#Scottish fiddle

[thatnerdyqueer]

MY FUCKING GOD if I find ONE MORE spotify playlist that says 'trad folk' or 'jigs and reels' or 'fiddle tunes' and then ITS JUST POP MUSIC GIRLIES SINGING ABOUT MOLLY MALONE IM GOING TO THROW HANDS

like dont get me wrong, love me some folk song arrangements or even modern takes on the style, but when you're looking for fiddle music and spotify JUST hands you pop music????????

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST HELP

#fiddle #LIKE ONE OF THEM WAS GALWAY GIRL #ARE YOU KIDDING ME #irish history #scottish music #irish music #irish fiddle #scottish fiddle #tw swearing

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday one Scotlands finest musicians' fiddle player Aly Bain, born in Lerwick, Shetland May 15th, 1946.

Bain began playing the fiddle at the age of 11 and studied under influential Shetland fiddler Tom Anderson. In the late '70s, he played on two of Anderson's albums -- The Silver Bow and Shetland Folk Fiddling, Vol. 2. Honing his craft in a series of local bands, Bain attracted international attention after joining Irish/Scottish band, the Boys of the Lough, whom he met at the Falkirk Folk Festival in 1969.

Aly released his debut solo outing, First Album, in 1985. Three years later, he traveled to Louisiana to record the album, Aly Meets the Cajuns. The same year, he met Phil Cunningham at a pub near Edinburgh and they agreed to tour together. Their first duo album, The Pearl, released in 1994, was followed by The Ruby in 1997.

Bain has hosted several musical series for BBC Television. Down Home explored the spread of the Celtic fiddle tradition from Ireland and Scotland to North America. Push the Boat Out, shown in 1991, was taped during the Mayfest celebrations in Glasgow. The Shetland Set, shown the same year, was taped at the Shetland Folk Festival. Bain's autobiography, Fiddler on the Loose, co-written by Alistair Clark, was published by Mainstream Publishing in 1993.

Aly had a wee health scare in 2019 and had to undrgo a triple heart bypass, but was soon on his feet again and is keeping himself busy.

Today, Aly continues to be an ambassador for Scotland abroad and a powerful advocate for traditional music.

Aly Bain & Phil Cunningham are currently touring, you can catch them next at Backstage at The Green in Kinross, on May 23rd The two will be at Sidmouth Folk Festival in August and will return to Scotland for gigs in Forres and Lanark, two concets in Glasgow's Òran Mór in September, quite fitting as the rough translation for the Gaelic name of the venue is 'great melody of life' or 'big song',

#scotland #scottish #fiddle player #musician #Happy Birthday #Youtube

[weewildhaggis]

Haar - Lauren MacColl

#scottish music #scottish folk music #fiddle #tunes #Youtube

[deltakig]

Happy St Andrew's Day

Xユーザーのでるたさん: 「今日はSt. Andrew's Dayという事で🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿の曲を。元々はバグパイプのマーチですがこうしてダンスのリズムでも演奏します。アニメやゲームに出てきそうな賑やかな曲調なので特に日本では人気な気がします。 https://t.co/usGlYA6KIk」 / X (twitter.com)

#animegao #kigurumi #fiddle #着ぐるみ #scottish music

[elucubrare]

folk fiddle traditions my beloved

#i'm listening to Cape Breton fiddling on youtube #this + scottish reels + bluegrass fiddle

[billyclicks]

📍 Bow Fiddle Rock, Scotland

#bow fiddle rock #landscape #landscape photography #scotland photography #scottish highlands #scotland #highlands #seascape

[scenicworlds]

October 16, 2022

Scottish Fish album release concert. Somerville, MA.

#scottish fish #music #traditional #fiddle #concert #somerville #massachusetts #2022

[celtic-cd-releases]

https://www.louisebichan.co.uk/

https://www.facebook.com/LBichan

https://louisebichan.bandcamp.com/album/the-lost-summer

https://open.spotify.com/album/1toTfBlALagifN1IdeHZaD

#scottish folk music #orkney #fiddle music #celtic folk music #folk music

[csswingandeasy]

i practiced violin today lmao

#my friends want me to do a scottish fiddle competition.. might as well

[unofficialchronicle]

Tom Spiers plays and introduces Cruel Mother (Child Ballad) 

#tom spiers #scottish heritage #folk song #story song #folk tales #folktales #fiddle #fiddle playing #fiddle players #violin #scotland #scottish

[bizarrecrimes]

Danced a ceilidh for Burns night down the Hiver! A good time by all. #burnsnight #burns #robbieburns #haggis #dancing #ceilidh #banjo #fiddle #accordion #allthedances #scottish #scotland #wednesday #poems #games @hiverbeers https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn2ylVkobE9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#burnsnight #burns #robbieburns #haggis #dancing #ceilidh #banjo #fiddle #accordion #allthedances #scottish #scotland #wednesday #poems #games

[scotianostra]

On November 16th 1700 James Macpherson, the famous fiddling freebooter, was hanged at Banff.

The outlaw’s father was a laird and his mother a tinker. How he became a criminal is as unclear as some of his activities, but his career appears to have culminated in “a reign of terror” on the Banff, Elgin and Forres markets. He seems to have enjoyed the Laird of Grant’s protection, but was captured in Keith when, according to his own account, a woman threw a blanket over him and he was disarmed before he could free himself.

He was tried in Banff where he was especially disliked. The jury was packed with the dependants of Lord Duff, who had previously organised a group to capture MacPherson, but as on many other occasions, he escaped.

MacPherson was found guilty, but a reprieve was said to be on its way to Banff at the time of the execution. Duff turned the clock 15 minutes forward and MacPherson was hung before the pardon arrived. There is a traditional account that says the clock was kept 15 minutes fast for years and Macduff has its west-facing town clock covered so the people of Banff can't see the right time.

The story goes that in the week before his hanging, Macpherson reportedly composed an air variously described as “Macpherson’s Lament” or “Rant” or “Farewell” which he then performed on the gallows.

In the most picturuesque version, he played his own fiddle in this exit performance, then dramatically smashed the instrument.

By all accounts MacPherson was a big muckle man, this is justified by his sword, which is preserved in Duff House, at Banff as seen in the second pic, and you have to question the story a wee bit.

The first pic is a depiction of MacPherson playing before they hung him, now would they have given a Goliath the free use of his hands at such a desperate moment?

Well there are, as always different versions of the song, I will post my favourite afterwards, which was written by oor Bard Rabbie Burns, this is an earlier version:

Fareweel, ye dungeons dark and strang, fareweel, fareweel tae ye,

MacPherson's time will no be lang on yonder gallows tree

Chorus

Sae rantinly and sae wantonly, sae dauntinly gaed he

For he played a tune and he danced aroon, below the gallows tree

It was by a woman's treacherous hand that I was condemned tae dee

Above a ledge at a window she sat and a blanket she threw ower me

There's some come here tae see me hang, and some come tae buy my fiddle

But before that I would part wi her I'd brak her through the middle

And he took the fiddle intae baith o his hands and he brak it ower a stane

Sayin, nay other hand shall play on thee when I am dead and gane

The reprieve was comin ower the Brig o Banff tae set MacPherson free,

But they pit the clock a quarter afore, and they hanged him frae the tree.

Additional verses

The Laird o Grant, that Hieland saunt, that first laid hands on me,

He pleads the cause o Peter Broon, tae let MacPherson dee

Untie these bands frae aff my hands and gie tae me my sword,

And there's no a man in all Scotland but I'll brave him at a word.

#scotland #scottish #history #Fiddle player #Execution

[coffee-and-allnighters]

the fact that I wasn’t born with the musical ability to be a folk singer playing my tin whistle in empty, whisky-and-old-smoke-soaked local pubs but instead am wasting my youth being an exhausted corporate publishing lackey is cruel and unfair

#I wanna be a musician so fucking bad this year I can’t explain it #I think it would fix me if I had a seal tattoo and a fiddle #oh and a side shave #I’ll be taking no further questions #why am I not recording my own versions of the Scottish murder ballads #why why why why

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter Two

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

1.1K

Series Masterlist

"Have you saved your work yet?"

Carlos knew better than anyone how hard she was working. Between writing her next book, using social media to market, and answering emails from her editor, she as flat out. He was incredibly worried about her.

She looked up at him for just a second before saving her work. The moment she did, Carlos pushed the lid of her laptop closed. "Carlos!" She cried. She went to open the laptop again, but Carlos pulled it from the table.

"One hour, mi amor. Give me on hour, and then I've give you your laptop back."

She thought on it. "You promise just an hour?"

"I promise," he said as he stepped towards her, the laptop against his chest. "We can go and get coffee together." He leaned down and pecked her lips.

She pouted as he pulled away. "You're too good to me."

"Because I just love you so much," he said and kissed her again.

***

The story of Carlos Sainz's relationship with Rebecca Donaldson broke in the early hours of the next morning. Neither of them were aware.

Carlos didn't check his phone when he woke up. He went on a run in the early hours of the morning and spent a few hours working out, like he did every day, all while she slept.

When he got back, she was still sleeping. Carlos made two coffees and brought them to the bedroom. Placing them down onto their bedside tables, Carlos leaned over and kissed his head. "Wake up, mi corazón," he said softly.

She stirred awake and glared at her husband. "It's so early," she groaned, pressing her face further into the pillow.

His laugh echoed around their bedroom. "It's not that early, my love. I got you coffee, drink up."

They had just a few hours together before she was having an online meeting with her publishers in her office and Carlos was meeting with the team at Ferrari.

He opened his laptop and logged into the call. He was rarely in a bad mood these days, the team at Ferrari noted. It was a surprise to all of them, especially after the story they had sold to the media that morning. "Carlos, I'm sure you've heard the news."

The smile dropped from Carlos's face, replaced by a frown. "What news?" He asked. He hadn't yet been on any social media, had seen none of the news articles flash up on his phone.

"We made a decision here at Maranello, one we felt would benefit the entire team," somebody else said. "After some recent events, all of which were out of our control, we thought it best to give the media something more digestible. To do so, it was leaked to the press that you were potentially romantically linked to Rebecca Donaldson, the Scottish Model."

All expression dropped from Carlos's face. He turned on his phone and, for the first time, saw the news. The news about him.

The photo of himself with Rebecca Donaldson wasn't obviously photoshopped, but there was no other explanation. There he was, in a picture with a woman he had never met.

"See, the things is, Carlos, what else are we supposed to do? Do you want Ferrari to crumble?"

No, obviously he didn't want that. "But what about the relationships of mine this does affect?" He asked quickly, pulling open his desk drawer and pulling out the ring box. He didn't display it on camera, fiddled with it in his lap. "What if I was in a relationship and I hadn't yet told anyone?"

"You don't want to lose your seat, do you?" It was a dirty ploy, but the Ferrari team was desperate. "You're almost thirty, you have a limited number of wins under your belt and no championships. Will any other team want you?"

Carlos's heart pounded in his chest. "So, I have to go on with this fake relationship and I'll get to keep my seat?"

"Exactly."

He sucked in a deep breath. Just a wall separated him from the love of his life, but here he was, ready to betray her. All for his seat. "What will I have to do?"

The rest of the meeting was spent with the Ferrari team telling Carlos exactly what they wanted from him. Be seen with her at races, have her in the Ferrari garage, take her to dinner sometimes. It was easy enough.

But it wasn't. Because the woman he loved was going to be at the races too, just not with him, not in the way they wanted Rebecca to be with him.

It was too late for him to back out. The press had released several stories about Carlos and Rebecca already.

The call ended, but he just stayed there, sitting in his chair. He flipped open the ring box several times, playing with it in his hands. The ring was gorgeous, simple, elegant. But now, Carlos doubted he'd ever get to put it on her finger.

At the knock on his office door, Carlos shoved the ring back into his desk drawer. "Carlos?" She called as she entered his office. He looked to the door as she walked in. Her shoes clicked softly against the tiled floor as she walked to his desk and sat herself on his lap. "I've got news about the release. It's launching next week."

"I'll be the first to buy it," he said, his hands on her hips.

Just hours ago, this would have been welcome news. The release of her book meant they were one step closer with telling the world about their relationship. But all of that had been thrown out of the window now, and she had no idea.

"I can't wait to kiss you after a race," she said, her head against his shoulder. "I can't wait to be seen with you."

Carlos said nothing. He kissed her head and held her close, relishing in these moments they had together. There was no telling how many more there would be once she found out.

Maybe he could propose to her now. Drop down onto one knee, put the ring onto her finger and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. But then it would hurt so much more when she found out.

And he couldn't do that to her.

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[trulyhblue]

Carded

Alessia Russo x Aussie! Arsenal! Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, fluff, coarse language, suggestive if you squint.

Masterlist

________________________

Alessia were a bit like Katie in the sense of your aggression — or, rather 'passion' as you put it gently — on the field.

Arsenal had a rocky start to the season, with a loss against Liverpool to being dubbed as 'second-halfsenal', as your fans and rivals alike found the comedy in your troubles. There was no technical malice behind the name, the girls would joke about it ever so often during training, but that didn't stop the hidden linger of doubt among the team. As the season proceeded, with the crucial derbies of both Chelsea and Tottenham, you started to notice how it was having a negative effect on your girlfriend.

You grew up in Melbourne, Australia, playing for your local club before being scouted by recruits when you were in High School. You joined Melbourne Victory at Seventeen, playing alongside your future Matildas teammates, Kyra and Courtney. The three of you went to school together, before graduating and parting ways. While they moved to the Sweden league, you chose to head to Bayern Munich, where you spent four years strengthening your skills and gaining wider international attention.

The move was incredibly difficult. You did not understand a word of German walking into your first day, and still struggle to communicate in the foreign language. It definitely helped when Lioness player, Georgia Stanway transferred from Manchester City, and you ended up spending a lot of time with the English girl.

Due to this connection, you had met the other Lionesses by association, one girl sticking out to you specifically.

You had properly met Alessia in a friendly match against your two National teams. It hadn't taken long for you to realise your feelings for each other, but the timing never seemed right. She was in Manchester, playing for United, and you were in Germany, both consistent in your hard work for your respective teams.

You both were called up for the World Cup squad, you playing as a regular starter in the Midfield. From your early career, you always had a deep-rooted chemistry with Kyra and Courtney, so the opportunities the three of you created set the scene for your forwards up front. It was heartbreaking losing to England in the Semi-finals, especially in a home World Cup. You remember how Georgia sat with you after the game, waiting until she knew you were okay before she went off to celebrate.

You reciprocated the kindness by watching the final, feeling upset for the Lionesses when the score did not turn out their way. The two of you wondered what the next step was for you.

You had trouble mulling over the end of your contract, knowing Georgia had just renewed hers. After the World Cup, the recognition of the public had a great turnout, and your agent was met with many expressions of interest.

When Arsenal's name popped up on that list, you knew it was a no-brainer.

You and Alessia had both transferred in the same week, Kyra a few weeks later. The blonde and you moved in together, having both no place to live and hit it off from there. Now, a few months in, you've never been happier.

"Alright girls, we can do this." You heard Kim shout from beside you. Alessia was holding your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shorts as the team huddled around each other.

"Go out and set the scene. First tackles, first corners, everything, alright?"

You were versing Chelsea, the London Derby, in a sold-out Emirates, and you could feel the nerves radiating off Kyra from in front of you. Kim was the Captain today, her Scottish accent shouting as both the starting eleven and subs hugged one another. The lead-up to this game was beyond stressful, the pressure of starting in such a critical game building on Alessia and you over the past few days. The whole ordeal was daunting, having not ever played in a derby of this significance before.

"London is Red, girls, let's go!" Katie shouted, earning the huddle to disperse as everyone took their starting positions.

You could feel the sweat compile over the creases in your hands, wiping them twice over before jogging to your place on the wing. You found yourself looking out to the crowd, waving at the group of fans chanting your name. Erin Cuthbert was quick to join your side, standing close by as the cheers grew louder in anticipation.

Alessia was upfront, watching you with adoring eyes. You offered her a tight-lipped smile, pursing your lips and blushing when she sent a toothy grin and thumbs up your way. However; the moment was short-lived as the referee was quick to blow her whistle, commencing the game.

It was apparent that Chelsea was not expecting the energy Arsenal brought to the game. Errors and miscalculated passes were being carried out left and right, the chemistry between both sides slipping beneath the heightening apprehension.

“I'm here!” You called, speeding along the wing as Katie hesitated on the other side of the pitch. The Chelsea girls had left your front wing open, crowding in the midfield, evidently oblivious to the mistake they’d produced. You heard Emma Hayes yelling to cover your end, but Katie had already seen you, crossing the ball to your end. Cuthbert was on your tail, trying hard to stub your sprint in an attempt to stuff you up.

Victoria was to your right, onside yet swarmed with about three defenders. Beth was not far behind; Chelsea defenders were swarming the box in a desperate endeavour to clear Arsenal’s attempt.

You had no other choice but to nimble the ball through Fleming’s legs and towards Vic, who helplessly maneuvered the ball through the maze of defenders before passing to Mead. Cuthbert had put her hands behind her back, using her body to shield Beth’s fake attempt at the goal. You watched with your breath hitched as Beth powered the ball to the goal, observing the swift motion of the back of the neck.

Alessia was the first to wrap your arms around you, holding you up, carrying you over to where Katie was gripping Beth for dear life.

The rest of your team celebrated around you, screaming among the thousands of people in the crowds, smiles etched on all your faces.

“You’re doing so well.” Less yelled, hoping you’d hear her praise over the booming echo of cheers circling the Emirates. She knew you heard her from the blush that spread your cheeks, making your already flushed face all the more flustered. Your girlfriend wrapped her hands around you, swaying you from side to side one more time before you patted her back and let go.

Her eyes watched your figure jog back to your spot near Cuthbert, who pushed her way into your shoulder before the whistle for the restart blew. You tried your best to ignore her antics, using your legs to propel you towards the ball.

Turns out, Chelsea didn't like what you just did.

Erin followed you up and down the pitch, tugging your shirt everywhere she went. Whenever you tried to run forward and make a chance for your team, the Scottish woman would yank you back, locking her arm around your body, keeping you glued to the sideline.

Chelsea evened the score only a couple of minutes later. The sweat dripping down your forehead was enough to tell anyone how hard you were trying. Erin wasn't the only one giving you grief; Fleming was always a few metres away, darting through the midfield easily without you to worry about.

You were finally given the ball from a cross from Victoria, who mustn't have realised how cornered you were. You hadn't left the sideline in twenty minutes now. Fleming was now to your left, running up against you with Erin’s arm holding your waist. You struggled to keep the ball at your feet, the crowd watching in delight as the three of you battled it out alone.

You had managed to dart the ball between Jessie’s legs, causing an audible reaction from the fans, but it seemed that your face was too preoccupied with meeting the grass to soak up any type of honour you were receiving.

You felt the ground against your cheek, your body falling from stubs to the foot. You groaned at the instant pain up your leg, causing you to hold your shoe and roll onto your back. The adrenaline from the game made the pang bearable, but you knew the tackle was far from clean way before the whistle had blown.

“Oh, get up. What a fucking baby.” You heard Erin say, her Scottish accent full of malice.

“I didn't know Chelsea hired my Nephew.” An Irish accent quipped nearby. “Cause all he does is throw a tantrum when he doesn't get what he wants.”

“It was clean.”

“Oh, fuck off, you slimy t—”

You didn't get to hear the rest of their dispute, too busy nursing your foot with your hands. Steph had broken the two up, ordering Katie to run back to the other side. Sam Kerr was also around, kneeling beside you amidst the strain.

“You ‘right, mate?” Your Aussie Teammate helped you up, holding out her hands and rubbing your back as you regained balance. The Skipper had been your mentor since you joined the Tillies. The older woman was an idol of yours, and you looked up to her despite the few years between you.

However, you couldn't respond to Sam in time, for she was pushed away harshly by a certain blonde, her blue eyes reeling with anger at the sight of the tackle you endured.

“Stay away from her, Kerr.” She snarled, using her arm to support your weight onto one foot. You put your hand on her chest, shooting a silent apology to Sam, who shrugged nonchalantly before sauntering off.

“Y/N, are you alright?” The referee asked the yellow card still in her hand. You knew you had the power to play it over the top, but this game was everything to you. You didn't want to be subbed off any time soon.

But your girlfriend wasn't having any of it.

“She,” Less pointed to Erin, who was standing by a regretful Fleming. “Needs to be sent off for that. She's been harassing Y/N all game. It was obviously on purpose. Did you see it? It was stubs to the—”

“Lessi, stop, it's alright. I'm fine.” You swapped glances from your girlfriend to the Ref, who was still looking at you for reassurance in regard to your physical wellness. “I’m fine.” You repeated, and the whistle was quickly blown for a free kick, and a yellow toward Cuthbert.

Alessia looked down at you cautiously, eyeing your leg and the slight weariness in your step. “Are you sure?” She asked.

When you nodded, she jogged over to her position once more, sighing at your stubbornness as you prepared for your kick.

Ilestedt’s goal only a few minutes later sent all of the girls into a frenzy. You sprinted over to the Swedish player, jumping onto her back and kissing her head, laughing as you felt the rest of your team surround you in hugs and celebrations. The screams and cheers in the stands were phenomenal. No one expected the Reds to be beating the Blues so early into the game.

Erin was hot on your tail when Caitlin punted the ball towards you. You made the sprint down the line, your Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin both yelling out for a pass. You were about to boot it behind you, where Steph was waiting for the assist when you felt your legs give out for the second time that game. The grass met your face, the power of the fall leaving you in shambles, the ball long forgotten by the time your hand shot up to the blood running down your nose.

Steph was by your side, forgetting all about the game still in play. Alessia had gained possession of the ball, holding it in her hands by the time you had sat up, the whistling blowing when the Ref noticed the amount of red spilling down your shirt.

“Move your hand.” Steph uttered, holding your face and using her own shirt to hold your nose. “It’s not broken.” You did as you were told, your nose warm at the contact of the ground, only slightly sore. She looked up to Kim, who you knew was fuming underneath her worried gaze.

“I don't want to be subbed off.” You said, and you saw Kim nod, agreeing before storming up to the Referee, who was talking sternly to Erin.

Beside her was Alessia, with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed into a furious knot, you watching in horror as a yellow card was shown her way. Katie had made it just in time to take her away, gripping the girl’s shoulders and guiding her towards you.

The medics had come on to see to your nose whilst handing you another shirt to change into. They assessed the blood, which was slowly halting, and declared that you had just knocked it. You told them you didn't want to go off, and with a nod from Katie and approval from the Referee, you stood off the field patiently before you were allowed back on.

During those painstaking moments, you pondered on what Alessia had said that made her get the yellow. You knew Erin was already on thin ice, and in yesterday’s training, Jonas had said that if given the chance, Alessia was to take the penalties. You knew the English girl. She was never much of a violent person on the field, choosing to stay calm and collected rather than angsty and irate when something didn't go her way.

But in games like this, where everything was on the line, it was hard to deny the apparent tension behind her actions. When it came to you, she’d sacrifice everything. For you, she’d take a million yellows if it meant sticking up for you.

You had sprinted up near Fleming when the girls ran towards your goal. The stadium stood in anticipation, the adrenaline of Arsenal’s streak pumping through their cheers. Alessia found the ball under her feet, her shot hitting the back of the net with a swish. You couldn't hear anyone but yourself, the pain and exhaustion from the half leaving your body the very moment you wrapped your legs around Less’s waist.

The girl held you up with her hands, holding under your thighs, squishing the skin just under your arse before putting you down. You laughed at her cheeky grin, relishing the private moment between the two of you before the rest of the girls stampede their way around you.

“LESSI RUSSO!” Beth screamed, hugging the two of you as she jumped in excitement. Arsenal were beating Chelsea — the top of the ladder — three-one going into the second half. If they scored once more, it’d be the Blue’s worst defeat in five years.

The thought was the utmost motivation.

You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised to find yourself walking back on in the second half. Your nose had stopped bleeding during half-time, but the ache was still attending when you made your way to the wing.

Just before you went out, you felt familiar hands grip your waist, pushing you against the wall of your cubby. You saw Alessia’s glare eye your kit and the way she licked her lips at the sight of your flushed countenance. Her starved eyes roamed your face. Your lips met hers in a hungry kiss, knowing the rest of the girls were in their own world as they prepared for what was to come.

“You’re playing really good.” You said, holding her biceps, your finger drawing circles against her skin.

Alessia hummed, meeting your lips again, nipping your bottom lip before pulling away. “So are you, baby. ‘Making me so proud, you are.”

The compliment went straight through you. Her eyes continued to linger on you as you walked back out onto the pitch. You swallowed any pre-existing desire you had for the girl as Jessie Fleming walked by your side, offering you a curt, determined smile, then going stone-faced.

The rivalry in the second half displayed by both sides was nothing in comparison to the anger radiating in the last forty-five minutes of the London Derby.

Katie and Caitlin both got cards in two minutes of each other. Lauren James, Chelsea forward, fifteen minutes later. Illegal tackles were thrown left and right, pushing, shoving, ploughing everywhere you looked.

Emma Hayes must've thought Erin would've been sent off if been marking you for another second. Jessie was a much cleaner opponent, but as the time ticked over, the end of the match and the taste of victory near, the Canadian found haste in her decisions, making a rather late decision in tackling you near the sideline.

“Fuck, sorry.” She spoke, and while remorseful, she seemed too engulfed in the loss to speak much truth. She took her yellow graciously but made no attempt to reconcile with you. She walked over to Sam, who gave her a scornful glare, making the younger girl cower. You took your time getting up off the grass, stretching out the tension in your hamstrings before straightening back onto your feet.

On her way over to you, Alessia shot the dirtiest glare she could muster towards Fleming, not realising that many fans would catch the interaction on their phones. She made her way over to you, kissing the top of your forehead, making no endeavour to hide her public affection towards you.

Your relationship with Alessia was extremely private. You didn't want the public to know every detail of each other, and how you lived day to day in each other’s company, but that didn't mean you didn't like to tease your relationship over social media every once and a while. The Arsenal girls were all for a photo dump on Instagram, and many of the fans had caught onto your close proximity in some of the photos.

One of them in particular caused the rumours of your relationship to form. It was in Katie’s dump, a couple of weeks after your move to Arsenal. A group of girls were all sitting together in a booth, somewhere in a random London pub, but there wasn't enough room, leaving you to sit on Alessia’s lap when the photo was taken. From there, everyone assumed the two of you were dating, and while neither of you confirmed anything, it wasn't a secret you were trying hard to keep.

The game proceeded and not long after, an easy penalty was given to your side after a Chelsea defensive miscommunication. It was Alessia who took it, and the crowd made deafening sounds of joy as the Reds crowded around each other in celebration.

You were beating Chelsea 4-1.

The feeling was euphoric. Nothing could beat the sour, everlasting annoyance planted on Cuthbert’s face. Nothing could take you away from the overwhelming happiness that overtook your body when the full-time whistle blew, leaving Arsenal in glee at the massive takedown on the reigning top-of-the-ladder.

Alessia was up against you the moment you met each other’s glance. She pulled you off the ground, spinning you around in circles, making you squirm and squeal as she tickled your sides.

“You did so well, baby.” She sounded, her breath tickling your ear. You shivered, trying hard to hold in your yearning. Alessia knew how to rile you up, hands coming up to glue to your shoulders, massaging the knots that had formed from the tiresome run you just had. You groaned at the relief. Alessia smirked at the whines coming from your mouth.

“All for me, baby?”

You hid your face in her chest at that, face red at her undistinguished connotations. She laughed, holding your chin, placing a quick peck on the side of your lips, pulling you back into her afterwards.

You waited until she was soaking up the silence, a small smile decorating your sweaty face.

“Did it all for you, Lessi.”

____________________________

#arsenal wfc #caitlin foord #arsenal #beth mead #chelsea #chelsea women #jessie fleming #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #kyra cooney cross #erin cuthbert #sam kerr #millie bright #emma hayes #auswnt #lionesses #kim little #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #laia codina #vivianne miedema #championsleague #barclays wsl #wsl 23/24

[scenicworlds]

May 18, 2024

Scottish Fish! Portland, ME.

#music #live #fiddle #scottish #fish #portland #maine #2024