Manchester United have come to an agreement with Crystal Palace to acquire the 21-year-old’s signature for a reported fee of £50m. Wan-Bissaka is set to travel to the Red Devils’ Carrington Trainin…
Manchester United striker Sanchez ended his goal drought by scoring a late goal against Japan in a 4-0 win in the Copa America. The Chilean forward has struggled to find goal since joining the Red …
Red Sky Sports revealed in a bulletin urgently, Sergio Ramos, Real Madrid defender, has been asked to leave the ranks of the team of Real and go to Manchester United.
Recent days have seen an obvious interest in the English side to contract with Ramos, in the context of the search for coach Louis van Gaal contract Manyo the center of defense in the current Il Mercato.
Given the difficulty of recruiting Mats Homless who preferred to remain with Borussia Dortmund, and the arrival of Nicklas Ootamendi price of 50 million euros compared to the free view of the press Ramos, who revealed he has no intention of leaving the riyal to I brought the right opportunity.
Sky also stressed that Manchester United to Real Madrid officially presented to the £ 28.6 million to contract with the Spanish international, and confirmed to inform management Ramos Alsantaajo his desire to leave the Bernabeu and go to Old Trafford property.
The duo Real Madrid currently interested "Ootamendi and Hquierdan Mostafi" My Heart Valencia defense, according to the Spanish press, maybe one of them is the likely successor as the first defender in Almiranji Ramos left the Reds.
barcelona, europa, football, man untd, real madrid, sergio ramos, sky sport, sport
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- a man who cares too much about his clothing and personal appearance
- something that is very good or impressive; a very good example of something
(masterlist here.)
If there was one thing Isla Perkins knew how to handle, it was heartbreaks.
Matter of fact, she was kinda known for being an expert on it.
Growing up with an unhealthy addiction to Disney movies and chick-lit novels, Isla may or may not have been completely influenced by the (improbable) chance of finding her One True Love at the most random situations, and a part of her inner romantic self grasped into that thought with all (little) hope she still had.
Meaning Isla was a true believer in the possibility of turning assholes into good guys, that the stranger she spilled coffee on would turn out to be the father of her children and that the love of her life was just around the corner.
(And people who knew her were just too kind to tell her otherwise.)
Yet after kissing too many frogs and learning the hard lesson that sometimes assholes are just simply assholes, Isla became an Expert On Heartbreaks.
(But she refused to throw the towel regarding Romance and Fate.)
(After twenty three years she was now probably the sole member and president of the True Romantics Club.)
So yes, as an Expert On Heartbreaks she knew all about the stages of it and how to properly mend a crumpled heart - or at least try to.
This was why she was obviously in charge of Ruby's pity party.
Not that she'd call it a pity party at her face, obviously.
Nope, for her friend, Isla was proudly - and extra cheerfully! - organizing a Super Fun Girls Night (exlamation point).
There'd be lots of alcohol and dancing and grinding into many homossexuals men as if there was one very valuable thing Isla learned was:
Gay clubs > het clubs.
At least when it came to the fine art of letting yourself go wild, whipping your hair to Beyoncé and talking shit about your ex-fiancé whilst hearing chorus of "Oh no he didn't!".
And that was what she hoped Ruby would do that night, as they'd been through the stages of:
- denial ("What?! You and Tim broke up? No!"),
- anger ("He's an asshole. Let's set his house on fire."),
- bargaining ("Are you sure you guys can't fix it? Not even with a special blowjob?")
- and depression ("Here, have the rest of my Ben&Jerry's, imma grab another spoon and we can cry listening to old Taylor Swift songs.")
It was time for Isla's favorite.
Acceptance.
Because with acceptance came that feeling of freedom and relief and hope that hey, maybe love was just around the corner.
Not on the gay club, sure, but the point of the gay club wasn't finding love.
It was to have pure and simple fun.
Not worrying about creepy dudes feeling you up or having to twerk a bit harder to catch someone's attention, receiving cool compliments about your outfit cause some people do know the difference between a stiletto and a pump and how hard it is to walk on either, being able to dance as slutty as you wanted cause oh well, everyone plays for the same team anyway!
Isla wanted Ruby to have fun.
But apparently her friend wasn't.
"Do you want another drink?" Isla tried to sound extra chirpy, ignoring her friends sulking expression "On me?"
"I honestly want my bed." Ruby grunted, taking a teeny tiny sip of her watery vodka red bull "And Netflix."
"Nope. No. No." Pointing a finger at Ruby's face, Isla scolded "Turn that frown upside down! C'mon, it's Super Fun Girls Night!"
Ruby gave her friend a weak smile - A for effort, on both of their parts -, nodding "Okay. One more drink. In honor of our Super Fun Girls Night. I'll try to have fun. I promise."
Her friend seemed pleased with her reply, squealing out a "yay!" and Ruby's grin turned into a real one.
Damn, Isla's positive slash lively attitude could be contagious sometimes.
And so was of the group of - sadly - insanely attractive gay blokes grinding to Nicki Minaj behind her, Ruby joining them as Isla made her way to the bar.
If she was at a het club she'd make flirty eyes, and play with her hair a little and (maybe) do a little giggling, but since she knew no dude at the premises would fall for that, she elbowed her way to a tiny space at the bartender's eyesight, not even caring whether she'd get bad looks or not.
The guy at her right side let out a loud, complainy huff, analyzing her outfit up and down and seeming slightly impressed by her Louboutin pumps, whilst the guy on her left side didn't even seem to notice her presence.
Maybe because he was a little over seven foot tall apparently, and too busy focused on the menu to notice a midge that wasn't even of his preferred gender on her tiptoes next to him.
Who even read the menus on clubs?
Summoning up: everything is crazy expensive - and pretty watered down.
Seven foot tall guy had really nice hair tho, it was very shiny and flowy, seemed über soft too, and she had to bite her lip to not ask him which products he wore.
Because if his perfectly styled hair wasn't enough of a sign, the fact that he wore shoes as highly priced as her own and had a skin as flawless as a peach - seriously though, Isla should just grow some balls and ask him what the hell he applied on that gorgeous hair/face of his -, the man had an overall look that basically yelled...
Y'know.
Homo.
And then the seven foot tall guy with really nice hair and skin and to do beard that was undoubtedly attractive for both males and females caught her staring.
Oops.
"You want the menu?"
...And he had an accent.
Damn, she wished she was born a gay man sometimes.
"Oh no, I'm fine." Isla smiled at him, propping herself up on her elbows on the counter to get the bartenders attention, and not even squishing her boobs as she did so seemed to work, as he was...
Y'know.
Homo.
"What do you want?" Seven foot tall guy with really nice hair/skin/face/beard/everything plus an accent asked, big green eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched her struggle, Isla letting out a whined "Two vodka red bulls!" as the bartender walked past her without even throwing her a glance.
"Okay."
It took him less than thirty seconds, a tight lipped smile and a wave of his hand to get two vodka redbulls and a water.
Who the hell drank water at a club?
Extending his hand at her - it was soft and not at all calloused yet gave very firm and confident shakes - he introduced himself "Daley."
Daley did.
"I'm Isla."
"Like an island?"
"Like a name."
"Ah. Sorry. You must get that a lot."
"Yup. So... Thanks. For the, uhm, help."
"No problem." Trying his best to continue the awkward small talk, he asked "So, how are you?"
It looked like a textbook conversation - especially with how he said it, all cute little accent and rehearsed pauses -, and Isla smiled, replying in the exact same posh manner "I'm good, and how are you?"
"I'm just dandy."
Her answer slipped out of her tongue before she could contain herself, a snorted "I can tell."
Dandy.
Dan·dy noun \ˈdan-dē\:
- a man who cares too much about his clothing and personal appearance
- something that is very good or impressive; a very good example of something
Well. Daley could definitely be considered both.
"I'm going to find my friend."
"I can help you out. I mean. If you don't mind? My friends are supposed to meet me here but I have no idea where they are.."
"Oh, okay."
Before they even reached the place Isla had last seen Ruby, she recognized her friends high pitched party squeal and looked up.
"...There she is."
Up on the stage, grinding on two go-go dancers who wore minimal underwear, being cheered on and cat called by half of the club.
And Isla couldn't help but to smile smugly as yes her plan was working and the last thing on her friends mind right now was her asshole of an ex-boyfriend Tim, drinking half of a vodka red bull in celebration and the other half as liquid courage, turning to face the man who stood next to her with a beaming smile.
"Hey, Daley, wanna dance with me until her little show ends?" Isla offered, as an insanely catchy Lady Gaga song started to play, and Seven Foot Tall Nice Everything Cute Accented Water Drinker Sadly Homo Daley didn't seem to mind her forwardness at all, twirling her around to the beat before her sentence even ended.
Isla's favorite thing about dancing at GLS clubs was knowing that she could do so as cheesily and sluttily as she wanted, because honestly, no one would care at all.
And she did exactly so, hair whipping and hand gestures, mouthing all the lyrics and not even minding if her dress was riding up or her mascara was running because she was too damn busy feeling the music...
And Daley's hands on her body.
He seemed hesitant at first, barely touching her, and well, she knew why - Isla was clearly not on his targeted public for the evening, but as she let herself go, he did the same, fingers gripping on the soft skin of her waist and inching her closer, until she could feel his breath on the curve of her neck and the heat of his chest on her back.
Yet Isla didn't seem to mind, I mean, after all, he was insanely attractive and a little dry humping on a gay man would at least serve as good practice for when she actually had to work on her grinding skills, right?
Right.
Until he twirled her around to face him, emerald green eyes and wolfish grin with pearly white teeth all she could see before said wolfish grin was glued to hers.
He was a phenomenal kisser to say the least, the contrast between his soft lips and the scratch of his beard a bliss, hand cradling her nape with such confidence it let her breathless.
And confused.
"What are you doing?" It was half a gasp half a moan, and wrinkling his nose, he replied on an amused tone "Kissing you?"
Taking advantage of her confusion, he leaned in again, yet wasn't so successfull on his kissing attempt as Isla put her index and middle finger on his lips, heaving "Wait. You're not gay?"
This time he was the one who seemed confused, eyes nearly jumping out of its orbits as he replied "Wait. You thought I was gay?"
"You're not?!"
"You think I am?!"
"This is a gay club!"
"Yes, but I'm not gay!"
"Then what the hell are you doing at a gay club?!"
"I'm new in the city! I had no idea it was a gay club. My teammates recommended me here. I was supposed to meet them."
"Well, your teammates obviously think you play for the other team..." She snorted, then paused "...Or they're just pulling a prank on the new guy. Oh."
"I'm not gay. I can prove it." He raised an eyebrow challengingly, Isla's promptly doing the same.
"Then prove it."
"Can I do so by kissing you again?"
And quoting one of her favorite Disney songs, she replied:
"Be my guest."
Growing up with an unhealthy addiction to Disney movies and chick-lit novels made Isla Perkins a true believer in the possibility of turning assholes into good guys, that the stranger she spilled coffee on would turn out to be the father of her children and that the love of her life was just around the corner...
...Or at a gay club.
--
Hiiii! I hope you liked this one and if you did, please don’t forget to click on the lil’ heart at the top of the page and or share your feels with me! Are you an Isl aka hopeless romantic? Or nah?
Loosely inspired by the time me and my friends ended up going to a GLS party not knowing it was a GLS party and it was fab.
