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#women's cup
nando161mando · 2 months
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FIFA has just delayed a decision on a Palestinian bid to suspend Israel from international soccer until after the Paris Olympics, claiming that both parties had requested more time to submit their positions.
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virgoilluminati · 2 months
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can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭
It's been a long time coming...
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A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹
Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.
Oh, you had royally fucked up.
So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.
You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.
You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.
You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.
You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.
You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.
Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)
His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.
Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.
You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.
You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.
I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!
His reply came almost instantly.
Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?
You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.
Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.
With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.
The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.
After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.
“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”
“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.
“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"
"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."
"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."
"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.
"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."
Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”
“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”
There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”
For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.
The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.
Your friends, of course, noticed.
“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”
“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”
“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.
As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.
“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.
“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.
You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.
“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.
The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.
Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.
Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.
You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.
Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.
You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.
You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.
There was a brief pause before his next message came through.
Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.
You: Deal.
The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.
Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.
The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.
The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.
The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.
Your phone buzzed again.
Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)
You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.
You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x
Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.
You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.
The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.
Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.
“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”
“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”
“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”
“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”
“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.
“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”
You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”
“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”
Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”
You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"
Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”
“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”
You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”
Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”
“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”
Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”
“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.
As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.
When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.
You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.
You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.
A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.
Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.
You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.
You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.
You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?
The reply came back quickly.
Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.
You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.
You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.
First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.
Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.
As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.
Jude: Just landed. See you soon
Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.
When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.
Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.
"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."
He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."
You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."
Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.
He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.
You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.
As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."
You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."
The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.
"Listen. About what I said-"
"We don't have too-"
"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."
"I like you too."
You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.
"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."
He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."
"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.
"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.
"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"
"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.
"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"
"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,
He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.
Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.
It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.
You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.
Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.
"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.
Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.
When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.
Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.
"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.
You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.
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sometimes when i’m bored or can’t sleep I wonder how Alexia (the australian bird) is doing 😅 hope she’s okay and thriving
alexia the australian ibis is living her best life. i am 100% convinced of this. jenni probably kidnapped it and took it on the chartered plane back to madrid. 😅
source: @relevo
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sorceresski · 1 year
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A Nigerian mom somewhere has just shown this to her 17 year old daughter. “See your mate”
Anyway, women>>>
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thiagodasilva · 1 year
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and when all the girlies run to the stands to make out with their wives and girlfriends on live television then what
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newbie-woso · 2 months
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11 months later
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trulyhblue · 6 months
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Baby England (Part Three)
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Jordan Nobbs x Young! Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Young! Reader (platonic), Lionesses x Young! Reader
warnings — angst fluff, coarse language, mentions of anxiety.
A/N — Baby England’s Back!!!!! Half of this was deleted and I wanted to cry so bad but here it is. And do I have a twist for you… didn't expect it to get this long, but I have to make up for the hiatus somehow xxx
Masterlist
___________________________
It was a few days before the Semi Final, and you were sat amongst a pile of paperwork.
lionesses
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Liked by yourusername, alessiarusso99 and 43, 526 others
lionesses — semi final prep with baby England 💪🏻🙌🏼
Watch our clash with Sweden on the 27th @ Sheffield Stadium — 6pm GMT 🌟
tagged: yourusername
Comments:
yourusername — ❤️
*liked by lionesess
user1 — she is so adorable
^ user2 — she's so pookie.
georgiastanway — yeah the spiky hair
^ lionesses — stop bullying your little sis
^ georgiastanway — y/n get off the account
^ user5 — 💀
chelseawfc — love to see it 🙌🏼
^ user8 — UM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
User67 — I NEED TO KNOW WHERE SHE’S SIGNING
^ user45 — apparently Man U want her
^ user9 — atp, EVERYONE wants her
^ user10 — imagine her in a barça jersey 😋
^ user 11 — gurl pls… imagine her at UNC 😍
User12 — I really hope she starts for this game
^ user13 — I doubt it, I think she’ll be a super sub
^ user25 — she started last match??? And she got potm… surely she starts again
^ user13 — 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
arsenalacademy — absolute gun(ner)
^ user7 — lets be honest, arsenal will NEVER let Y/N leave
^ user89 — she's a free agent after the euros. They technically cannot keep her if someone's willing to pay more for her
__________________________
You had been training pretty much every day, save for the week that had been dedicated fo media roles and interviews. You were switching between teammates for a while. One interview was with Leah and Beth, another with Alessia, Lotte, Georgia and Ella.
At training, the coaches worked the team tirelessly. You were struggling to keep a straight face when you were told to run laps before you were sent back to your rooms. A large part of your weariness was mental. It had been a day full of apprehension for the days to come. Making it so far into the Euros was an achievement in itself, but a home euro was something else.
You hadn't seen your family for weeks now, and you were starting to miss your childhood bedroom. Despite the long hours spent chipping away at school work, you missed your friends at home and your teammates back at Arsenal Academy. The Lionesses quickly became your favourite people in the work. Many of them were family to you. But the subtly of your dismay and expression of homesickness proved more and more apparent as the days went by.
This feeling was not to be mistaken with ungratefulness. Being apart of your National team was a dream come true. This was what you worked for, lived and breathed for. You had finally attained your dream — this was all you ever wanted. You were eternally grateful for the opportunity, the chance to bring football home. A home tournament was a once-in-a-lifetime possibility, and here you were experiencing it. Every day you woke up wanting to pinch yourself. This couldn't be real.
But school was pretty much impossible at a time like this. When all you wanted to do was kick a ball around, catch up on sleep, and actually socialise. You know, like every other one of your teammates. It seemed as if you were the only one encapsulated by the realm of education, despite many of the girls attending University. You weren't indifferent to your current situation. Being a student and playing in one of the biggest football tournaments in the world was going to be difficult. But you felt like spending quality time with your friends would do you well. You wanted to stop worrying about your stupid equations and do something worth your while.
You had been saying this since the Euros began.
In no way did you mean for it to change for the worse.
But the universe was not in your favour.
“You should choose what makes you happy.” Jordan soothed, milking out the same string of sentences you've heard all week. The two of you sat in a cafe not far from Sheffield Stadium, sipping away at your hot chocolates, having already finished your macaroons.
Your agent had sent you the multitude of contracts you had been offered from different clubs. Tomorrow, you were playing against Sweden in the Semi-finals. Sarina thought it’d be good if everyone had the day off before the havoc set in. You had spent the morning in your room, finishing off the rest of your History Essay. Jordan had picked you up not long after noon, bringing you away from the stress chipping you away.
“It shouldn't matter what anyone else thinks,” The older woman held your hand, and you managed to feel her subtle squeeze.
“What do you think I should do?”
“Its not my—”
You cut her off, huffing in exasperation. “Jordan, please.”
Jordan’s face was impassive, a prominent knot creasing the space between her eyebrows. Her hair was flipped over one side, concealing the half of her face which she leant against her hand. She was struggling to find the words that had the capacity to encapsulate both truth and love — two things you needed to hear as you sat in the near-empty coffee shop. You wanted her to be honest, you thought. You needed her to tell it to you straight.
But this was Jordan you're asking. The kind, restful, reticent woman you had known forever — a woman while true to her word, could only speak subjectively, with emotion muddled into words. She was the personification of empathy. You loved that about her. But with your mind in a haze, despite your unrelenting apathy to stay independent, you really wanted to hear someone else’s opinion, for you had thought it over too many times to comprehend.
Your first option, of course, was Arsenal. It was your childhood club, your parent club, your home. For many years, it stood as everything you loved. You grew up watchings greats like Kelly Smith and Leah paving the way for your generation. You felt more at home at Arsenal than anywhere else. Though, it goes without saying that you haven't been anywhere else to compare it to.
And Leah would be hell-struck if you didn't choose Arsenal, even if she wouldn't directly admit it.
Spurs had taken interest in you since your youth ages when you had tried out for both North London teams at the ripe age of six. It just so happened that you chose Arsenal since it was closer to home, and you often wondered what it would've been like if you had chosen Tottenham instead.
United was next. A great club full of incredible talents like Ella Toone and Alessia Russo, two of your close friends when it came to International duties. The Manchester Reds were brilliant, tough competitors, but you never found much affiliation with them. Sure, they were amazing, but was it for you?
Lotte and Alessia both spoke to you about UNC, and you were definitely looking into playing there as a second alternative. You knew your parents thought this was the best option, but with the offers you were receiving, it wasn't at the top of your list.
You waited for Jordan’s response, already knowing her answer. There was one club you refused to think about. One club you couldn't set your mind to.
But the contract looked all too appealing.
“Chelsea.”
Three years — you’d be eighteen when it ends. Just shy of 250k a year, not including bonuses, increasing at a negotiable rate. You were a free agent after the Euros, and your contract with the Arsenal Academy was ending at the start of August. The Blues had a fantastic team and were worthy opponents for the cup title. You were guaranteed as a regular sub and promised to be looked after and rehabilitated to full strength if injuries occurred.
You hadn't thought over this option much during your senior debuts. It was pretty much embedded into you that you were a Gunner through and through. You had grown up playing against your London Rivals, and the team’s hatred only intensified as the game got stronger. It stood as a testament of its time.
But there was only one more thing that was stopping you.
“What about Leah?”
Jordan sighed. She knew Leah was a Gunner through and through. She knew that Leah saw herself in you — going through the academy, debuting at a young age. Choosing a pro contract was bound to happen to you the moment you were called up. No one even thought you’d gain minutes. But with Jordan’s injury, and your inevitable image, clubs were reeling in the prospect of a prodigy.
“This isn't her career, chook,” Jordan muttered, taking a sip of her drink. “Wherever you go, you have to take different things into account. Whether you’ll get minutes, if they value younger players as much as their originals, y’know, its a lot to think about.”
“You think I’ll get minutes?”
“Maybe not as much as Spurs, or North Carolina, but it's in the club’s reputation. They're known for their attack, and so are you.”
“I don't want to be the one to tell her.” You cringed. Leah was your older sister, in sorts. You valued her opinion over anyone else. To tell her you were transferring to her rival club felt like a slap in the face to all that she's done for you, not to mention you’d verse her in the League.
“Well, it’d be worse if she found out over the media.” Jordan quipped, through light to the situation.
“How would I bring that up?” You scoffed, hiding your face in your hoodie. “Hey, Leah, I know I've played for Arsenal forever, but I think I should just betray everyone and go to their biggest rivals. Sorry ‘bout that.”
Jordan shook her head. “She’d understand.”
Your eyebrows raised. “Would she?”
“I’d be livid at her if she wasn't,” Jordan spoke, her tone much sterner. You sat back in your chair. “It's not like you're signing a life-long contract with them, anyway. It's three years. Three years where you get to improve your skills and expand your career. Leah loves you too much to be angry at you for more than an hour. In fact, that woman has never been angry at you a day in her life.”
“I guess I’ll break that streak when I tell you.” you muttered, looking down at your empty cup.
“Stop that.” Jordan huffed, crossing her arms. “You've got two more weeks to figure it out. But let me tell you this. Arsenal will always be there for you. You don't need to stick with them for your whole career to know that they will happily welcome you back with welcoming arms. That goes for all the girls… including Leah.”
“Right.”
“And I’ll tell her that straight if she even thinks about doing anything otherwise.”
________________
yourusername
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liked by jordannobbs, barcelonafemeni, and 102,223
yourusername — bit of life 💙
tagged — jordannobbs, maryearps1, and yourfriend
Comments:
jordannobbs — my daughters growing up too fast 😭
^ yourusername — thanks mama 💗
jordannobbs — look at you glowing 💙
^ yourusername — all you
jordannobbs — proud x
* liked by yourusername
user1 — I'm loving Jord’s spam! She's so proud of her 🥲
^ user2 — literally mother daughter goals
wosofan — this is the first time I haven't seen leah in a Baby Eng dump
^ user9 — omg ur right
user78 — loving the blue theme
^ user8 — are you thinking what I'm thinking
milliebright — beanie gal 🤭
^ yourusername — meanie
^ milliebright — you’ll get used to it
^ user8 — UM HELLO
samanthakerr — where’d you get that jumper from in the third photo?
^ yourusername — dunno
^ user98 — HOW DO THEY KNOW EACH OTHER????????
maryearps1 — caught me off guard with that
^ yourusername — you asked me to take the photo 😂
^ ellatoone — HA! Caught.
^ mearyearps1 — 😒
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lionesess — our put together baby 🌟
* liked by yourusername
georgiastanway — i didnt need to see the bottom of your shoes
^ yourusername — you see them all the time in training 🤷‍♀️
^ georgiastanway — dont.
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^ user78 — HUH IM SO CONFUSED
^ wowwoso — WHY IS CHELSEA HERE
^ user6 — WHAT IS HAPPENING
________________
Sweat was beading across your forehead, the nerves of half time creeping up to the steady beat of your heart.
You hadn't told Leah about the decision you came to with Jordan. You had been so caught up in how she’d react, mixed with the stress of this upcoming game, that you weren't in any stable condition to go through with it.
In addition to that, you were still making your final decision, the finality of Chelsea not truly setting in.
Beth and Lucy had already sent the ball flying into the back of the net, and Sweden had yet to take a chance to extend their stay into the finals. You watched from the wing anxiously, threading the ball to the more experienced players, staying in the pipe ways as you did so.
You had started, which still came as a surprise to you since. Your game against Spain was still fresh in your mind. You wanted to stay consistent in your performance while also keeping up with the newfound intensity of the game, but something just wasn't clicking for you.
England was doing great, up by two goals by the second half. You had kept yourself distanced from the vigour, passing out when needed, mainly staying on the wing in order to keep as much distance from making more mistakes.
You had been pretty reckless with your passing. Obviously not too catastrophic, but enough to send winces across the crowd.
Your passes weren't sloppy, but they weren't precise either. You didn't leave much opportunity for the forwards and were starting to rely on your defence too much.
There was simply something about your gameplay today that didn't mould with the rest of the team. You didn't want to be subbed off. You wanted to make an impact.
But it just was not clicking.
Ellen had just been subbed off for Alessia, who was wiping her hands over her shorts, watching the ball tread through the outskirts of Sweden’s half. You could hear the crowd’s apprehension linger when you were passed the ball by Leah, using all your strength to peel away from Blackstenius.
Your first touch wasn't the greatest, and Stina was pressuring you out near the line. In every other game, you were known for your cool persona when encountering stress. You could collectively juggle the presence of a marker while dribbling the ball down the line onto a seeking prospect.
But as soon as the Swed’s studs hit your foot, you were sent to the ground. Hot flashes of pain sprung from your ankle. It was nothing that wouldn't surpass after a few moments whining about it on the ground.
Nonetheless, the whistle blew for a free kick, and Leah’s figure was knelt beside you in an instant.
“You alright, kid?”
Leah wasn't dumb. She knew that you had been ignoring her these past few days. You were distant, passive, and overall neglectful of her efforts to talk to you.
You would usually knock on her door after dinner to play some card games or help you with schoolwork. You would squeeze yourself next to her on the bus rides, and partner up with her at training.
Leah would pretend to be annoyed, and you would act all innocent like it was second nature — because that is what it was.
But you refused to meet her lingering eyes during meals and chose to partner with Millie any chance you got. You’d sit with Georgia at meals, and Jess Carter during Bus rides. Hell, even during free time, Jordan would pick you up and take you out, and she wasn't even on the team.
Leah knew something was up, and you knew that she had caught on. Jordan wouldn't tell her. And you hadn't spoken so much as three sentences to her for the past week. So it was no wonder that you were struggling. There was so much pent up tension in your shoulders, you looked so apprehensive.
Leah pulled you up by your shoulders, holding out her hand to stroke your face.
“You tell me you want to go off and I’ll find a sub for you.” Her words were harsh, but there was good intention behind it.
You gulped, shaking your head. Leah was watching your every move like a hawk. This was the perfect opportunity for her to ask you what was wrong. She could see that you needed to get something off your chest.
“I'm fine, keep me on.” You put it soundly, sighing as Leah brushed off the grass that was left on your jersey.
“Don't think that this is the end of the conversation.” Leah retorted, refusing to let your longest interaction in days go. “You’d be barmy if you think I’d let you get away with this easily.”
“I'm not Barmy, Lee. I'm fine.” You replied.
Leah could tell by your smile that she had hit the sweet spot. You were willing to play, the injury minuscule with its attempts to shake you. Your captain kissed the top of your forehead, bringing you into a quick hug.
“Alright then, Fine. Go on and take that free kick.”
You pushed past her lightly, the uncertainty lingering in your body slowly sinking into the grass with every step you took. Everyone had taken the time to huddle together as a team, moving back to their respective positions on the field after you had collected yourself up off the floor.
As the match continued, it was as if you had a fresh set of legs. Everyone got whiplash from your sudden switch of performance that not only enhanced your gameplay but the flow of the game altogether.
You became more involved in the game, passing into your central attackers, and sprinting down the wing to create more changes for a wider goal difference. Georgia and Keira gained more traction with your involvement, and it somehow paved the way for the defenders to find a more secure backline.
The next time you found yourself marked by Stina, who had apologised for your minor Collison, you were lightning on your feet. The pace you set was incredible, and the ball was yours for the taking.
You weaved past her and one of the midfielders, glancing up to see Georgia’s figure near the box. Without thinking, you propelled the ball over the heads of both teams.
Wincing when it passed Stanway, you felt your shoulders collapse. Russo wasn't ready for your explosive play, only just managing to retain the ball at her feet. You sighed, running your hands through your hair when Alessia’s attempt was blocked.
You were about to run back, ready for Sweden’s possession, when the crowd suddenly flung off their seats. You were a good fifty metres away from the rest, Alessia’s figure much harder to find among the number of players congregating by the goal. You noticed Lessi run out near the corner, holding out her arms with a winning smile. Georgia soon clambered over the top of her, patting her shoulder with a matching grin.
You looked up at the scoreboard, catching onto the replay from one of the cameras. From what you could see, Alessia had backheeled the ball past the defenders, leaving the goalkeeper stranded, the ball falling easily into the goal.
Even years later, people always find your late reaction funny. Many of your teammates had already congratulated you on the assist before it all clicked for you. It was rare for a team to be dominating this much in a semi-final, and you weren't quite sure how you managed to pull off what you had just done.
You found Alessia’s shoulders and pushed up on them, swinging your legs around her waist and hugging her from behind. She squealed, pushing you off.
“You're incredible, Russo, seriously.” You screamed, out of breath from the seventy minutes of nonstop running. Less grabbed your arm and spun you round. “All because of that brilliant assist, Baby England!”
You were on such a high for the rest of the game that nothing you did was fully comprehended. You had so much faith in the team that everything moulded with so much chemistry, it was second nature. Three Swedish substitutions meant that you were bound to be taken off any minute. Leah had been holding you accountable at the back while Beth was pushing your talents forward in the middle. You were sure that this was the most you had ever run in a match. Your cheeks were flushed, your muscles were surely overworked, but you were running with so much adrenaline that it didn't affect you.
England was on the home stretch now. Keeping both offence and defence strong, making sure Sweden wasn't offered any thrilling opportunity. You heard Keira shouting directions from the other side of the pitch. Georgia was passing short, timeless passes to you. Rachel had her arm outstretched, ready to propel forward if the ball was coming her way.
You knew that Georgia was just time-wasting now. You just needed to win now, the goal difference didn't matter. You felt someone’s presence up behind you, forcing you to cross the ball back to Leah since both Gee and Kie were covered. You had been staying in the middle and towards the back end of the pitch all game, so it was a surprise when you burst forward past Sweden’s second-last line of defence. Leah had kicked it over to Lucy, who hadn't seen you leave. Georgia took the ball, marking her opponent while searching for your unknown whereabouts.
The only person to have seen you was Beth, who called for the ball and received it a second later. With one, quick, first touch, Mead sent the ball flailing over the top, towards where you were waiting, just outside the box. One of the defenders had caught on, and the goalkeeper hadn't prepared herself for your sudden attack. You watched the ball hurl a few metres to you left, leaving you no choice but to chase after it in a rush. Almost everyone was twenty metres behind, unable to come to your aid. You held your own, forgetting the people around you, and jumped just as the ball met your head. You had no idea how close the goal was, or if your header was even near where your direction was intended.
You winced at the contact of someone in your side, groaning with your arms cradling your head. The impact of the ground winded you, sending you gasping for air. But the crowd’s booms at Sheffield was enough to leave you breathless.
You had scored.
People piled on top of you one by one, yelling all sorts as you struggled to realise what you had done. Everyone was rounded, cheering, standing. You could hear Georgia swearing, and Leah telling everyone to keep their head on. You listened to Alessia and Rachel cheering with each other, and Beth pulling you up by your shoulders. Everyone collapsed into a hug around you, making it difficult for anyone to catch onto your tears.
You loved this team too much to ever let this moment go. Your tears were mixed with the sweat of the game, coating your cheeks, exhaustion setting into your shoulders. Your breath had caught up to you, but the daze was expressed.
You looked out to the crowd when Ella ran on to replace you. Everyone was on their feet, clapping boisterously as you waved them off. It was a tedious feeling that you couldn't quite shake. There wasn't a single person there that made you feel like you hadn't tried your best.
Nothing in the world could beat this feeling.
***
The celebrations of England’s win set off as soon as the full-time whistle blew. Fans rose from their seats, players crowded the pitch. You found your figure running towards Leah, tears already streaming down your face at an embarrassing rate. Your cheeks were flushed, and your body fell limb against Leah’s chest, eloping the serenity of her embrace with quiet sobs.
She held you close and tight, combing her fingers through your hair, breathing in the electric atmosphere that infiltrated the stadium. She could hear you crying into her, and she tried hard not to cry herself. She held a protective arm around your shoulders, sheltering you from the public eye as best she could. Leah looked down at her armband, feeling proud of her nation, then glanced at you, and felt even more emotion than ever before.
Over the years, Leah would find herself falling more and more defensive of you. She wanted to shield you away from the inevitable hate. She watched you grow into a spectacular player, a brilliant teammate, and a beautiful girl. Everything you did was at the discretion of the older woman, and Leah came to realise that you were somewhat of a daughter to her.
She was a Captain of her country and club. She was an idol to thousands of girls across the globe. But she was everything to you as you were to her, and that was more than enough.
“Played so well, Y/N.” She whispered into your ear, leaning down so that you could hear her over the chants.
You glanced up at her with watery eyes, clinging onto the woman and grinning. “Love you, Lee.”
“Love you, too, my girl.”
The two of you stayed like that for a little longer. Millie eventually pulled Leah into her own embrace, and you were making rounds across the field, congratulating your teammates and celebrating with them too.
England fans still banked up the stands, holding out their pens, phones and jerseys. Some people gave you some friendship bracelets, others asked you to take photos. Everyone was reeling at the huge win.
You end up finding yourself nearing a full walk around the field, and nearing the loop, where fans were starting to disperse. The last fan was a little girl in a wheelchair, with dark brown curls and green eyes. She was a little younger than you, but it was easy to fall into a conversation with her. She congratulated you, you thanked her for coming. It was by the end of your interaction that you slipped your shirt off, bringing the girl into a tight, gracious hug.
Many of the girls were already celebrating in the changing rooms. Champagne would've already been distributed. You wanted to make sure the fans were all aware that you were very thankful they were there to watch your team play. This was your first major tournament, and people commended you for always staying back. Though you didn't do it for the praise.
“If it isn't the Baby herself.” You heard someone call from behind you, causing you to turn.
You found Lucy and Sarina standing side by side, sharing big victorious smiles wider than you had ever seen. Lucy had already ushered you into a bone-crushing embrace, guiding your head into her chest — her arms wrapped around your shoulders. Sarina patted you on the back, mumbling something about performance and outcome, before you fumbled your balance against Lucy’s figure.
What you hadn't noticed until then was the man who was standing with the two women. He was not old, but not young either. His hair was dark brown, and he had a stubby beard. His posture was neat, his coat crowding his figure tightly for no cool air to leak in. If it wasn't for the intensity of the game you had just played, you would've agreed to say it was cold. But you were sweaty, fatigued, and starting to feel the effects of a semi-final.
The man was sporting a civil grin, holding his hand out for you to shake. You were completely oblivious to who he was, unable to decipher his identity from any of his features or appearance. It was only when he spoke that you heard the trail of a Spanish accent seeping through his endeavoured English.
“You are a talent, young lady.” He commended. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment, shaking it off with a bashful smile. “I must say, you are one of a kind, truly. That header was spectacular. A goal and an assist? Incredible.”
“Thank you but I couldn't have done it without the others.” You mumbled, trying to remember Jordan’s advice to keep eye contact when you were speaking to an adult. “My first half was poor. I don't think I deserve the recognition when my opportunities weren't used wisely.”
“Oh, shut your mouth.” Lucy scoffed, ruffling your hair. “I can remember my first Euros. I definitely didn't score off a header from outside of the box, that's for sure.”
“You're the best defender, I know.” You replied hastily, trying to reiterate the fact that you were pretty much a forward, and it was expected that you were to score.
Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “Bet you wouldn't say that in front of Leah.”
“Oh, wait!” Your mouth fell slightly agape. “Don't tell her I said that.”
The three adults chuckled from around you, making your cheeks go a little more red.
“I must agree.” The man stepped forward, shoving his hands that were once crossed over his chest into his pockets. From there, you caught sight of the Barcelona emblem embedded in his jacket.
Your face must've given away your realisation. “You're Jonathan? Barca’s head coach?!”
Lucy laughed harder than before, looking at the two coaches with the click of her tongue. “I told ‘ya she wouldn't recognize him.”
“I am,” Jona replied. You shook his hand for the second time that night. “You seem to be surprised at that.”
“What? Oh! No, um.” You became a nervous wreck. “I just, oh my god, does that mean you know Alexia Putellas?”Despite your North London spirit, there was no doubt that there was a fangirl within you at the knowledge of the Spanish team. You had grown up with the greats in Barca, and almost everyone in the England squad knew of your explicit crush on a certain Spanish captain, who just so happened to play for Barca.
“I mean, she is the captain, so you’d hope so.” Jona chuckled. “In fact, I was talking to her just a few hours ago. We were discussing the transfer season and some new contracts coming up.”
You instantly looked up at Lucy, who rolled her eyes at your oblivion. Sarina shook her head, glancing at you knowingly while Jona sighed in deliberation.
“I'm sure you have mulled over some of the offers you have been given from some of the clubs, no? I heard from somewhere that Chelsea are outbidding Arsenal.”
“Oh.” The thought of a professional contract, and making a denounced decision was long a foreign concept to you at that moment. You were presented with the complexity of the question, and could only shrug in response.
Jona reciprocated your affliction. “It is always a tough decision to make. But you have a very bright career in front of you. Everyone is expecting great, great things.”
“I'm tossing up between Arsenal and Chelsea.” You admitted. “They are my best offers.”
“You think so?” Jona looked complex, his eyebrows rising. When you nodded, he tutted, his head low. “Sarina and I were just questioning the fee being offered… or lack thereof.”
Your back straightened. “What do you mean?”
“300k for a three-year contract is hardly reasonable for a player like you.” He stated, rolling his sleeves up with a grin. Lucy and Sarina were in quiet conversation to the side, still active in what you were discussing but in their exclusive bubble.
“If I were to put in my bid, it’d be at least 800 thousand.” He continued. Your eyes nearly budged out of their sockets, unable to reply. “But it’d end up being just short of a million with the transfer fee.”
“My academy contract ends in two weeks.” The money Jona had just described was unattainable from your perception. “I'm just glad I got the offers in the first place. Your bid is too generous.”
There was no way you, a youth player, and academy girl who wasn't even had a club debut, was expected to be worth that much. He must've been pulling your leg, taking the piss like Tooney often did. It was not in the slightest chance that you began to unravel the weight of Jona’s words, and his intention behind the conversation you were just having.
“Are you saying you wouldn't accept it?” He asked.
You were so fucking dumbfounded that you started to laugh.
“You could offer me a job for nothing and I would take it.” There was a joking tone behind your statement, but you knew that there was an entire truth planted within your declaration. “Not that you would, but yeah, of course I would. The only thing I’d contemplate is learning the language.”
“I can get you a tutor.” He responded. “And the girls are lovely.”
You swooned just at the thought of the Barcelona team. “You're just being mean now.”
Jonathon looked at you in confusion. Lucy had overheard the last of your conversation, with Sarina off to find someone else. She scoffed, finding your idiocy a painful trait of yours. You glanced between the two of them, waiting for them to continue the blasted joke of you joining the best team in the world. You waited for them to ask you how Chelsea Blue was going to look on you, of if Academy was where you wanted to stay. Hell, you were expecting them to ask when you were moving into your own apartment due to the absurdity of Jona’s hypothetical posing.
But they stood there looking at you in silence. They were waiting for you to catch on.
And you did. Even if it was after several long moments of pause and silence. Even if you had dropped your jaw to the floor in utter shock, simply not believing that what was happening was actually happening. The thought of playing for a single minute was eradicated from your mind, instead replaced with a newfound excitement that left you jumping up and down.
There was no way, you thought. Nothing could've prepared you for this.
All thoughts of Chelsea, of Arsenal, were gone. Letting the news transfer to Leah was a distant memory.
You were no longer hesitating about what anyone else thought about where you would go. There was not an ounce of regret in your body that screamed out to you, telling you to think this over for even a second. You were not want to wait, to talk, to act, you were just waiting for this all to be a dream.
You knew that this was an inevitable choice. A feeling so right, so just, full of hope and solidarity, clung to you as you shook Jona’s hand yet again. Not filling registering his words, skimming over the implications of it all, aimlessly giving him your Agent’s number. It was all a blur from there.
It did not matter the money that went into the contract, or the financial gain that would equip you throughout the three years you were about to live in Barcelona. Nothing else mattered except the smile on your face, and the righteousness in your chest.
With the win of your National Team, you home, and the club you were bound towards, there was nothing stopping the bounce in your stride.
_________________
arsenalacademy
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liked by babyengland, milliebright, and 207,367 others
arsenalacademy — After a standout performance in the Euros so far, Arsenal Academy Star, and England’s youngest, Baby England has signed a record-breaking fee of $3 Million, for a three-year contract with reigning Champions, Barcelona FC.
“I'm excited for this new opportunity. The Euros are massive, and winning with the girls against Sweden was a privilege I still can't put into words…
I have to thank Arsenal for making me the player I am, because they have taught me so many things, and I wouldn't be standing here today if it wasn't for them.
I also want to thank Jordan, Leah, and all the Lionesses for helping me with this. They have always wanted the best for me, and I couldn't have done it without them.”
The fifteen-year-old will begin training with the Spainish Team for the 22/23 season effective immediately.
Congratulations on this new chapter!
Tagged: yourusername
Comments:
soccerdonna — New Update: Chelsea had outbid Arsenal by $150k, and Barca by an extra 200k, as well as an increase in salary, which is negotiable.
User7 — I THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA ANNOUNCE IT AFTER THE EUROS
^ user8 — WHEN HAS MY GIRL HAD TIME FOR THIS
^ user112 — FR MY GIRL’S FIFTEEN, A STUDENT, A FULL TIME ATHLETE, AND A BABYGIRL LIKE PLS
User5 — JONATAN WAS AT THE GAMES AGAINST SPAIN AND SWEDEN!!!! MAYBE THATS WHEN
^ user90 — THAT’S SO SOON THO HOW COULD HE HAVE DONE IT
ingridengen — welcome 🩷
*liked by yourusername
racheldaly — no villa talk 🤣 see you on the pitch soon chook 🩷
^ yourusername — thank you Rach 🙃
user6 — FIRST LUCY AND NOW BABY ENGLAND! WHO’S NEXT, KEIRA????
alessiarusso — big things!!!! proud of you like crazy 🙌🏼
^ yourusername — love you lessi bear 🧸
user1 — are you fucking kidding me? ARSENAL WHY DIDNT YOU KEEP HERRRRR
^ user67 — THE FACT THAT THEY WERE ONE OF THE LOWEST BIDDERS UGH
alexiaputellas — Bienvenido, guapa!
^ yourusername — omg ily
^ user77 — shes so real
user23 — I'm in mourning.
user8 — WHAT ABOUT LEAH
^ user4 — AND JORDAN
^ user7 — SHE WAS OUR ARSENAL BABY
jordannobbs — big things coming! So proud of you! 💙❤️
* liked by yourusername
user37 — the fact that we all thought she was going to chelsea
^ user27 — she really had us all fooled
leahwilliamson — smash it, my girl!
^ yourusername — love you lee 🤍
^ user78 — screaming into my pillow I cannot deal with this hurt.
^ user99 — I need to know if she told Leah before or after she signed 😭
^ user12 — the edits about to go crazy
^ user8 — “let's not forget, that no matter where she goes, Baby England will always be Arsenal.”
barcelonafemeni — Stargirl 🌟
^ user4 — you don't deserve her.
^ user90 — SALT IN THE WOUND
^ user3 — Idk about the rest of you, but I cannot wait to see her in the home jersey
^ user6 — ur the only one.
Lionesses — baby england growing up too fast 🥲
user5 — I'm still so confused on how she signed a contract in the middle of the fucking euros
^ user64 — it practically meant that Barca would've not only had to pay her the contract, but also pay Arsenal a transfer fee
^ user65 — I might be crazy but wouldn't that make her the most expensive transfer? With both the transfer money and the contract
^ user5 — it adds up to be just under $1 million 😀
georgiastanway — congratulations!!!!!!
^ yourusername — thanks gee!
ellatoone — you would've looked better in Manchester 😒
^ ellatoone — jkjk look at youuuuu 🩷
*liked by yourusername
____________________
A/N — HA! You thought she’d go to Chelsea… yeah right. Hope you enjoyed!
475 notes · View notes
i don't know if you guys have been keeping up with the women's world cup but this past sunday spain won against england. and you would think this would be the best moment of their careers and their lives but you wanna know what happened?
the spanish football federation's president non-consensually kissed one of the players, jenni hermoso, on the mouth when they were celebrating. this grown ass man took it upon himself to ruin the celebration for ALL the women who just achieved the thing they have been preparing for all their lives, literally the peak of a football player's career, they did it and he by himself ruined it.
and i say all the women because the other players, along 58 currently inactive and ex-players, stood up for jenni hermoso and have refused to play for the team until luis rubiales publicly apologizes and renounces his spot. now the rfef says they'll take legal action against the players and jenni for lying and because they have an obligation to play for the team.
do you remember how the men's world cup celebrations went? i do, im from argentina. no one said anything to any of the players, they were treated like kings for months and they are worshipped to this day. and rightfully so! they earned it i guess. but we do see the discrepancy?
how is it that we allow as a society for one man to sexually assault a woman right after achieving the thing another group of men got ceaselessly venerated for not even a year later? what do women have to do to earn respect? win the world cup? become the pride and joy of their country?
2K notes · View notes
maxgirl29 · 1 year
Text
It should not have taken the entire women’s football community voicing the disgust and wrong doing of the RFEF and the public actions of that bald fool for his resignation.
The Jamaican girls should not have had to create a GoFundMe page to get to Australia to compete.
The Canadian team should not have had to go public about their lack of pay.
It should not have taken the early departure of the USWNT to get Vlatko out.
The Zambian team should not have had to voice their issues of sexual abuse and misconduct of their coach.
So many other issues out there from so many other countries that should not even be in existence.
It should not take the players announcing to the world that there are issues for them to be taken seriously. Players should be able to feel comfortable enough to speak with their federations about problems and know that changes will be made and that they will not be singled out or become a victim of backlash. Treat female footballers with the same professionalism and respect you treat the males.
1K notes · View notes
leahsgirl · 8 months
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star girl | lucy bronze x reader
based off the request ‘maybe one with Lucy, that the r scores in the euros final like the winning goal’. let’s imagine it’s the 23’ world cup final again and leah + beth never tore their acl’s xx
It’s safe to say tensions were high in the locker room as you and your fellow England teammates prepared for one of the biggest matches of your careers. Sarina had opted for the same line-up that secured your team the european championship a year prior, just a few changes here and there.
Yourself was on the bench as a substitute, however, it didn’t make the experience any less nerve-wracking. Double knotting the laces on your boot, you walked over to a familiar brunette.
“it’s totally normal to feel sick to my stomach right?” She chuckles, as if she isn’t about to go out to a crowd of 75,000+ people. “The life of a footballer love.”
“How have you played three world cups? I feel like a heart attack is going to hit me any minute.” Sitting next to her, she squeezes your hand and kisses your temple. “Calmer?” The older girl asks. “Calmer.” You confirm, leaning your head on her shoulder for a brief minute.
You would describe your relationship with Lucy very much black cat x golden retriever; while you was often energetic and switching through emotions like tv channels, lucy was the opposite. While she liked to have fun and be sarcastic and all, she was actually a very chill person who would just go with the flow.
Lucy and you had been dating for just over a year and a half with only close friends and family knowing. You’d be lying if you had your doubts if the both of you would even last - with Lucy playing in Barcelona and you for your childhood club Manchester United, but you stuck it out and recently just bought your first place together.
It was 7:45pm over in Sydney Australia, both opposing teams beginning to line up next to each other in the tunnel. You and the other substitutes were to come out after the starting players. You prayed to God you could come away with a win tonight - you knew how hard each and everyone of you worked and to win the world cup would just be the cherry on top to an undefeated championship run youse had going.
Walking out, it all suddenly got very real. The cheers from the crowd made you smile as you took your seat.
The referee blew her whistle; it was go time. You watched the game intensely, weighing up the stats of your team and the opposing team. Spain was playing good and the nerves in your stomach were intensifying with each passing second.
“Oh shit look!” Ella pointed over at James who was now running down a practically free pitch. “Come on, come on.” You muttered under your breath as you see Spain’s goalkeeper take her stance. James went to hit the ball, it travelling at a good speed. Unlucky for you and your team, it just narrowly missed the goal and instead hit the crossbar - the goalkeeper catching it as it fell back down, opting to roll it to one of her Spanish teammates.
Ten minutes had passed and your team was yet to make another chance, Spain players literally tackling left and right. It all came crashing down however when Carmona scored twenty-nine minutes in, managing to slot the ball into the corner of the net. As the opposing team celebrated you couldn’t help but feel bad for your girlfriend who you know would be blaming herself for the goal after she gave away the ball taking on three players at once.
The game carried on with a profound feeling of desperation. While Beth, both Laurens and even Keira had a shot at goal, none of the attempts made it into the net. You was happy to hear the half-time whistle blow, running down the steps and back through the tunnel.
“It’s not your fault, don’t even think it.” Knowing exactly the thoughts going on in your girlfriend’s head, you rubbed her back supportively. “I got too bloody cocky, I should’ve just passed it back.” Lucy ran her slim fingers through her tied back hair.
“Hey hey, we still have another forty five minutes to show them what we’ve got. And I don’t know about you, but I think Bronze over here shouldn’t stop aiming for gold.” Her lips tugged at a grin over your partially lame joke. “You’re right, as always. Don’t know what I’d do without my woman.” She quickly pecked your lips.
“Okay lovebirds, keep it in your pants - we have a game to win.” Keira piped up, giving both you and lucy a little smack on the back of the head.
It’s safe to say after the pep talks the squad received in the locker room, England was on top form. It also helped that Spain had let go of the reigns a little, clearly thinking they were safe with the one nil advantage.
The 68th minute. That’s when the crowd started to get a whole lot louder and players were charging down one side of the pitch. Hemp had control of the ball, slowing just before the box and passing it to Beth. The blonde hit the ball with her left foot sending it straight into the back of the goal. Cheers roared through the stadium as you celebrated with the other girls on the bench. The scoreline now 1-1, you was still in this.
Your time had come to make a debut in the game, walking onto the outskirts of the pitch, Sarina going through the plan with you. James was the girl who was making way for your appearance, giving you a double high-five and pat on the back.
Running onto the pitch, adrenaline rushed through you as you made eye contact with a certain someone and sent her a wink. You hadn’t even managed to get three passes before you were caught with studs pressing into your ankle, sending you down onto the ground “What the fuck was that for?” It’s not like you was massive threat to the Spanish team at that moment considering you was about to pass the ball back up your end.
Luckily you were awarded a free kick, having alex take it. The match was getting more tense the longer you played, both teams creating good chances. Spain was even awarded a penalty which thank god Mary saved.
91 minutes. The game had entered extra time. Scores still level.
You watched as Keira dribbled with the ball, passing to Leah who kicked it up the pitch. Weighing up where the ball was in the sky and where you was near the goal you saw your chance; jumping up in the air you threw your body back, your left foot getting a hit on the ball which sent it flying into the net. Getting up off the grass, you look at one of the assistant referee’s to make sure it wasn’t offside.
His flag staying down, you dropped to your knees in disbelief. The girls ran over to you cheering and shouting your name while practically assaulting you with hugs.
The final whistle was blown about thirty seconds later with your whole squad now coming into the pitch. Familiar hands wrapped around your torso and lifted you into the air, carrying you bridal style. “You’re fucking incredible you know that?” The brunette spun you around grinning like a little child.
Once put down you cupped her face in your hands, overcome with emotion and smashed your lips onto hers. Although the defender was taken back, she gave into the moment and kissed you back with just the same intensity. It wasn’t the way either of you was planning to make the relationship public but hey, you just won the biggest tournament of your lives and wanted to celebrate with your special lady.
it wasn't long before you was ambushed by your team shouting compliments left right and centre. the crowd was also off on one, the volume making your ears ring.
walking back through the tunnel and into the locker room you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when a voice whispered into your ear "follow me."
obliging by the command and plodding behind the brunette, she dragged you into what appeared to be a storage room, miscellaneous sports equipment scattered around.
pushing you up against the cold wall which made you audibly gasp she planted a searing kiss onto your lips, hands having a firm hold of your waist. you reacted almost immediately, placing you hand on the back of her neck and bringing the two of you even closer.
"god i love you." the older woman breathed out as she moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking the skin to the point you was squirming in effort to not make any noise.
"i should score goals more often if this is how i get rewarded." forcing her to look at you, you reconnected your lips wasting no time in biting her bottom lip and snaking your tongue inside.
just as she slid her hand under your shirt there was a bang on the door. "lucia bronze and y/n y/l/n! if youse two are not out of there in ten seconds i will kick this door down myself!" tooney shouted.
you placed one last peck on lucy's cheek "i think we've been caught."
the right-back rolled her eyes. "we're continuing this later." she smirked, hitting your butt before unlocking and opening the door for you.
-
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lucybronze Won the world cup and the girlfriend jackpot. On top of the world right now.
youruser 🤍
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romegreeceart · 3 months
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Apulian red figure cup
* 4th century BCE
* Medelhavsmuseet, Stockholm
Stockholm, November 2023
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undercoverr · 24 days
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La Reina in America 🤩👑
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virgoilluminati · 2 months
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Jude and Y/N going to a wedding - maybe Jude is her plus one and they're all over them because he's famous and he's just so in love with Y/N that he doesn't notice 🤭❣️
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Numero uno
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Inspo: Set in the World Class series, y/n's older brother Rowan decides to finally tie the knot with his girlfriend Rosemary. In turn, Y/N invites Jude as her plus one. Little did she know that inviting her boyfriend who almost won the euro's would cause such a stir.
You hated weddings. You hated the formality, the expectations, the grand declarations of love. How could anyone promise to love someone forever when life was so unpredictable, so fragile? People fell out of love, people changed, and worst of all, people died. You had seen it firsthand and the pain it caused.
The memory of Noah, your eldest brother, loomed large in your mind. He had been the glue that held their family together, his laughter and warmth filling every room he entered. But in 2020, a tragic accident had taken him from them, leaving a gaping hole that time could never fully heal. Rowan had been especially close to Noah, and you knew that today, more than ever, he would be feeling that absence acutely.
Yet, this wedding was different. Your older brother Rowan, who had been with his girlfriend Rosemary for as long as you could remember, had finally proposed. Rowan and Rosemary’s relationship had weathered many storms, and their love had only grown stronger. It was a day of joy and celebration, something you couldn’t deny them, despite your own reservations.
You stood in front of the mirror in your hotel room, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to zip up your dress. The gown was a stunning mix of red and black satin, elegant and bold, but the zipper seemed to have a mind of its own. You struggled with it for a moment, your thoughts drifting back to all the times Noah had teased you about your dramatic views on love and marriage. He would have laughed at you today, seeing you all dressed up and ready to support Rowan.
A soft knock on the door pulled you from her reverie. “Y/N, are you okay in there?” Jude’s voice, warm and concerned, came through the door.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called back, though your voice wavered slightly. “Just having a bit of trouble with this zipper.”
Jude entered the room, his presence instantly calming you. He looked impeccable in his tailored suit, every bit the professional athlete who had just come off an incredible performance at the 2024 Men’s Euros. But here, in this moment, he was just Jude, the man who had captured your heart.
“Let me help,” he offered, moving behind you. His fingers brushed lightly against your bare back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. He slowly pulled the zipper upwards, your eyes meeting in the mirror.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky with admiration.
Your breath hitched, a blush creeping up your neck. “Thank you,” you replied softly.
As his fingers lingered on your back, you thought again of Noah. The thought of him brought a pang of sadness that you couldn’t shake.
“Y/N,” Jude’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You okay?”
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… thinking about Noah. He should be here.”
Jude’s eyes softened with understanding. “I know. He would have loved this.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But you’re here, and that’s what matters to Rowan."
You nodded, drawing strength from Jude’s presence. “You’re right. Thank you.”
He smiled, his eyes filled with love. “Always.”
You turned to face him fully, your hands resting on his chest. “You look pretty good yourself,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly.
Jude grinned, his eyes darkening with desire. “Well, I have to look my best if I’m going to keep up with you.”
You shared a brief, passionate kiss, the intensity of your love wrapping around you. When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you felt a thrill of excitement. Despite the sadness, despite your doubts, this day held a promise of happiness and love.
“We should get downstairs,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.
Jude stole one more quick kiss. “Yeah, we should,” he agreed, but his eyes told her he was in no rush. You steal one last kiss, before Jude gestures an arm for you to take and you slowly make their way down the stairs.
You and Jude arrived at the wedding reception, a beautifully decorated hall filled with flowers and twinkling lights. The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses created a warm, celebratory atmosphere. You found a quiet corner near the entrance, waiting for the rest of your family to arrive.
You fidgeted with the strap of your bra, trying to adjust it discreetly. Jude noticed your discomfort and stepped in front of you, shielding you from view.
"Need some help?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.
"Just trying to fix this strap," you whispered back, your fingers fumbling with the fabric.
Jude placed his hands gently on your shoulders, his body acting as a shield while you adjusted your strap. He kept glancing down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and admiration.
"Is something wrong?" You asked, noticing his intense gaze.
Jude's lips curled into a small smile. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just... you look really hot right now."
Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "Thanks," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jude's hand slid from your shoulder to your waist, pulling you closer. "Seriously, you’re making it very hard to focus on anything else," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His other hand rested briefly on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze before moving away as he heard footsteps approaching.
Your heart raced, the heat between you two intensifying. "Who says you have to?" You whispered back, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him even closer.
Jude's eyes darkened, his other hand drifting down to your hip, fingers lightly grazing the fabric of your dress. His lips found your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses along your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His touch was intoxicating, and for a moment, you were lost in your own world.
"You're driving me crazy," Jude whispered against your skin, his voice husky.
Your breath hitched as his hand trailed up your back, lingering at the nape of your neck. "Good," she managed to say, your voice shaking with desire.
Jude pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and affection. "If we weren't at your brother's wedding..."
You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know."
Your moment was intense, the world around you fading as you both focused solely on each other. Jude's thumb brushed against your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Before you could get further lost in each other, the sound of approaching footsteps and voices broke their intimate bubble. You reluctantly pulled apart, your connection still palpable, and turned to face the incoming relatives.
As you and Jude were still adjusting from your intimate moment, Aunt Karen approached with her warm smile, her eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity. "Y/N, darling! It’s so good to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. Then she turned to Jude, her eyes twinkling with familiarity. "And Jude, always a pleasure. How’s everything going?"
Jude smiled, his gaze locking onto yours, a silent message passing between you two. "Good to see you, Aunt Karen," he replied smoothly, but there was a heat in his eyes that made Your breath catch.
You gave a distracted smile, your attention drifting back to the way Jude’s tuxedo fit him perfectly, accentuating the strong lines of his body. Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of their earlier closeness still tingling on your skin. You could feel the warmth of his touch lingering, and despite the ongoing conversation, all you could think about was how impossibly handsome he looked tonight.
Your Grandma appeared next, her eyes sharp yet affectionate as she took in the sight of you two. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple," she said with a teasing lilt in her voice, her gaze lingering on the space between you. "I must say, Jude, you’re looking dashing tonight."
Jude's smile widened, but his hand subtly brushed against You, sending a thrill up her spine. "Thank you. It’s great to see you," he responded, though his attention never fully left you.
Your gaze lingered on Jude, your thoughts clouded with admiration and something deeper, something that made your heart race. Your Grandma’s words barely registered as she continued, “And how was the Euro final? We were all glued to the TV, cheering for you!”
Your Uncle Michael joined the conversation, his face lit up with excitement. "We were screaming the house down! Me and the lads from the pub couldn’t believe it when you scored that winning goal. Everyone was talking about it!”
You shifted uncomfortably. The praise directed at Jude felt overwhelming, especially as your own achievements were being overshadowed. They each forgot the Women’s World Cup again, with the conversation seemingly revolved solely around Jude’s Euro final. You bit your lip, focusing on Jude’s sleek, tailored tux instead of voicing your frustration, but the intensity of your feelings were hard to ignore.
Another relative, Cousin Lisa, chimed in enthusiastically, “Honestly, Jude, you were phenomenal. The whole neighborhood was talking about it. I think they’re still raving about it!”
Jude’s eyes shifted to you, noticing your distant expression. He could sense your discomfort, the subtle tension between you growing as he decided to address it with a hint of humor. “Well, I don’t know. What do you think, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he glanced at you with a playful smirk.
Uncle Michael raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What would she know? She’s not the one who made it to the final.”
Jude chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Actually, I think Y/N has a pretty good perspective. She didn’t just make it to the final—she won the whole Women’s World Cup,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and admiration.
The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt a surge of pride and attraction. The way Jude acknowledged your achievements made your heart race, adding to the growing warmth between you. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his with a newfound intensity, the air between you tao crackling with unspoken desire.
"Well, congratulations to both of you," Aunt Karen said, her voice sincere. "You both have so much to be proud of."
You managed a smile, though your attention remained focused on Jude. His presence, the way he spoke up for you, and the genuine admiration in his eyes made your heart swell with affection, and something more—a hunger that you couldn’t quite quell.
As the relatives continued to chat and praise Jude, you found it difficult to pull your gaze away from him. His tuxedo, his confident demeanor, and his unwavering support for you in front of everyone only amplified your attraction to him. It was a reminder of why you were so drawn to him, beyond the accolades and the excitement of the evening.
Amid the chatter, you reached out and took Jude’s hand under the table, your fingers lacing with his. You squeezed it gently, your touch lingering. "Thanks for standing up for me," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
Jude’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing against your hand in a slow, deliberate caress. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and reassuring, filled with a promise of more.
As you continued to mingle, the focus gradually shifted back to the others, but your thoughts were miles away, lost in the way Jude’s touch made you feel. There was a contentment in knowing that despite the overshadowing praise, you had Jude by your side.
As you and Jude settled into your seats in the church, the soft murmur of guests filled the air, blending with the gentle strains of the prelude music. Your attention was immediately drawn to Isabella, your six-year-old niece, who stood near the front with the other bridesmaids. Isabella, or Bella as the family fondly called her, looked absolutely adorable in her tiny ivory dress, a crown of flowers delicately perched atop her bouncy curls.
Your face lit up as she leaned forward, unable to contain her excitement. “Bella, you look like an absolute princess!” You gushed, your eyes twinkling with pride.
Bella smiled brightly, her cheeks flushing with happiness. She gave a little twirl, letting the layers of her dress float around her. “Thank you, Aunty Y/N! Do you really like it?” she asked, her voice full of hope.
“I love it,” You replied warmly, your smile wide and genuine. “You’re the most beautiful bridesmaid here.”
Jude sat beside you, his eyes soft as he watched the exchange. There was something incredibly heartwarming about the way you interacted with Bella—how you made the little girl feel so special and loved. He could see the natural ease with which you connected with your niece, and it stirred something deep within him.
As Bella giggled and skipped off to join the other bridesmaids, your gaze lingered on her, still glowing with affection. You turned back to Jude, your expression full of warmth. “She’s such a sweetheart, isn’t she?” You said, your voice tinged with pride.
Jude nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “She really is,” he agreed, but his mind was elsewhere.
Watching you with Bella made Jude think about your future together. He could so clearly imagine you as a mother, holding your own children with the same tenderness you showed Bella. The thought filled him with a deep sense of warmth and anticipation, a quiet longing that he kept to himself. He knew how much you cared for your niece, but he also knew that the idea of starting a family someday made you nervous. It was something you hadn’t really discussed, and Jude didn’t want to push it, especially not now.
Instead, he simply admired you, letting the image of your possible future settle in his heart. You had a way of making people feel cherished, and he knew you would be an incredible mother someday—but that was a conversation for another time.
You noticed the thoughtful look on Jude’s face and gave him a gentle nudge. “What are you thinking about?” You asked, you tone light and curious.
Jude shook off his thoughts, offering her a soft smile. “Just how good you are with Bella,” he said, keeping his voice casual.
Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you laughed softly. “She’s been my little Bella since the day she was born,” you replied, your voice filled with affection.
Jude squeezed your hand gently, his smile lingering as you turned your attention back to the front of the church, where the ceremony was about to begin. He didn’t need to say anything more. For now, he was content to simply be by your side, holding onto the quiet knowledge of what he hoped your future would hold—dreaming of a day when you would be ready to take that next step together.
The ceremony soon began, and You watched as your sister Eden took her place as a bridesmaid, while your brother Elliot stood proudly as Rowan’s best man. The anticipation grew as everyone waited for the bride.
As the music swelled, the doors at the end of the aisle opened, and Rosemary appeared, radiant in her wedding gown. You felt a lump form in your throat as you saw Rowan at the altar, his eyes brimming with tears as he watched his bride walk towards him. The emotion in the room was palpable, and you felt yourself getting choked up.
You couldn’t contain your excitement, smiling and gushing as you watched your brother. You had never seen Rowan so happy, and the joy in his eyes was contagious. Although you wished Noah could be there to witness this moment, your heart swelled with happiness for Rowan.
Little Isabella, the flower girl, walked ahead of Rosemary, carrying a basket of petals. Every few steps, she would delicately sprinkle the flowers along the aisle, her concentration adorable. You couldn’t help but admire Isabella’s dedication to her role, smiling each time the little girl looked up with pride.
Jude noticed the way your eyes lit up, how you seemed to be the embodiment of joy and love in that moment. He was completely besotted with you, watching you as you took in every detail of the ceremony. He knew, without a doubt, that you were the one he wanted to spend his life with.
The officiant began the ceremony, and soon it was time for Rowan and Rosemary to exchange vows. Rosemary took a deep breath and smiled at Rowan.
“Rowan, from the moment Noah introduced us, I knew you were special. I promise to always laugh at your jokes, even the terrible ones. I vow to support you in your dreams and to love you fiercely, no matter what.”
Rowan chuckled, wiping away a tear. “Rosemary, I promise to always let you have the last slice of pizza. I vow to support your dreams and to love you through every adventure, every challenge, and every joy.”
Jude felt his throat tighten, his emotions mirroring the couple’s. As Rowan and Rosemary exchanged their vows, he couldn’t help but imagine standing up there with you one day, saying those same words, making those same promises. The thought made his heart swell with a mixture of hope and longing.
The mention of Noah made your tears spill over, and you rested your head on Jude’s shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. Jude’s eyes were misty too, and he wiped away a tear discreetly, his emotions matching yours. He tightened his grip on you, feeling a surge of protectiveness and love.
As Rowan and Rosemary shared their first kiss as a married couple, the guests erupted into applause. You joined in, your heart full despite the bittersweet memories. You looked up at Jude, who smiled down at you with so much love and understanding that it made you feel incredibly grateful to have him by yiur side.
“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Jude whispered, his voice slightly choked with emotion.
You nodded, wiping your tears. “Yeah, it really was.”
You sat there for a moment, soaking in the love and joy that filled the room. Jude’s thoughts wandered to the future, to the possibility of a life with you, filled with moments like this. He couldn’t help but dream of standing at an altar, looking into your eyes, and making vows of his own.
Later that evening, the reception is in full swing. The dance floor is alive with energy, guests mingling and celebrating Rowan and Rosemary’s union. The lights are dimmed, casting a warm, intimate glow over the scene.
You find yourself in the middle of the dance floor, smiling as Jude lifts little Isabella onto his shoulders. Her giggles are infectious as she waves her arms, trying to keep up with the rhythm. You dance alongside your sister Eden, the two of you moving in sync, laughing and twirling.
Isabella’s laughter rings out, her tiny hands clapping in delight. "More, more!" she shouts, and Jude obliges, spinning around and making her squeal with joy. Your heart swells with love as you watch Jude interact with your family. He fits in so perfectly, and it makes you think about what the future might hold for both of you.
You glance around the room, taking in the sight of your loved ones celebrating together. Rowan and Rosemary are glowing with happiness, sharing a private moment at their table. Your parents are dancing nearby, looking as in love as ever. The warmth and joy of the occasion fill you with a sense of peace. God, Noah would've loved this.
The DJ’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Can all couples please make their way to the floor for a slow dance?”
Isabella is gently lifted off Jude’s shoulders and handed over to Eden, who continues to twirl and dance with her. Jude turns to you, extending his hand with a playful bow. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with affection.
You giggle and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the center of the floor. The music slows, and the soft, romantic melody fills the room. Jude’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck, and together you sway gently to the rhythm.
As you move together, everything else seems to fade away. The chatter of the guests, the clinking of glasses, and even the music itself become a distant hum. It’s as if time has stopped, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.
You look up at Jude, taking in his appearance. He’s wearing a tailored black tuxedo that fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build. His dark hair is styled neatly, and his deep brown eyes are filled with love and adoration as he gazes down at you. The way the dim light catches his features makes him look even more handsome, if that’s possible.
Jude’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes locking onto yours with a gaze that speaks volumes. His hands move gently up and down your back, sending shivers down your spine. You feel so safe, so cherished in his embrace.
“You know,” Jude murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I could get used to this. Dancing with you, being with you. Forever.”
Your heart flutters at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You smile up at him, your eyes misty with emotion. “Me too,” you reply softly. “Me too.”
You lose yourself in his eyes, feeling the world around you blur into insignificance. His touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment. The way he looks at you makes you feel like the only person in the room, and you know without a doubt that this is where you’re meant to be.
The music envelops you both, the melody weaving a cocoon of intimacy around you. You rest your head on Jude’s shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of being held by him. His scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely him, fills your senses, making you feel even closer to him.
You’re wearing a stunning dress that’s a mix of red and black, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. The intricate lace details add an air of elegance, while the deep red color highlights your features, making your eyes sparkle. Your hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down your back, and your makeup is done to perfection, highlighting your natural beauty.
As the song progresses, you feel Jude’s hand slip down to rest on the small of your back, his fingers tracing light patterns that send a thrill through you. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong, and it matches the rhythm of your own.
You tilt your head up slightly, your lips brushing against his ear. “I love you" you whisper, the words coming straight from your heart.
Jude tightens his hold on you, his lips grazing your temple. “Me too, your my numero uno.” he replies, his voice filled with emotion.
The world around you ceases to exist as you sway together, completely lost in each other. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of peace and happiness you’ve never known before. Being with Jude feels like home.
As the song comes to an end, Jude leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It’s a promise, a silent vow of the future you both dream of. When you pull apart, the room comes back into focus, but the magic of the moment lingers.
You glance over to see Rowan and Rosemary sharing a similar moment, their love shining brightly. Your parents are still dancing, your mom resting her head on your dad’s shoulder with a contented smile. Even little Isabella is now nestled in Eden’s arms, looking sleepy but happy.
You feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and support surrounding you. And as you look back at Jude, you see the same emotion mirrored in his eyes. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.
“Ready for another dance?” he asks, his smile soft and inviting.
You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Always,” you say, your voice filled with love.
The next song begins, and you lose yourself in Jude’s embrace once more. As you move together, you notice Jude’s expression shifts slightly, a familiar look of deep contemplation crossing his face.
“What is it?” you ask softly, curiosity piqued.
Jude looks slightly startled. “What do you mean?”
“You did that face earlier,” you insist. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
Jude hesitates, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Jude, tell me!” you press, your eyes searching his.
He sighs softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s just... when you were with Bella earlier, I couldn’t help but imagine what you’d be like with our kids. And when you were looking at Rosemary during the ceremony, all I could think about was how beautiful you’ll be when we get married.”
You’re taken aback by his honesty, your heart skipping a beat. “Jude...”
He quickly continues, sensing your apprehension. “I know, not now. But I also know that I want it with you. Whenever that is.”
You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love there. It’s a lot to take in, but there’s a comforting certainty in his words. He isn’t pushing, just sharing his dreams, dreams that now feel a little less frightening and a lot more wonderful.
“I... I want that too,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly. “Someday.”
Jude smiles, a look of pure adoration on his face. “Then someday it is,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you again, sealing the promise with a tender touch.
As the music plays on and you continue to dance, the future seems a little clearer, a little brighter. And with Jude by your side, you know that whatever comes, you’ll face it together.
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uniteds · 1 year
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drama I’ve been alerted to tonight that I think you all need to know:
germany wnt’s current manager (martina) dated the current manager of switzerland wnt (inka) back when they were teammates. inka cheated on martina and so martina left the national team bc inka was undroppable. martina then married a man and said she wasn’t gay anymore (she’s 55 so I’m letting it slide lmao). inka then dated another teammate (linda) and cheated on her with a male manager. linda then dated the same manager later on. also inka became the first woman to take over a german mens team in the top four tiers and she took the job from martina’s husband.
football is the best sport and nothing comes close.
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everyone making jokes about infanta sofia having a crush on alexia again after seeing how different her reaction is at the men's euros vs 2023 wwc 😭😭
well, infanta sofía is only 17, so i'm not going to comment on any crush potential 😅, but a picture is worth 1000 words, and someone looks a little less than impressed.
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source: @rtve play
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reasonsforhope · 6 months
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"Spain’s Catalonia region rolled out a pioneering women’s health initiative [at the beginning of March, 2024] that offers reusable menstruation products for free.
About 2.5 million women, girls, transgender and nonbinary people who menstruate can receive one menstrual cup, one pair of underwear for periods and two packages of cloth pads at local pharmacies in northeast Spain free of charge.
The Catalan government said that the initiative, which is called “My period, my rules,” was meant to “guarantee the right to menstrual equity.” The regional government cited statistics that said 23% of women polled by Catalonia’s public opinion office said they had reused hygiene products designed for a single use for economic reasons.
Tània Verge, Catalonia’s regional minister for equality and feminism, called the program a “global first.”
Scotland’s government passed a law in 2020 to ensure period products are available for free to anyone who needs them. But in comparison with the Catalan program, in Scotland the products are for single use and are distributed through schools, colleges and universities, not pharmacies.
“We are fighting menstrual poverty, which affects one in four women in Catalonia, but is also about gender justice. We are fighting the stereotypes and taboos about menstruation,” Verge told The Associated Press. “And (...) it is about climate justice. We need to reduce the tons of waste generated by single-use menstrual products.”
The distribution of reusable products is also aimed at reducing waste. The regional government said that Catalonia produces about 9,000 tons of waste from single-use menstrual hygiene products.
The reusable products are acquired by the public health care system, which covers the entire population, and distributed by Catalonia’s 3,000-plus private pharmacies. The program cost the regional government 8.5 million euros ($9.2 million).
“I am completely in favor of this initiative,” 29-year-old graphic designer Laura Vilarasa said. “It will give women a product that is absolutely necessary to have for zero cost.”
Spain’s national government passed a law last year granting women with debilitating menstrual pain the right to paid medical leave."
-via AP News, March 5, 2024
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