I’ve known my sister, Hannah, her entire life. I met her the
day she was born. I was there when everyone first saw the purple and blue veins
on her left cheek. But, I don’t remember seeing them for the first time. I don’t
remember giving them much thought. For the past fifteen years, I can recall a
handful of days I or anyone in my family have spared a thought to those veins
on her cheek. I have spent much more time being jealous of her natural beauty.
But, today is one of those other days, one of that small
handful. Today my sister shares a story and it’s not the first of its kind. She
sits on the kitchen counter, eats an apple and says that it was photo
day for her soccer team. She describes posing for a profile shot with her left
cheek facing the camera.
“Don’t you want to face the other way?” The camerawoman asks as politely as possible.
“No, I’m fine.” She says and holds her ground.
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m good.”
And then, having given up her crusade, “That’s some bruise! Did you get that in a soccer
“No,” and I know she must have shared an awkward smile and
laugh, “It’s a birthmark.”
And I’m sure the woman was not expecting that and I am in no
way attempting to ridicule her for her words. What I am trying to do, is revel
in the bravery and self-confidence of my fifteen-year-old sister. My sister,
who has stood in front of countless people, both children and adults, and dared
to be proud of her appearance.
“Is that a tattoo?” “No, it’s just a birthmark.”
“What happened to your face?” “It’s a birthmark.”
“Did someone hit you?” “No.”
“You know, when you get older, you could get plastic surgery. It would be like it was never there.”
I have only spared a handful of days like this, contemplating
my sister’s appearance and strength of character. I do not take notice of the purple and blue on her face. But, I know she thinks about it every
day. I know she sees it. I hope she continues to embrace it.
My 25 minute train ride home turned into a 90 minute one. The worst part is that I’m stuck with some noisy, buzzed guys who are talking about soccer. Headphones and pretty images to the rescue! Like this cosy green corner at Studio @oakandfir.
Can you please do an imagine where he’s on your soccer team in the cold and he cuddles you in to keep you warm on the sidelines and flirts with you on the field? Thanks xo - Anon
Imagine: It was halfway through the soccer season, and you were on your way to the next game. You were manically trying to shape your bed hair into something appropriate, but it was a real struggle. It was a seven a.m. game and your eyes were drooping. The only motivation to get out of bed was seeing [y/c]- who was on your team. He was absolutely gorgeous, and you had been crushing on him in secret for years. You had worked hard to make it onto this team, and were one of the few girls allowed in the comp.
>You gave up on the hair when your mom pulled up at the soccer field. Stepping out of the car, you realized how utterly cold it was outside, and how utterly stupid you were for forgetting a jacket. Hugging yourself, you quickly jogged over to join your team. [y/c] was there; looking godly as always- even at seven in the morning. Everyone was warming up, but you weren’t too worried, because you were only playing half a game today seeing as it was your turn to go off.He snorted at the sight of your poorly done hairdo. ‘Morning sleepyhead,’ he grinned. You glared at him and he chuckled. ‘Guess who you are fortunate enough to be sitting off with for half of the game today?’ [y/c] winked. His voice was even better in the morning, you thought. After warming up, your team took their places on the field, while you and [y/c] stood alone on the sideline. He had gone quiet, so your shivering was quite loud to hear. [y/c] turned to you after a minute. ‘[y/n] love, are you cold?’ he asked worriedly.
>’I’m fine,’ you insisted.
>’Your blue lips disagree. Please, take my sweater,’ You were about to protest, but [y/c] had already lifted it over his head and was walking towards you.
>’T-thanks,’ you stuttered when he handed the sweater over. You were quick to pull it over your head and let its warmth flood through your body. It smelt just like [y/c]; a wonderfully intoxicating mixture of earth and spices. You were already fearing having to take it off.
>’My clothes look good on you [y/n],’ he teased. Not as good as they do on you, you thought. It was true. His tall, slender build was perfect for soccer, and his uniform was just tight enough to hint at his muscle definition. He looked more like a model than a teenage soccer player. Other girls agreed; you saw them watching from the sidelines every week- their eyes never straying from [y/c]. He never noticed though: too focused on the ball game.
>At the moment your team was losing 2-0, but it was a close game. [y/c] had sat down and pulled you down right next to him. ‘Feeling warmer,’ he asked honestly.
>’Yeah much better, thanks.’ Your exposed legs still had goosebumps spotted all over them, and he must have noticed too, because shortly after he slyly placed his arm across your back and pulled you into his chest. You weren’t complaining though. Being engulfed in his warmth was wonderful- like your own private hideaway.
>’You know, if you were out there we’d be winning right now,’ he stated.
>’Are you kidding?’ you coughed.
>’You’re really good [y/n], possibly the best in the team,’ he looked over at you seriously. You were flattered.
>’You aren’t so bad yourself [y/c].’
>’Thanks, but I’m no star player. [y/n] surely you know that I’ve always had a crush on you?’ WHAT? You were shocked.
>’How could I not? I mean your beautiful and better than me at soccer. I’ve just always been a little intimidated by you.’
>’Oh [y/c], don’t be ridiculous! I have liked you for as long as I can remember,’ you laughed. He smiled and looked the happiest you had ever seen.
>’Well I guess you won’t mind if I kiss you?’ he smirked. At that moment, your coach yelled for the two of you to take position on the field. You had to detach yourself from [y/c], but you were eager to score back the goals stolen from your team. You turned to look at [y/c], only to find he was already looking at you. Grinning, you focused on the ball sailing towards you and kicked.
>By the end of your game, it was raining heavily, and half of the team was drenched in water, but you had caught up to and overtaken your opponents and ended up winning 6-2. You were ecstatic, and so was [y/c]—but was that a sneeze you just heard from him? ;) … to be continued
[rubs hands together] oh boy my time has come. (also SORRY THIS RESPONSE HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR DAYS I FORGOT ABOUT IT)
to start off, marcus is a forward for the samwell men’s soccer team, hes black, identifies as queer, and is just over 5′10″
this is about average for a soccer player but he’s four inches shorter than dex and its the worstTM
so the way this headcanon came about, is that it is CanonTM that the soccer team is the Gayest Team on Campus (much to Holster’s regret, he wants the title so bad but it ain’t gonna happen those soccer boys love each other too much) so like, ofc if youre a guy who wants to date a hot queer athlete the soccer team is the place to look
which, honestly, have you seen some of the shit that happens in mens soccer esp in the european leagues like, just google image search “soccer kiss” and the amount of different pics of people kissing on the field like……. those boys need boundaries
basically if dex was gonna get a boyf outside of the team it was statistically v likely to be a soccer player
ofc dex wasnt exactly looking for a boyf he just was real fucking tired of fourth wheeling to the mess that is nursey/chowder/farmer, and so was very determinedly avoiding their little lovefest at annie’s and came across a couple of the men’s soccer team playing a game of two touch soccer, which is where he saw marcus for the first time
it wouldve been romantic if marcus didn’t immediately kick the ball at his face
honestly tho, dex couldnt even be mad if he had wanted to because one look at those brown eyes as he apologized and dex’s dumb gay heart is a mess he cant take it
i would say they hit it off immediately but dex is Awkward and Gay and there’s a lot of blushing and him running off to angrily sulk that he can’t hold a conversation with this man
eventually, once nursey has stopped laughing at his misfortune and chowder feels bad enough about it, they end up stepping in
they don’t actually really help much they just end up sort of embarrassing dex in front of marcus, but in the end marcus takes pity on him and finally makes the first move
he wouldve done it earlier but he honestly found dex’s whole predicament to be cute and hilarious
honestly a lot of their time is spent bitching about their team mates, every time dex enters marcus’s dorm like “you won’t believe what happened today” marcus knocks half his shit off the bed in order to make room for dex so he can hear the drama
listen soccer boys arent good for nothing if not the drama my family is full of them okay
theres also a lot of it once dex starts rooming with nursey considering that even tho chowder has his own goddamn room he ends up in nursey’s bed half the time it’s a problem
marcus is also a snapchat fiend it is literally the only way dex can get ahold of him some days, you’d think he would answer a text but nope snapchat is the thing he’s most likely to answer to
they basically have entire conversations with just the two of them making faces at each other with text overlaying to make their actual point
the amount of selfies that dex takes and participates in increases exponentially which he is less than pleased about the old grumpy cat
(good thing marcus loves cats cuz now he has two, Dex and Lionel Meowsi)
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