#Couple Offer Morocco

[myromantictravel]

Couples getaway in Morocco

Dreaming of chilling in the private pool with your loved one and soaking in some rays too? How about Riad Elegancia in Morocco for your romantic getaway?

[rafestify]

need a rafe fic please where reader is part of the pogues, her and rafe have been on and off for forever obviously due to everything he’s done but deep down he’s so down bad for reader and maybe she’s pregnant instead of sarah and he doesn’t find out until morocco because the pogues are hovering over her idk angst fluff whatever you feel!!!

Two lines — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Fem!Reader is pregnant with Rafe’s baby, but he doesn't know until pope accidentally mentions her baby (season 4 ep 10 spoilers!! ⚠️)

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of vomiting & language (english is not my first language)

A/N : as requested 😉 hope u like it anon!

Two lines, and the father was long gone, off doing god knows what. Rafe was the last guy I'd hooked up with, and even after we broke up, we somehow kept finding our way back to each other, especially after the Kildare Enduro. He knew no one else could satisfy me the way he did, and so it became this endless cycle, break up, hook up, make up. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was pregnant. I hadn’t planned on telling him, at least not until we made up.

There I was, back on Rafe’s boat with my friends, setting off to Morocco in search of the Blue Crown and Chandler Groff. My friends had locked Rafe up, tying him up in a small room, just in case. We all knew better than to trust Rafe Cameron, not after everything he’d done.

I walked into the dimly lit room, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a plate of food, and a couple of aspirin for his black eye. The sight of him, bruised, tugged at something deep inside me.

“Here,” I murmured, setting the tray down on the table beside him. “I brought some aspirin, just in case you’re feeling dizzy or something…”

He snorted, cutting me off. “What? You’re just gonna throw it in my mouth like I’m a fuckin' seal?” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but his sharp tone made me bristle. “Nobody trusts you, Rafe,” I replied, my voice steady. “Not after what you did.”

His jaw tightened, and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. “I saved your asses!” he shot back, his face flushing with frustration. “And not even a thank you was said.”

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know, Rafe. I know,” I said softly. “Thank you, really.” I offered him a small, sincere smile.

He looked at me for a moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice quieter, a bit more vulnerable. I bit down on my lip, feeling the pull he always seemed to have on me.

“Yeah,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. God, he knew exactly how to get to me.

He looked at the ropes binding his wrists and nodded toward them. “Then untie me. Get this shit off me.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt but holding my ground. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my resolve. “Just… eat the food. We wouldn’t want you dying in here.” With that, I turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me with a sigh that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding back.

As I stepped out of the room, I was met by Kiara’s anxious expression, her arms folded tightly as she waited. The moment she saw me, her face softened slightly, though worry still flickered in her eyes.

"How’d it go?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

I shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of emotions stirring inside me. "Same old Rafe," I replied, keeping my tone light, but my gaze drifted, unable to meet hers directly.

Kiara studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Soo... did you tell him?"

I frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Tell him what?"

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look. "That you’re pregnant, with his child."

Oh, right. That one.

I swallowed, feeling a sudden knot in my stomach. "Uh—no, not yet," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how he’d react." My hands found each other, my fingers nervously fidgeting as I tried to imagine how that conversation would even go. "What if he doesn’t want to keep the baby?"

Kiara sighed softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts. "Look," she said firmly, her gaze locking onto mine. "You have us. We’ll help you through every single part of this. That’s what friends are for, right?"

I looked at her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Her words held a strength that I so desperately needed. "Yeah," I whispered, a small smile breaking through my worry. "Thank you, Kie."

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and for a moment, the uncertainty and fear faded. In her embrace, I felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that I wouldn’t have to face this alone.

After battling fierce winds and waves, we finally arrived in Essaouira. The coastal city spread before us, its whitewashed buildings with blue shutters gleaming under softened storm light. Narrow streets twisted through the medina, lined with shops selling handmade crafts and drenched in a timeless, rustic charm.

The Atlantic crashed against the ancient medina walls, sturdy and weathered, while blue fishing boats bobbed in the harbor—just like the skiffs in the Outer Banks. The salty air and easy warmth of the locals, the slow rhythm of the sea, and the hum of daily life brought back memories of home, as if Essaouira was a Moroccan echo of the Outer Banks.

We continued to wander through the narrow streets of Essaouira, the sound of bustling market vendors and the distant call of seagulls filling the air. John B and Sarah led the way, their steps light and carefree, like they had no care in the world. Following behind them was Cleo, Pope, and Kiara, their conversations flowing easily as they walked, with JJ and I bringing up the rear. But it was Rafe who trailed behind, his presence almost ghostlike, like a lost puppy, following silently in our wake.

As we strolled through the maze of alleyways, I felt a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. It was sudden, and intense, as if something in my stomach was threatening to rise up. I let out a soft huff, pressing my hand to my stomach, trying to hold back the overwhelming feeling of sickness.

JJ, who had been walking beside me, must've noticed the change in my posture because he looked at me with concern. "Y/N?" he called, his voice laced with worry.

"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, the nausea worsening, my head spinning.

"What's wrong? You okay?" JJ asked, his voice low, concern evident on his face.

I shook my head, barely able to focus on him. "No... I need to sit," I said, my voice strained. I felt like I was going to collapse if I didn’t stop moving.

JJ quickly guided me to a pile of carpets that were stacked outside a shop. The soft fabric felt like a relief under me as I sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The rest of the group quickly noticed, and soon I was surrounded by their concerned faces. Kiara dropped to her knees in front of me, her eyes searching mine, her hand resting on my knee in a comforting gesture.

"What's up? What are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

"I'm really nauseous," I managed to answer, my hand covering my mouth, just in case. I didn’t trust myself to hold it down any longer.

Cleo, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "She probably needs food. It’s been like two days..or what?" she said, her voice tinged with practicality.

"Yeah, the baby’s probably hungry too," Pope added, offering a casual shrug, as if it was just an obvious conclusion.

I froze, my stomach twisting. The mention of "the baby" caught me off guard, and suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Rafe, who had been hanging back, still distant, looked like he was suddenly paying attention. His gaze shifted from me to Pope and then back to me, his brow furrowing.

"What baby?" Rafe asked, his voice sharp, as if something about the situation didn't sit right with him.

Oh god, here we go.

Pope went silent, and I could feel the tension rise in the air, thickening around us. I glanced up at Rafe, who was now standing a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. His eyes narrowed as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"No, seriously, what baby?" he repeated, his voice insistent, even stern now.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no easy way to say it, but it had to be said. "I’m pregnant, Rafe," I said quietly, locking eyes with him. "With your baby."

The words hung in the air between us, like they were too heavy to carry. For a long moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. The others were watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but he remained eerily still.

I could feel the tension growing, an awkwardness settling in the space around us, as if everything had just shifted. My hands were shaking slightly, not from the nausea anymore, but from the weight of what had just been revealed. And Rafe, he was just staring at me, his mouth slightly parted but no words coming out.

"Go get her something to eat," Rafe suddenly snapped, his voice cutting through the tension that still hung thick in the air.

Without another word, he dug through his small waist bag, the leather creaking under his movements. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but then, with a small grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a wad of cash—several bills, all stacked neatly together. As he unfolded them, I saw that he had about $400 in his hand, a small fortune for street vendors in Essaouira.

"Wait what?" JJ’s voice broke the moment of disbelief. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "They don’t take dollars, you idiot—"

"I said go," Rafe interrupted sharply, his tone hardening. There was no room for argument, no sign of hesitation in his voice. It was almost as if he was trying to regain some control over the situation, and in doing so, he completely dismissed JJ’s protests. His words were a command, not a suggestion.

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances, the shift in Rafe’s demeanor catching everyone off guard. But without further discussion, John B, Sarah, Cleo, Pope, and Kiara reluctantly turned to start walking back toward the market, their steps unsure but obedient. JJ hesitated for a moment, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s abruptness, but eventually followed along as well.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment longer, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the group before returning to me. He didn’t say anything else. His words had been clear, and I could tell that something about the situation had shifted for him.

"I don’t care whether you want the baby or not, but I’m keeping them," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. The truth was, I had made up my mind. I had to keep the baby, and nothing anyone said or did would change that. Not even Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes widened at my declaration, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, his face unreadable. Then, he kneeled down, and he let out a sharp breath. "Hey, hey, hey—who said I don’t want to keep the baby?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension to it, as if my words had hit a nerve.

I blinked, caught off guard by his response. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. His eyes were fixed on me now, intense, searching. It felt like something was shifting between us, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

"We’ll take care of them," Rafe continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I’ll be with you throughout the whole journey, Y/N. You’re not doing this alone." His voice held a kind of resolve, as if he had already decided, as if he was offering something that felt almost too good to be true.

For a split second, it felt like the world around me had stopped moving. The noise from the market faded into the background, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart. The words he said felt surreal, like they were echoing in my head. "I’ll be with you, 'aight?"

I blinked again, almost feeling like I was in a dream, like I had slipped into some alternate reality where everything suddenly made sense. But when I looked at Rafe, his gaze never wavering from mine, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It felt like a nap dream, a momentary illusion that would disappear when I woke up.

"What?" I said, my voice coming out in a whisper of disbelief. "Sorry—"

Rafe seemed unbothered by my shock. He placed his hands on my knees, his movements deliberate. "You heard me, Y/N." His words were firm, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in them.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the weight of what he had just said settle in my chest. It was almost too much to process. I had always expected Rafe to pull away, to make this harder for me. But here he was, standing before me with something I hadn’t expected, a promise. A promise to be there. A promise to face this together.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of it. I glanced away for a moment, as if hoping the world would shift and reveal the truth. But when I looked back at him, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me with those steady, unwavering eyes.

"You’re serious," I murmured more to myself than to him.

Rafe didn’t flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, as if there was nothing more to discuss, as if the decision had already been made. "I’ll be there for you. For us."

For the first time, I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, but for a different reason now. There was a part of me that wanted to believe him, to hold on to this moment, to trust that things might actually be okay. But there was also a part of me that was terrified of what this all meant, of how my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t predict.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, barely able to process the reality unfolding before me. It felt like some kind of miracle. My vision began to blur as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the emotions welling up and spilling over, probably caused by the pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t stop them. I tried to blink them away, but they only gathered faster, until a warm tear rolled down my cheek.

Rafe’s expression softened when he noticed, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close in a way that felt so natural, so steady. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his embrace was warm, reassuring, holding me together when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart, and God, it felt good to be back in his arms.

His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back as he murmured, “We’re gonna be parents.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and disbelief, as if he was speaking the words for the first time and couldn’t quite believe them either.

I nodded against his chest, clutching onto him as tightly as I could. The weight of his words settled over us, the reality of what lay ahead, and as much as I wanted to be brave, I couldn’t shake the fear that started to consume my mind. I let out a shaky breath, my voice coming out in a whisper, “I’m scared, Rafe.” The words felt small, vulnerable, but they were the truth.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands gently cupping my face as his thumbs brushed away the stray tears still slipping down my cheeks. “I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am scared too.” There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own, a glimmer of uncertainty about the unknown future that lay ahead.

“But we’re in this together,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was reassuring me. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what’s coming… but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, closing the space between us. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

His words washed over me, filling some hollow place I hadn’t realized was empty. In that moment, his presence felt like a lifeline, pulling me out of my fears, giving me a glimpse of something that felt almost like hope. The future was terrifying, yes, but it felt a little less daunting with him by my side.

I looked up at him, my voice steadying as I replied, “I’m glad it’s you.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.

He offered me a small, crooked smile, a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. “We’re gonna figure this out together,” he promised. “One step at a time.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. And in that moment, held in his arms, I felt a little less afraid.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the rest of the group appeared, each carrying an assortment of food and drinks. It was almost comical, watching them return all at once, each of them holding something different, John B with a handful of pita bread, Cleo balancing a bowl of yogurt, JJ carrying bottled water, and Sarah clutching a small bag of fruit, including a shiny red apple that she immediately extended toward me.

“Here,” Sarah said softly, her face easing with relief as she offered the apple. I took it gratefully, feeling the cool skin of the fruit in my hand, and took a tentative bite. The crisp, sweet flavor flooded my senses, soothing the nausea that had been twisting in my stomach. They watched with eager anticipation, and as they saw me begin to nibble, their worried expressions started to relax.

“Feeling better now?” Pope asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern as he studied my face.

I swallowed another bite and nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, yeah… thank you,” I replied, glancing at each of them.

They exchanged glances, visibly relieved, and a sense of warmth spread through me as I looked around at their familiar faces, each one showing their own brand of care. I realized then just how much I’d come to rely on them, not just as friends, but as family. I felt a comforting wave of gratitude for each of them, knowing they’d been there for me without question, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even thought possible.

As I took another sip of water, Rafe moved a little closer to me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. His touch was subtle, but the gesture was enough to let me know he was still there, holding his promise to stay by my side. There was something calming in his presence now, something steadying that I hadn’t noticed before.

The others began chatting among themselves, sharing their own stories of haggling with the vendors, laughing about who’d paid the most for what they’d brought. They were giving Rafe and me a moment, I realized, a chance to talk without the pogues’ attention fixed on us.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his face level with mine, his voice low and steady. “You really okay?” he asked, his hand still warm on my thigh.

I took a deep breath, the initial dizziness and nausea fading, leaving behind a feeling of clarity I hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I think so." I paused, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, a soft, almost vulnerable expression, and for a moment, he seemed like a different Rafe—one who wasn’t weighed down by pride or bravado. “That's good” His voice was filled with a sincerity that softened something inside me. "Don't want our little one and her mommy to starve, do we?" He smiled making me let out a low chuckle.

In this quiet moment, I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child. Everything just felt right. Despite all the chaos, the ups and downs, there was a steady comfort in knowing me and Rafe would face it together.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🐇

>゜))彡 taglist — @rafecamerons-national-anthem @ts1mp0ne @vheavxly @enjoymyloves @tv-girllover07 @husherstan @smthabsolutelyunhinged @multisection @onlyrealjoy @hoelesslyt @nina357

[cameronspecial]

how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions��� and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.

I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…

I Want This

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.

———

“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 

———

Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”

The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 

“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 

“Oh, why?”

“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 

“Yeah, where would they stay?”

She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 

———

After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 

He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”

“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”

“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”

“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”

“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”

She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[cherubcameron]

Love Espresso

Chapter Three: Grand Opening

MASTERLIST

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Synopsis: after her breakup with Rafe and him kicking her out. Her best friend offers her a new job and a place to stay. But when Rafe comes back from Morocco. He realizes he’d made a grave mistake. Will Sofia go back to him? Or will she decide that her new life means more to her than him?

Sofia helped Liliana carry the big sign to the front. It wasn’t too heavy but she wanted to help regardless. Once they set it down, they smiled at the sign.

The sign read:

That’s that me espresso

“Cute.” Sofia comments, Liliana turns her head towards Sofia and grins brightly.

“Thank you, thank you.” Liliana fake bows, “Thank you Sabrina Carpenter for the song espresso.” A disheveled Hector comes running out the coffee shop. He’s out of breath but manages a smile on his face.

“I need you guys to try the tiramisu cake slices I just made. I think I’m going to send people to heaven and back.” Hector excitedly says, Sofia and Liliana make it back inside.

On the counter waits two perfectly made tiramisu cakes. They approach the counter. They were used to Hector bringing in pastries when he worked with them at the country club. So they knew how much of an amazing baker he was. But when they sank their teeth in this cake. It felt like colors exploded. Like the world became much brighter.

"Did you put drugs in this?" Liliana asks, her eyes blown as she continues to scarf down the cake. It was half way gone.

"Christ, who do you think I am?" Hector says incredulously. Sofia let out a laugh. She hadn't spoken to blown away by the tiramisu cake to speak.

"This is amazing, Hector. You weren't wrong about heaven and back." Sofia says. Hector beams at her, standing proudly.

"Te lo dije!" Liliana is cheering as she says this. Sofia finishes the tiramisu cake. She wants to lick the plate; but refuses to do it in front of them.

"Oh, business is definitely going to be blooming after this. I will take my praise now, thank you." Hector says, smiling brightly.

"Don't push it, Hector." Sofia says, Hector frowns jokingly. Then returns to the back, probably to make more cakes.

"Told you, helped him discover his dreams." Liliana points out. Sofia shakes her head.

“Your mind.” Sofia says. She goes to the back, thinking about taking another one of Hector’s cakes.

Rafe decides to do the first thing he can think of. Trying to see if he can find Sofia at the Pelican yacht club. When he arrives, his heart sinks. She is no where to be found. A part of him feels guilty. He'd been the one to tell her to quit. That he'll provide for her now. No more pogue shit.

She probably lost her job for good. He walks to a random worker. He sees the brunette pouring a kook a drink.

"Hey, is uh Sofia working here?" He asks her, the girl scrunches up her nose. Then her eyes widen, does she know him?

"No, Sof-Sofia doesn't work here anymore." The girl says, Rafe frowns visibly. Shock can't begin to describe how she feels.

"D-did she ever try to get her job back?" Rafe asks, the girls face hardens.

“And why do you care? Do you know her or something?” The girl says angrily, Rafe tries to keep his emotions in check. He doesn’t know why she’s being rude. He sneers at her.

“She’s my fiancé.” He blinks a couple of times. “My ex fiancé.” He mumbles.

“She doesn’t work here anymore. Scram.”The girl says angrily. Rafe’s jaw ticks, he doesn’t like the way the girl talks to him. Rafe tries to compose himself. Trying to not get too angry.

“Okay, fine.” He begins to walk away but turns back. “What’s your name by the way. I think I’ll need to talk to your manager about your attitude.”

The girl rolls her eyes but gives him her name. “It’s Catalina.”

With that, Rafe huffs and walks away. Vaguely feeling like that name was familiar.

After a few more days, the coffee shop was finally open. They had a lot more customers than anticipated. But they managed rather smoothly. Liliana hired two college students and one high school student. Sofia typically running the register as she did when she was in the country club. It was nice, it was busy enough for her to keep her mind off of things. Especially off of Rafe. And the fact that he was back from Morocco.

“Welcome to Cozy Corner Brews. What can I get you today?” Sofia says brightly, Sarah looks at Sofia in shock. Sofias face remains the same, but internally she’s shocked as well.

“Hey Sofia.” Sarah says awkwardly, her eyes scanning Sofia. Her eyes falling on her apron. Then back up again.

“Uh hi, hi Sarah.” Sofia says, she taps anxiously on the counter. She isn’t sure what else to say. She waits until Sarah orders something to drink or eat.

“I didn't know you worked here." Sarah says, still eyeing Sofia. Sofia nods her head, she presses her lips together.

"Uh yeah, it's my best friends shop." Sofia taps her fingers gently on the counter. "Can I get you anything to drink? Anything to eat, we have a bunch of pastries."

"Uh, yeah yeah. Can I just get a tiramisu cake?" Sarah asks, she rubs her belly as she asks. Sofia is shocked to see that Sarah is visibly pregnant. Sarah notices and smiles.

"I'm five months. It was a shock to me too." Sarah says, she looks down at her stomach and smiles. "But I'm happy, I get to have this baby with John B. I couldn't be happier."

Sofia goes into the display to grab one of the tiramisu cakes. She looks around to see a couple of people reading as they drink their food. Others are on laptops, a few with neither just enjoying a cake or coffee drink.

Sofia can't help to feel a wave of jealousy overcome her. Not that she would want to be pregnant. Not right now, anyway. But that she had someone. She hated to admit how much she missed Rafe.

"Don't worry by the way, I won't tell Rafe I saw you. I'll keep it to myself. I'll let him find out on his own."

Sofia hands over the tiramisu cake that Sarah wanted, "Thank you." Sofia says. Sarah nods, tapping her card. Sofia hands over the receipt. Once Sarah leaves, Sofia feels like she can breath again.

Liliana slammed the door to her car, Sofia getting out of the passenger seat. Sofia bringing the straps of her purse back to her shoulders.

“I’m so excited to be shopping with you!” Liliana squeals. “Just like olden times.”

A wave of guilt comes over Sofia, realizing how much time she would spend with Rafe; over her friends.

"Tj maax, here we come!" Liliana says again, "I want to make a little bar cart for the living room.”

As they walk in, Sofia made wanders off. She’d remembered coming in here, looking for things to buy for Rafe and her. When he’d told her to move in with him. It sent a pang of hurt coursing through her body. She tried to think of the now, but her mind wouldn’t let her. Trapping her in the then.

“Anything you’re planning on picking up?” Liliana asks, her voice dragging Sofia back to the present. Ariana grande plays through the speakers.

“Uh, maybe some new socks. I’ve been losing a lot of pairs lately. Oh and I need new underwear.” Sofia laughs.

“Oh my god, thanks for reminding me. I need some too.” They make it to the intimate section, Sofia lets out a sigh. She knows she can’t keep her thoughts in anymore.

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me? Like- like he’ll just see that I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Sofia asks. Liliana puts down a pair of pjs back on the rack. Her eyes scanning Sofias face.

“Well, do you think Rafes the forgiving type?” Liliana asks. Sofia looks down at the ground. Tugging her lips behind her teeth.

“He would always get upset; about the way the kooks at the club talked about him.” Sofia said, Liliana nodded her head. Waiting for Sofia to continue.

“But that’s different, no?” Sofia asks, Liliana regards her for a moment.

“It is, your relationship with him was more intimate. He cared about you. I think you just need to— I hate to say it this way. But just face the music. He doesn’t seem like he’ll forgive you.” Liliana says, not trying to be harsh but what she says comes out bluntly.

Sofia tries to mask the hurt she feels. “Yeah, you have a point.” They continue shopping, Sofia trying to mask her pain. She did this to herself. She had no room to be upset.

Song Sofia is listening to on her playlist

[corriganatheart]

if he was MINE / João Félix x reader

Synopsis: You’re secretly in love with your best friend, who is in a toxic relationship.

Pairings: João Félix x fem!reader

Genre: One sided romance, sad story

December 10 2022: Right after Portugal’s Elimination.

Breaking News: Magui Corceiro is spotted clubbing with a mysterious man while boyfriend João Félix gets eliminated from the World Cup.

With an unfazed eye, you scroll through the comments.

He deserves so much better.

At this point bro is doing this to himself because this is getting old.

Isn’t this like the 4th time? Lol

Magui doesn’t give a shit about João Félix's feelings; she knows he’ll forgive her no matter what.

People continue to type out their opinions, which worsens as you scroll down. You are watching from home and is very aware that Portugal got eliminated. When the camera pans to João’s face, your heart shatters from his expression. He was in as much pain as CR7, and you know he was very excited to play for his country but was only disappointed. You wished you could’ve been there, especially now that the news is out, but you thought Magui would be there, so you turned down his offer.

You and João are both aware that Magui doesn’t like you, mainly because you’ve been friends with him since middle school, but you’ve never done anything to harm his relationship. João has had a couple of girlfriends, and all seem insecure because you know him better than them, but he has always chosen you. This was, of course, until she showed up and had his undivided attention.

Magui Corceiro is one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen and, quite frankly, João’s ideal woman. He has always gone for blue eyes and blonde hair, but something about this girl was different; he was actually invested in her and was smitten by her. Your best friend was in love and overly blind too. Their relationship is not healthy, and everyone agrees on that, but João is stubborn and refuses to accept the truth.

When he first introduced you to the girl nearly three years ago, she was very sweet, and you thought for the first time you’d be friends with his girlfriend. But as time passed, she became more possessive and controlling to the point where you went almost a year without speaking to him. Magui was jealous of your friendship with João, and it was the one thing that she couldn’t control because he had told her several times that you’re a long-time friend. And since she can’t ask him to leave his friends, she manipulates him with breakups and male acquaintances of her own. Everything about his feelings for her was real, but she saw it as a tool to manipulate one of the best upcoming players. However, still, João is responsible for how he gets treated, and so far, he has allowed every gaslighting, manipulation, mental abuse, and cheating into his relationship.

You hesitate on whether to call João or not while watching Morocco celebrate their win in the quarter-finals. Your eyes drift to your friend, Hakimi, who looks as happy as ever to win the match. Although you’re upset that Portugal didn’t win, at least one of your friends can continue on the next game.

Your phone dings from the numerous messages from your friends to your family about the video. It was no mistake or misunderstanding. The video showed that she intended to grind on the guy and didn’t care that the camera was on her. You’re sure by now someone has told João of the allegation, and this would only make him more upset. She was supposed to be there for him, cheer him on, and that’s why you didn’t go, but instead, she was in another country with another man.

You go on Instagram, hoping his comments weren’t filled with the scandal, but you should’ve known by now that everyone was on João’s case. His latest Instagram post was filled with Magui’s allegation and how João would never learn his lesson. Even with the hate he gets for staying with her, it has become clear that he won’t leave her. You’ve tried to convince him before, and that only ended with him losing contact with you for months, but your friendship was much more important than your feelings, so you remained silent and helped him when he needed you.

Leaning on your couch, you wait for an incoming call. Morocco had just finished celebrating with their people, and by now, João was probably heading to his hotel. He might even take a flight early to avoid getting crowded the next day at the airport. People can be brutal, and he was trending on Twitter for the wrong reason, and some even blamed his relationships for Portugal’s loss. It was ridiculous, but that’s how the internet works, and sadly his girlfriend added more fuel to the fire, and you can only hope that dancing with the guy was the only thing she did. Groaning from the anxiety, you decided to go for it and dial his number. He picked up on the third ring, and you relaxed a little.

“Hey,” you softly said. You hear a bag zipped before he responds, “Hey you.” You lay down on the couch, saddened by his voice that sounds so broken. “You played well. You gave it your all. I’m so proud of you, João.” He doesn’t respond to that, but you hear stuff being shoved into a bag, and you can only imagine how frustrated he must be and probably wants to come home immediately. “We almost had it, Y/N; I just wanted a chance,” he says, his voice cracking. You imagine being there, pulling him into a hug, and whispering that everything will be ok like you always do. “Why don’t I make you your favorite comfort meal when you return? We’ll have movie nights like usual,” you suggested. You hear another bag being zipped up, and that is it. He was ready to come home. “Yeah, that would be nice.” You smile and refuse to bring up Magui’s situation because this moment is perfect, with no mention of her, just the two of you. “I wish you were here,” he mumbles. You softly smile, cherishing the way he says it. “Yeah, me too.”

Your best friend texts you that he has arrived back early in the morning and is getting some sleep. You smile, excited to see him because you haven’t seen him since he left for Qatar. Many of his teammates were disappointed that you weren’t there, and Georgina has called and threatened numerous times for you to be there, but you had to decline because of Magui. But it was a wrong call on your part because, in the end, she ended up leaving early. You weren’t sure why she wasn’t there for the last game, especially since the Quarter Final is so important, but whatever happened affected his gameplay. You know João more than he knows himself, and you sensed something was wrong with him. During the game, he was off so many times, and his mind was battling between the game and his personal life. Whenever that happens, it is because of his girlfriend, and that’s why his teammates don’t like her. Many of them have expressed their concerns for João because she was such a toxic person, but your best friend is stubborn; he does whatever he wants.

“Hey! Congrats on your game!” You said while making a list of groceries for your movie night. “Hey, hey! Thanks, bud!” Hakimi says, and you notice his kids and wife are in the background as he stables his phone on something. “Hey, how’s João Félix?” He asked, his voice hinting at curiosity and annoyance. “Oh, Ahum, he sounded fine when I spoke to him last night,” you mutter. Hakimi rolls his eyes and lays his head on the couch. “If he stays with her, he will be football's laughingstock.”

You awkwardly laughed, remembering that Hakimi knew your crush on João. It was a drunken mistake that happened during a karaoke night. You, Hakimi, his wife, and a couple of your other mutual friends were celebrating a promotion that ended up with you spilling your deepest secret. Luckily everyone was passed out, and only Hakimi was the only that remembered your words. At first, he teases you about the crush, but after seeing the pain that you go through because of the secret crush, he stops joking about it. “I just don’t understand what goes on in his mind. I mean, he has you around him all the time, and he still chases the one person that is bad for him.” You sighed, hating where the conversation was going. You don’t want people to pity you because you already pity yourself. After spending your entire life being João’s best friend, you’ve realized that you’ll never be anything but a best friend. “Just leave it, Hakimi; I’m sure he already feels like shit,” you mumbled. Hakimi gives you an apologetic look before he glances off somewhere and immediately smirks.

“Hey, my offer still stands, you know,” he said. You rolled your eyes, remembering his offer of setting you up with his best friend. You’ve declined several times, but apparently, his best friend was very persistent and really wants to meet you. “If I were to date someone else, it would have to be outside the football world,” you said, causing him to roll his eyes. “Come on, Y/N, just give him a chance. And I’m sure it’ll also get João Félix thinking,” he wiggles his eyebrows. You thought back to the time João was jealous, which was never since you’ve never been involved with any other guy, so it would be an exciting thing to do. “You know this is your only idea that doesn’t involve me getting sent to jail.” Hakimi gasped and dramatically placed his hand on his chest. “When I told you to teach Magui a lesson, I didn’t mean full-on murder; I meant sending her to a mental hospital because she needs one.” You roll your eyes and tear the sticky notes off and start grabbing your things to go out. “We’ll, Mr. Scandalous, I look forward to your match against Argentina! Good luck!”

You walked down the pasta aisle, trying not to eavesdrop on the people next to you. They mentioned João’s name, so it was pretty hard for you to ignore them. “I heard from a family friend that Magui is dating a soccer player from another team,” the shorter woman tries to whisper. “Poor João Félix, he’s going to end up ruining his career if he keeps involving himself with her.” You frown at the mention of your best friend's career getting damaged. He has to work his ass off to get where he is, so it would be a shame if his reputation gets ruined. “But isn’t João Félix also having an affair with another girl? I heard that Magui only started cheating after he was caught sleeping with his best friend.” You immediately froze, the can in your hand almost falling. It wasn’t news that people know João Félix has a female best friend, but they never speculate about your relationship further than that. João has mentioned several times to the media that you’re his childhood friend, nothing more than that. Eventually, it got old, and people didn’t care about it anymore and became invested in his other private life. “That’s fake news. Would he cheat on a gorgeous actress like Magui with a regular girl? He has standards.” Clenching the can in your hand, you slam it into your cart, causing the women to jump and turn to you. Without looking at them, you push away from them.

Breaking News: João Félix actress girlfriend Magui Corceiro confirms break up with the Portugal football star with an Instagram post of her and a mysterious man.

You read the article Hakimi sent you, eyes glued on the mysterious man. You know the man, who wasn’t mysterious, he was João’s long-time friend. You aren’t sure why she was doing this publicly, knowing damn well people would be judging and talking. Every time she gets caught, she makes an Instagram post denying everything, but this time it was apparent she intends to hurt him. Closing the article, you text Hakimi a shrugged emoji and a good luck text before focusing on making your best friend his comfort meal. By now, João must’ve seen the news and probably been getting numerous calls and texts from his nosy friends, but you know he won’t speak up because he doesn’t want to ruin her already ruined reputation.

Smiling at your preparation, you text João to come over. You’ve made his favorite pasta dish and have some refreshments for the movie nights. You’ve also tried to look good and were excited about seeing him again.

10:30 p.m

Breaking News: Chelsea star João Félix spotted leaving a restaurant with a model. The athlete was thought to be going through heartbreak after girlfriend was spotted clubbing and hanging out with another man, but he had a nice date with a new beauty. Is the Portugal football player finally moving on?

Staring at your phone, you see a couple of tears landing. The pasta you’ve made had been sitting for 3 hours, untouched. When he didn’t read the text or answer your calls, you assumed he turned his phone off due to the scandal. Still, after not hearing from him for two hours, you were scared that he might’ve done something stupid, but just as you were about to flee to his house, the paparazzi photos of him with a girl were everywhere on your newsfeed.

Embarrassed for yourself, you got up and threw the dishes away, and started cleaning up. Out of all the things he could’ve done to get revenge on his ex, he went with this. It was already enough that Magui tarnished his reputation, but he had to make everyone think he was as bad as her. João Félix could’ve told people that he was over this and focused on his career, but instead, he had to be trapped in a toxic relationship that would never leave unless he let go. And from the looks of it, he was not over his relationship with Magui; he wanted her to feel jealous, he wanted her to beg for him to come back, and he still wanted her. Despite being hurt repeatedly, he still wanted her and would never want you.

Slumping down on the cabinet, you hugged your knees and cried. You cried because years of unrequited love had expired, and you needed to move on. He was everything you ever wanted in a guy, and he deserves so much better, but he would never have that respect for himself. You’ve liked him the moment you laid eyes on him when you were 14 and loved him the moment he stood up to the bullies when you were 16. But sometimes you must let go; even if it tears you apart, you must let go.

20 missed calls from The Golden Boy

The Golden Boy: I’m sorry pick up.

The Golden Boy: Pick up please Y/N, I didn’t mean to not show up.

The Golden Boy: what can I do to make it up to you?

The Golden Boy: don’t do this please….

“Y/N! Open the door! It’s been two days; you have to speak to me!”

Rolling your eyes, you glance at the pounding door. João has been banging on your door for seven minutes now, and you’re sure the neighbors will call the cops, but what can you do? He has already ruined his reputation; he might as well go to jail. “Come on, don’t be childish!” Ignoring the remarks, you scroll through your Instagram, filled with nothing but João Félix and his new beau. “Fine, I’ll just have to call your parents,” he threatens. You frown and immediately stand up and head to the door. “Don’t you dare!” You screamed.

“Oh, she’s alive,” he sarcastically says, and you can imagine the smirk on his face. Rolling your eyes, you open the door to reveal your best friend in a hotass outfit. “Hey,” he smirks, but you walk off before you check him out further. “Why are you mad? Look, I forgot, ok?” He said. You aggressively turn around and glare at him, “Well, thanks, João; it makes me feel so much better that my best friend forgot that he made plans with me.” João glares at you, clearly disliking your attitude, as he leans on the wall. “You’re being dramatic. I went out with a girl; wouldn’t you do the same if your ex was fucking your friend?” Crossing your arms, you said, “no, because I would’ve left them when they did it in the first place!” João’s face immediately turned red, angry about your comment. You knew damn well that his insecurity was being cheated on, yet you slapped it in his face. “I don’t deserve your bitchy attitude,” he warns. That only made you angry because he has done much worst. “And I don’t deserve being stood up!”

João glares down at you, frustrated that you aren’t forgiving him like usual. He had stood you up many times before, and you’ve forgiven him every single time. It makes no sense why you would be upset with him all of a sudden. “Look, I’m the one that got cheated on like a piece of trash. I should be the one upset. You’ve told me numerous times to move on, yet you’re getting upset that I was out with someone last night? What kind of friend are you?” Taken aback by his sudden manipulation and no common sense, you frustratedly walk to the kitchen. “I spend so much time cooking for you so you could feel better, you asshole!” You screamed.

“I have been by your side since day one! How can you treat me like an invisible wall? How can you only come to me when you need me?” João stares down at you, upset with your sudden outbursts and confused about your questions. “As a friend, you should fucking understand where I’m coming from!” He yells, “you know how much I love Magui! And if fucking someone else takes the pain away, so be it!” Your eyes roam his, tears filling yours, and only anger was in his. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to ruin your reputation. Someone out there loves you with all of their heart.” João chuckles as he tilts his head back. “Who in this fuck up world could truly love me?”

You stare into his eyes as he stares intensely into yours. In a quick moment, the realization was finally sinking in, and his eyes went from anger to disbelief. “You don’t mean you-“ he pauses and straddles back. Rows of tears start flowing down while staring at him; all these years, he had never thought that you might love him or even thought of being with you. The disbelief and shock only show how little he thought of the chances of you two being together. And once again, he has broken your heart. “I need you to leave,” you mumbled, voice cracking along the way. “Y/N, I didn’t-“ you didn’t let him speak any further because you pushed him away from you. “OUT!”

You cried the rest of the day, embarrassed and disappointed in yourself for being so stupid. You’ve let yourself fall in love with your best friend who had never shown interest in you. João had always treated you as a friend, and you kept hoping he would change his mind or miraculously fall in love with you, but his heart belongs to someone else. And even if he were to accept your heart, his wouldn’t be yours fully. You were selfish to yourself and him, and you needed to move on, even if it meant losing him as a friend.

Wiping your tears, you open your message app and find Hakimi’s name. With a heavy heart, you decided it was time to move on.

1 month later

Breaking news: João Félix's best friend Y/N, who was once caught up in cheating allegations with him, has moved on. She was caught dining with PSG star Kylian Mbappé and was seen leaving the restaurant together, holding hands. Mbappé, best friend of teammate Hakimi, was seen cheering when Morocco beat Portugal in the quarter-final. Could Mbappé hang out with Y/N to add more fuel, or could this actually be a true romance?

Part II: https://www.tumblr.com/corriganatheart/712468039657996288/when-will-you-publish-the-next-part-of-if-he-was

[0alanasworld0]

Atay (Hakim Ziyech x reader)

Request: Hi please can you write something for ziyech I missed him and I missed ur writing (it could be something inspired by ziyech making tea w nayef and zouma!)

Warnings: none

“YES!” Hakim exclaims, quickly sitting up as he looks at his phone. That unfortunately brings your tired, cranky morning self up with him and you groan as you lament the fact that you were having a nice, quiet night in until it was rudely interrupted.

“Hakiiiiiiiiiiim!” you whine as you shift yourself so your head is laying on the pillow again. His eyes widen and he quickly turns to look at you, his concern overriding any urge to make fun of your current state.

“Sorry, love.” he says quietly and you huff in contempt.

“What could possibly have caused you to nearly throw me off the bed?!” you ask incredulously with a scowl and he chuckles, flicking your cheek.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not on the lineup!” he cheers, dropping back down to hug you and you can’t help but invite the warmth.

“That’s amazing, love! When does trai- wait what?”

“I’m not playing tomorrow?”

“Is that not a bad thing?” you’re completely baffled by his cheerful tone. These past few weeks, it was this very situation that had been upsetting him beyond heartbreak, he loved to play!

“I’ve got better things to do with my time.” he shrugs, tapping away at his phone with a smile on his face. You narrow your tired eyes, trying to read any signs of upset, even small ones but nothing. His eyes are bright and sparkly, his thumb is twitching in the way that it always does when he gets excited. He’s genuinely happy.

“Hakim…” you repeat yourself, placing a hand on his cheek and you successfully gain his attention.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he smiles softly at your concern.

“Love, without meaning to sound bitter, this team sucks. There are so many things I could be doing rather than offering myself up as a scapegoat.” he explains.

“What’s brought all this on?” you wonder, a smile appearing on your face and concern melting away.

“When you have every important person in your life telling you the same thing day in and day out, it’s bound to make sense eventually.” he winks and you roll your eyes. He was right, you had all been telling him words to the same effect but none of you believed that he would ever actually take them to heart. But you’re grateful because he deserved to know his worth and not cast it in doubt every time his hard work went unnoticed and unappreciated.

You peer over at his phone out of curiosity and see a familiar name on the screen.

“Oh no…” you smirk, lifting your head to get a better look at his face.

“Okay this is nothing in comparison to my previous ideas.” he reassures you but you remain unconvinced. Free time was a rarity so when he was blessed with it, he just couldn’t help but go all out. He had to find something crazy to do: pottery painting classes, renaissance fairs, escape rooms, you name it. Nothing ever quite beat the balloon ride but he never ceased to find new and outlandish things to do.

“I just think that a day in with a couple of friends will be a worthwhile use of our time.” he shrugs, still looking to your eyes for any protest. He laughs when he sees your somewhat shocked expression. He knew it wasn’t usual behaviour for him but what could he say? He was just feeling a little teamsick and the closest thing he had to that team was a man he saw as a brother.

“It has been a while, would be nice to catch up, I suppose.” you contemplate and you can see his smile growing from the corner of your eye as you look into the distance. Your eyes drift to the frames sitting pretty on top of the dresser. Alongside the many photos of the pair of you on your various excursions lie the team photos. Photos from their field trips around the Qatari malls, the historical sites in Morocco. Of course there were the photos taken after their matches. Their faces all lit up with a mixture of joy and shock and disbelief. Those were his absolute favourites because they captured moments he could never have foreseen at any point in his life before that. He still struggled to believe that it happened.

He’s looking the same way and he immediately starts beating quickly as he relives the memories. He’s zoned out but he comes back to at the sound of his ringtone.

“C’mon! No time to waste!” he claps his hands before leaving the bed, much to your dismay. You groan out, flopping back into the warm sheets, still not ready to move.

“Sweetheart…” he taps your cheek and you roll your eyes, hauling yourself out and shivering at the cold morning air making contact with your skin.

You both hurry to get ready, opting for more comfortable clothes since you were likely spending the night with your friend. It seems that the pair of you aren’t the only ones to be excited because the whole car-ride there, you’ve both been receiving text after text from Nayef asking you what's taking so long.

Hakim doesn’t even have to knock the door before it sings open and the pair of you are engulfed in a bone-crushing hug by the man himself.

“I was starting to think you cancelled on me!” he tuts and Hakim slaps him on the back of the head as Nayef leads you to the living room where you see yet another friend already there and patiently waiting. He looks up from his phone, eyes lighting up at the sight of you and Hakim. He jumps up from his seat, going straight for Hakim for a bear hug that seems to knock the breath right out of your husband.

“It’s been way too long!” Kurt shakes his head and you can’t help but be in awe of the interaction. He simply didn’t get enough of things like this. The crazy adventures were great but sometimes he needed the simpler things that would bring him back down to earth and keep his heart and mind at rest. A reminder that he did have a little bit of back home still with him.

After a couple minutes of silent thinking, Nayef opts to get the dreaded uno cards out which had you a little concerned. You knew that despite being some of the loveliest people on earth that they could get a little… passionate about uno. But you decide to stay silent about it this once because it was also some of the best, cheap entertainment you could get your hands out.

The boys don’t disappoint as barely 5 minutes into the game Kurt has to go and change into a different shirt after your dear husband throws a cup of water over him and Nayef almost breaks the buzzer after being dealt some of the worst cards of all time.

“You know what! I’m really feeling some tea right now! How’s about we turn on a movie and I make you all some?” Hakim suggests, the tension in his voice is still very apparent from the game that really couldn’t have gone any worse for him towards the end.

“Please, as if you know the first thing about Atay!” Nayef laughs and Hakim gasps as he notices you giggling at him. You couldn’t help yourself, his cooking left a lot to be desired.

“Is that a challenge?” Hakim raises an eyebrow, while you and Kurt look on at the scene rolling out in front of you.

“Ha! How could it be a challenge when we know who’s going to win?” Nayef laughs mockingly and with that they’re both stomping over to the kitchen. The rest of you remain still for a second to process whatever’s just gone on. From one friendship-breaking event to another. Hakim stomps back in and he looks at the pair of you as if it's obvious what you’re supposed to do.

“We’re gonna need some judges, aren’t we?” He pushes you both into the kitchen with a shake of his head.

“Please try not to murder each other this time!” you sigh and they both look up with surprise.

“This man is my brother! I would never even think of such a thing!” Nayef gasps, placing a hand on his chest in offence. Hakim gives him a little side hug and you would be more convinced by the display if you hadn’t sat through as many of their tantrums as you had already.

At first, things start off well for both of them. No one spills anything, or scalds their hands. There hasn’t been any bickering over utensils and ingredients courtesy of Nayef always keeping a fresh stock of everything he could possibly need. Even before the competition began, you knew who you were going to pick as your winner. It was very simple for you. You’re content with that choice until you see something out of the corner of your eye. You don’t think you believe it so you quickly look up to what Hakim is doing.

As soon as Nayef and Kurt realise, they too break out into a fit of giggles while Hakim smirks, cool as you like. You think you counted 5 cubes of sugar but it could have easily been more, you feared.

The rest of the tea-making session is without any more heart attacks and runs smoothly, albeit the inevitable little spats between Nayef and Hakim. Apparently having the best spoon was a vital part of the experience and it seemed that neither would let up until they found a bunch more of the same spoon tucked away in the back of the cutlery drawer.

Once they are sure they have everything ready, and after a few more minutes of trash-talk between the competitors, they hurry over with the trays with you and Kurt trailing along excitedly. Hakim always flat-out refused to ever order Atay from the restaurants so it was quite rare that you had it, although you were both extremely fond.

You get comfortable as they begin to pour out the tea, the delicate scent of the mint warming up your senses. You get a little too excited before remembering that neither of them are particularly capable culinary wise and your love had a crippling sweet tooth.

As they both attempt to lift the teapot on the pour, their lack of experience becomes all the more apparent as their aim misses the cups and splashes onto the tray. You supposed that they were at least very enthusiastic about the whole thing.

When they finally both manage to fill two cups each, they attempt to show some class by gently placing the cups in front of you both, bowing their heads before taking their own seats.

You would have been more convinced by the display if you hadn’t seen Hakim and Nayef bicker over spoons or the eventful uno game before that. Nonetheless. You decide not to make a comment as you and Kurt grab your tea cups at the same time.

You take a precautionary sip, careful not to burn your tongue as you sample the drink. You’re pleasantly surprised by the taste. It's the perfect strength to warm your body up and the taste of the mint is refreshing on your tongue but not too overpowering. You easily finish the cup before taking Hakim’s cup. Again, you still know who your winner is but you humour the petty contest anyway. You glance up and you can see that he’s nervous. Only slightly, no one else would notice but you had spent far too much time with him to not be able to read him like a book.

You treat his cup the same as Nayef, one small sip to get a feel of it and it goes about as well as expected. You can barely taste the mint over the overwhelming sweetness, much like his coffee. One sip was more than enough but you recall the nerves on his face and remember the task at hand. You can almost feel your teeth hurting but you power through and drink it with the same, if not more enthusiasm. Its taking everything in your power to hold back a grimace because the sweetness was almost sharp.

You don’t get another chance to look up at Hakim as you’re drinking but you best bet that his are dead set on you. And he can see that you’re struggling in spite of your best efforts which causes a wave of irrational nerves to overtake him. He knew this didn't matter at the end of the day but still.

By the time you’re both done, Hakim keeps his eyes on the ground, twiddling his thumbs while Nayef looks up at both of you with a proud smirk on his face. He was within his rights to feel that way since his tea-making skills far surpassed his cooking but you had other plans, not quite ready to give him that satisfaction.

“… so?” Nayef asks expectedly and Kurt takes the opportunity to give his verdict first.

“Yeah its kind of obvious…” he trails off, looking at you expectedly and you shrug nonchalantly.

You both go to give your answers at the same time. One expected and the other… less so.

“Nayef” “Hakim”

“Wait WHAT?!” Nayef exclaims, Kurt and Hakim equally surprised.

“I like my tea sweeter.” You calmly justify, a small smirk painting your face as you take another sip of Hakim’s concoction.

“You may as well eat a whole sugar cube!” Nayef yells, you definitely don’t regret your decision now. You look up at Hakim to see him quietly laughing at the situation unfolding.

“Seriously? That’s your final verdict?!” Kurt clarifies, equally surprised but less hysterical than Nayef who’s currently burning a hole through your temple with his gaze as you look to Kurt, nodding surely.

“Yep.” You assure, making sure to pop the p to further irritate Nayef who rolls his eyes.

“I guess its a tie then!” Kurt sighs, shrugging his shoulders and Nayef goes to argue his case again but is thankfully interrupted by his temporary housemate.

“MOVING ON…” he announces, grabbing the TV remote and opening up Nayef’s endless film catalogue. Of course, still sulking but Nayef is eventually able to move on and Hakim lifts himself off of his seat to take his place next to you. He throws an arm around your shoulders and you lay your head on his and the chosen film begins to play. You decide it's only fair that you let the sore loser take his pick after the robbery that just occurred. No pushback from Hakim either although you had watched the particular movie so many times that you practically had the screenplay memorised but you refrain from making any comment.

By the time the end credits roll, it's completely dark out and you and Hakim take that as your sign to leave. You say your goodbyes and Nayef delivers a particularly firm handshake to you on your way out. Again, expected and perhaps deserved.

The car ride home is fairly quiet because babysitting 3 man children was quite the exercise and you had almost completely ran out of energy. Ever the gentleman, Hakim takes it upon himself to carry you to the house once he’s parked and he somehow manages to get the door open with you tucked safely and comfortably in his arms. He gently places you onto the bed, pulling you to sit upright so he can get you into your night clothes. He allows his fingers to ghost over your most sensitive parts as he goes about it, enjoying the way it sends a shiver down your spine while you scowl at him.

Once he gets into his own nightwear, he hurries to join you under the covers, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into your chest which you happily cuddle into. One of his hands plays with your hair while the other draws smooth circles on your back and you can’t help but sigh out in relief and pleasure.

You yelp as you suddenly feel a small pinch at your side.

“Hey! What was that for?” You whine and he rolls his eyes, still unable to bite back his smile.

“You’re a little liar.” He puts simply and you look up at him, confusion apparent on your fsce s you gaze into his deep brown ones.

“You and I both know that that amount of sugar in my drinks is barely palatable for you. Why on earth did you pick me?” He wonders out loud and you laugh.

“Eh, who cares.” You shrug.

“You’re my husband, you’ll always be my winner no matter what.” You struggle to hold back a laugh at your cheesy words and he narrows his eyes at you. Within a second you’ve borh broken into a fit of giggles.

“The look on Nayef’s face was too good to miss, you know that.” You say as you attempt to catch your breath.

“I know but at the cost of how many cavities?” He jokes and you tuck your head back under his chin. He can still feel you laughing against the soft skin of his neck and smiles at the tickling sensation.

The exhaustion does finally take you over completely and you let out one last yawn before muttering a soft “I love you,” before falling asleep on his strong chest.

“I love you more, sugar…” he whispers. Barely giggling at his stupid little joke, being careful not to jostle you around too much and eventually the eventful day hits him too. He falls into a content sleep for the first time in ages, you nestled in his warmth and hopefully having dreams as sweet as his own.

Hello, loves! It’s been a hot minute but I’m finally gonna be rolling out my fics and getting back to working on all your requests. Of course I had to start with Hakim because he’s a favourite amongst everyone and I’ve been stalling on this one for the longest. Thank you all for being so kind and understanding about everything and I hope u enjoy!!!

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 6 - Dark Phoenix II - Emergence of conflagration

Part 1:

“It’s our biggest sighting of Klaue in six months. Our destination is Casablanca, Morocco. We all know he operates mainly in Africa. Our sensors have found Vibranium in the biggest amount yet. Our mission is to retrieve the Vibranium. Klaue has become one of our highest priority targets, if anyone messes up this mission I will fire them myself, understood?” Looked around the room of agents. There were about 10 agents plus Sam and Natasha. “We leave 0500 sharp. Vibranium is the strongest metal on Earth, so prepare yourself.” Everyone stood up and took their files before leaving the conference room. “I’d hate you to be my boss,” Sam walked up to me. “I am your boss,” I chuckled dryly knowing he still doesn’t think I’m his boss. “Okay, fine. Is there anything else for the mission? I’d like to be prepared,” he said and I looked up from the leftover papers. “You know your way around raids, we can use your experience with this many recruits. You have to take this seriously, Sam. I count on you in this one,” I said and he dropped his smile and put on a serious face instead. “Absolutely, thank you for trusting me with this.” I gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder before he left.

“Any notes for me?” Natasha leaned against the table, crossing her arms in front of her chest, a slight smirk on her lips. I looked her up and down before going back to the papers. “Notes… Romanoff, I don’t know if I could give you any useful advice. Just don’t vandalize my mission, I heard that’s kind of your thing,” I said without looking at her otherwise I would have laughed straight away. “Yeah, that’d be fun though. Anyway, I was thinking you and Katarina could come over later. I’ve got something for her,” she suggested and I chucked. “Natalia, you have to stop buying her new stuff every week,” I grabbed the papers and made my way to my office, Natasha following close behind. “But I love seeing her face when she's surprised. Y/n, she stopped abnormally fast, we need to spoil her while we can,” her arm gently snuck around my waist pulling me closer so she could leave a kiss on the side of my head. A smile came along my face feeling so much happiness and calmness in our relationship.

The last 6 months were a growing experience. Natasha and I started going to couples counseling. It was my idea and Nat was pretty skeptical about it at first, she needed some convincing but eventually she agreed to do it. After six months of doing it, she actually became fond of it. It keeps us in line I think.

Natasha and I haven’t moved in together yet which I think was a healthy balance to our relationship. We made sure to build it up securely and honestly, trying to be as independent as possible while also being in a loving relationship.

Of course, we spent all of our free time just us two and Katarina. We always try to spend some quality time together, either going to the zoo or some museum that Katarina could enjoy too.

So that’s been great, I love our relationship and I feel like we will be good.

Katarina had stopped growing fast and since the surgery, her hearing and speaking abilities became better and better. She’s gonna turn 4 in just a month and she’s the most amazing little human. Nowadays, she talks your ear off if you’re not careful enough. It became a tradition that every time Natasha was over at our place, Rina read Nat a chapter of Harry Potter.

Her abilities still don't fail to amuse us. She’s reading like she’s in high school and her vocabulary is insanely high. My dad has offered that he could teach her physics and math but I denied it. She’s 4. I want her to have a childhood. Watch her play the snow carelessly, scrape her knee on the playground, cry because she can’t stay up too late, or smudge her face into her birthday cake. I don’t want her to grow too fast unnecessarily. She deserves every little moment there’s to enjoy.

“What did you get her?” I asked Natasha while we entered my office. She took a seat in my chair very quickly. “A set of the Harry Potter movies. Special edition,” my mouth fell open, and looked right at her. “I wanted to get that for Christmas. Oh my god, you have to stop at least until her birthday. You’re gonna steal all my gift ideas,” I said. I packed away all the files and got my bag. “Fine. Ready to go?” She turned with the chair but did not care to stand up. “Just one more thing,” she stood up and closed the door before turning on the shades in the glass windows. “What are you doing?” I asked and she just walked back to me and took the bag out of my hand, dropping it to the ground, making me gasp. “That’s a really nice bag, why would-“ She cut me off with a kiss. Very unexpected at the moment but not complaining.

Her hands were quick to get a grip on my waist, moving to the edge of the table. I pulled myself back for a second, taking heavy breaths. “We need to pick up, Katarina,” I panted. “We have an hour, calm down,” Natasha kissed down my neck, hands roaming my body. “Thank god, I couldn’t have left this room,” I put my hands on her face and pulled her back into a kiss.

***

“I have to make this room soundproof,” I mumbled to Nat as she closed the door behind us. “Maybe next time keep it down a notch,” she bumped her shoulder to mine with a smirk on her face. “Maybe next time-“ “I hate that my office is next to yours,” Maria walked past us.

After I basically ran to the car and Natasha took her sweet time we finally made our way to Katarina’s school and picked her up. I ordered the groceries on the way and once we got to Natasha’s place it just arrived.

Rina ran inside the apartment as Nat chased her while I took the groceries from the delivery guy. “Wow, I’ve never delivered anything to an Avenger, you guys are really cool. Thanks for keeping us safe,” said the man, and I appreciated how nice he said it. “Our pleasure,” I smiled at him. “Is it possible for me to take a picture with you?” He asked a little hesitantly. “Of course, no problem,” I stood next to him and we took a picture before he said thank you and left.

“Was there a problem with the order?” Asked Natasha as I entered the kitchen. “No, he just wanted to take a picture with me. He was really nice,” I said.

Unpacked all the stuff we ordered and after a little while I cooked something real quick, not in the mood to make anything big. We sat down and ate then Nat spoke up.

“I’ve got something for you,” she said, pinching Katarina’s side. The little girl’s eyes widened and a big smile appeared on her face. “Really?” She asked. “Yup, stay here,” Nat stood up and went off to her room and a couple of seconds later walked out with a bag in her hand and a cheeky smile on. “What is it?” Asked my daughter curiously. Natasha handed her the bag and Katarina was quick to rip open the box and when she saw it she gasped loudly.

“Oh my god, yes!” She said excitedly and observed the package of Harry Potter movies like it’s a treasure. “Thank you,” Rina jumped out of her seat and was quick to shower Natasha with hugs and kisses. “You’re welcome, baby,” she kissed her head while hugging her close. “I love you, Natty,” Katarina mumbled against Nat’s shoulder and the smile that pulled on the redhead’s face was remarkable. “I love you too, Bean.”

The rest of the day went by really fast. Clint was nice enough to take Katarina to school so I could go to the mission in time so at 4 am sharp I was already at the HQ, preparing for our departure. Got my guns and knives ready and met with Nat and Sam at the deck ten minutes before 5.

“Be aware of the trainees. I don’t want any of them to mess this up or get killed on my watch, but stick to your mission too. Be safe and don’t do anything stupid,” I said to the two of them. “She’s talking to you,” Sam glanced at Natasha who scoffed at this. “She’s definitely talking to you,” she said. “I’m talking to both of you.”

At 5 we took off with the team, flying straight to Morocco. Our estimated arrival was 6 which was successful thank god because I didn’t want them to slip away this time.

“Sam, I’ve got you new glasses, you have to wear these,” I handed him a box and he took it with a smile. “Wow, a present for me,” he opened it but the smile dropped from his face. “They look the same,” he said. “Yeah, but they have a Vibranium sensor in them. It detects metal, which makes our job a little easier.”

“Okay everyone, it’s showtime. Team R leaves first then Team W and then Team S. Comms are on at all times, you see something you share, yeah? Don’t die,” I said then we were ready to go.

Nat left first with her team then Sam and lastly me. I was very protective of this mission because I’ve been after Klaue for the last six months and he always seemed to be two steps ahead of me.

I neared the main entrance with four agents behind me, Nat and Sam’s teams already making their way inside.

It was a bigger building than these compounds usually look. Security was way more advanced and a lot more guarded. “We can get through, but there are way more guards than we expected, Y/n,” heard Natasha over the comms. “Yeah, I got that. But I’m not leaving until I have Klaue.” “You’re the boss.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Under Pressue: Cyrus Lupo x Reader

Tagging: @darqchilddaydreamz @words-and-seeds @infinity-mars @tkappi @greenies-green @trublu2u @kmc1989

Cyrus prides himself on keeping his calm under pressure. It’s what got him through some dicey situations during his time abroad in the Intelligence Unit, chasing down terrorists. He had no weapon, no partner, no back up, he’d had to rely on his wits and clear head to ensure he made it home alive.

“I was self-destructive,” he had told you when you were discussing it over dinner last week. “I was trying to find redemption by putting myself in the most dangerous situations I could just to see if I survived, it became a game…”

It’s the most honest he’s been about his time away. The two of you have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks this time around but already it feels like a lifetime. He wonders if it’s fate, the two of you always ending up in each other’s spheres. It’s happened a couple of times over the years, the first time you got together, and then running into each other the night before he left for Morocco. This time you had been working his brother’s case when he got boots on the ground and now the two of you work together in the same division, usually with different partners.

The trip up to Dargerville is the exception, Benard had been injured when a perp had gotten a little unruly in holding and Lenny was vacationing up in Florida with a couple of old fishing buddies. You’d been assigned to make drive instead, which Cyrus doesn’t mind. You used to take roadtrips the first time you were together, staying at B&Bs around the country, he’d enjoyed it immensely. You bring the snacks and he brings the music, that was always the deal.

The thing is Cyrus loves small towns, he always has. He loves the vibe and the quaintness, he spends two hours in the local dinner eating chilli and tasting a variation of the pies they have on offer.

“You miss a homecooked meal.” You inform him as the two of you share a slice or key lime.

You aren’t wrong, his shifts have been chaotic over the past few weeks. He’s been living off takeaways and the hotdog stand outside the precinct.

“Let me cook for you when we get back.” You say and his gaze flickers up to meet yours, his cheeks colour just a little because he knows where the offer usually leads.

A good meal, a couple of glasses of wine, hours tangled up in your sheets making love to you until the sun comes up.

“Yea?” He asks, his eyebrows raising as he shoots you that sinful smile. You throw your napkin at him in response.

Despite the fact the NYPD has booked you two separate rooms in the local motel, you know you won’t be sleeping alone tonight.

It’s when a Dargerville sheriff tries to put his hands on you that everything goes to hell. The moment you pick up Linz with the material witness warrant it all goes sideways. When the local sheriffs blockade the car you’re out of the passenger seat before Cyrus can stop you. He’d been getting a bad feeling about this case since the moment you started to meet resistance at the stationhouse. There’s something going on here that the local PD don’t want you know.

You’re polite and calm, but there’s a steeliness in your voice, one that clearly rubs Burkheart up the wrong way. He’s not used to be spoken to like that by a woman, Cyrus can tell from the rage that burns in his eyes when you get between him and your prisoner. He bolts out of the driver’s seat because he gets that feeling, the one he used to get abroad when shit was about to go down.

When Burkhart he issues the order to remove you, it’s with extreme prejudice. It’s a show of authority, one meant to put you back in your place but the thing about you…

You don’t respond well to someone laying hands on you and apparently neither does he. When the deputy grabs you with force that’s completely unwarranted, something just shorts out in his brain. He gets between the two of you, his palm on the other man’s chest shoving him backwards as he comes to stand in front of you.

When the guns come out, he doesn’t expect it and he can tell you don’t either. Whatever is happening in this town, it goes far beyond the death of William Simmons. There isn’t a doubt in his mind about what happens if he doesn’t comply to their demands.

It ends up with him being arrested for interfering with a police officer. When you start to protest, he catches your eye before shaking his head. He can taste the violence in the air, he can tell from the way that Burkhart looks at you that he’s waiting for just the right opportunity to throttle you.

You’re already on the phone to Van Buren as he’s put into the back of a squad car.

Love Lupo? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[rmfantasysetpieces1]

By Nick Miller Jul 18, 2022

Barbra Banda is a woman.

It’s important to start from that point for a couple of reasons.

The first is that nothing in what follows here should suggest she is not a woman. The second reason is that this is ultimately an extremely sad human story — one about a footballer who is potentially about to be denied her career — not an “issue” to be jumped on by anyone with malign intent.

You might be familiar with Banda if you watched the women’s football tournament at the Olympics last summer. Zambia only gained a point from their three games in Japan, comprehensively outmatched in a 10-3 opening defeat by the Netherlands, although they did draw 4-4 with China and performed credibly in only losing 1-0 to Brazil.

Banda dazzled, though.

The forward scored hat-tricks against the Dutch and the Chinese — the first woman to ever score back-to-back trebles at the Olympics — a combination of pace, wily movement and slick finishing earmarking the then 21-year-old as arguably the breakout star from the women’s football.

Banda moved from Dux Logrono in northern Spain to the slightly more lucrative environs of Shanghai Shengli at the start of 2020. In her first season in Shanghai, she was top scorer in the Chinese Women’s Super League with 18 goals from 13 games.

Her performances have been such that she has been heavily linked with a move back to Spanish football with Real Madrid this summer, although neither the club nor a source close to the player could confirm how advanced that potential transfer is.

She was thus expected to be one of the key players at the Women’s Africa Cup of Nations, currently taking place in Morocco.

FIFA was using her image to promote the tournament only a week or so before it started. The tournament’s Twitter feed hyped her as one of the players to watch at WAFCON. Zambia have never made it beyond the group stage on the other two occasions they qualified for WAFCON in its current format in 2014 and 2018. But with Banda as their captain, supported by brilliant No 10 Grace Chanda and electric winger Xiomara Mapepa, they had a real shot at making a significant impact this time.

Then, just before the tournament started, Zambia announced a squad that did not have Banda, along with two other players who were expected to be named, in it.

Initially, the official line was that Banda was not present for slightly vague-sounding “medical reasons”. Ultimately it emerged that she had not met the criteria put forward in the gender verification tests laid down by the Confederation of African Football (CAF), African football’s governing body.

Banda’s tests revealed elevated levels of testosterone — naturally occurring, but higher than the levels permitted by CAF (which maintains it is simply applying standards put forward by FIFA, football’s global rulers).

Testosterone level is not the only criterion, but neither CAF nor officials from the Football Association of Zambia (FAZ) would confirm what those other criteria were.

It was an echo of the previous edition of the tournament four years ago, when Banda was initially named in the Zambia squad but was ultimately prevented from competing for similar reasons. But it left a star on the sidelines, opened a debate that could easily stray into desperately toxic areas, and perhaps most importantly denied a young woman the chance to play on one of the biggest stages of her career.

The whole business is, to be frank, an absolute mess. There has been claim and counter-claim throughout, but the situation as The Athletic understands it is as follows.

Before the tournament, FAZ medical staff conducted tests to, in their view, comply with gender recognition regulations set forward by CAF and FIFA. After those tests, Banda and three players were not named in their WAFCON squad. Zambia did not call up any replacements: a maximum of 26 players are allowed in each squad, and they named 22.

The players were offered hormone suppression medication that could bring their testosterone down to “acceptable” levels, but — setting aside the moral issues of whether that is acceptable — due to side effects reported by athletes who have taken them in the past, such as South African middle-distance runner Caster Semenya, they declined.

“These are personal issues, and she refused,” former FAZ official Blackwell Siwale told ESPN. “Someone should first counsel (them), and tell that how it would affect them, or that it might affect their energy levels et cetera.”

It was reported that CAF had “banned” the players from competing, but the African federation’s position was that Zambia simply named a squad as they saw fit, rather than the players in question being included and CAF rejecting them.

Ergo, in CAF’s view, this was all essentially nothing to do with it as the governing body.

Zambia, clearly, took a different view.

“Everybody at home has been made to believe that FAZ did nothing and decided on their own to exclude the player,” FAZ president Andrew Kamanga told the BBC. “We the federations are compelled to undertake the tests and then we pass on the information to CAF, and CAF, equally, test the players if needs be in the tournament. So it will be unfair to turn around and say CAF is not part and parcel of whatever has transpired.”

FAZ made representations to a meeting on July 7 that involved officials from FIFA, the CAF medical department and others. It “appealed” Banda’s omission from the tournament.

Meanwhile, Zambia’s campaign on the pitch was underway. Banda was still with the squad in Morocco, supporting the team from the stands.

Rumours circulated on social media in the following days that FIFA had intervened and Banda would be allowed to play in the remainder of the tournament, but these turned out to be false.

FIFA did not respond when asked by The Athletic for comment.

Then, on July 12, CAF wrote to Adrian Kashala, the general secretary of FAZ — a rather brusque letter that has been seen by The Athletic. In so many words, the letter tells Zambia to get lost. The letter reiterates the position that there was “no decision taken by any CAF body” so, officially and technically speaking, there is nothing to appeal against.

A FAZ spokesman suggested that it will work in the future to change the regulations in the long term, but as things stand Banda and the other players will not be allowed to compete in the ongoing WAFCON, where Zambia face South Africa in the semi-finals today (Monday).

And that, at the time of writing, is that.

A situation that is, at best, deeply unsatisfactory, whereby a player is being prevented from representing their country and nobody seems to be taking responsibility for the decision to prevent her from doing so.

The FAZ says it is complying with CAF rules. CAF says it had nothing to do with the decision.

When asked to supply more details about its medical processes, CAF declined to do so. FIFA is, at present, saying nothing.

It is worth pausing for a minute to look at exactly why increased levels of testosterone are considered to provide an athletic advantage.

“Testosterone is an anabolic hormone,” says professor Anthony Hackney from the exercise and sports science department of the University of North Carolina in the US. “One of the major things that anabolisms do is build protein.

“One of the largest tissues of your body that contains the most protein is skeletal muscle, and when skeletal muscle is asked to do its job — to contract and produce force, strength, endurance — it has to use those proteins.

“One of the reasons testosterone is viewed as a possible enhancement to sports performance is to allow you to have more muscle, which means you have more force-generating capacity, more strength and greater endurance.

“The other aspect of this anabolism is that one of the proteins that it helps to synthesise is haemoglobin, which is found in your red blood cells, and haemoglobin’s job is to carry oxygen. Any highly aerobic sporting activity is potentially going to be benefitted by more haemoglobin, which could be due to more testosterone.”

So, in short, testosterone could potentially make you stronger and faster for longer. Which is why artificial enhancements, such as anabolic steroids, are banned in sport.

But there is no suggestion the testosterone levels found in Banda are anything but naturally occurring.

The most prominent and obvious case that will come to the mind of most people when hearing about Banda’s situation is that of Semenya, who has been barred from competing in her favoured 800m event (the event she has two Olympic and three World Championship gold medals in) since 2019, unless she first takes medication that lowers her testosterone levels, which she has refused to do. Recently, Semenya called leading figures in African athletics “cowards” for not fighting harder for competitors in her situation.

However, directly comparing Banda and Semenya is tricky, simply because not enough is publicly known about Banda’s condition to put them both in the same category. Their issues are both related to “differences in sexual development” tests and regulations but they could be different, so at this stage, it is probably wise not to make a direct comparison.

From its perspective, CAF will argue that it is simply trying to be fair, and trying to avoid a situation similar to the one that came to a head after the 2010 WAFCON when complaints were lodged against two Equatorial Guinea players who took part in that tournament.

After that, CAF introduced the regulations at the centre of this case.

The whole situation seems deeply unsatisfying, partly because it is so opaque, but also from a distance at least, it is inconsistent. A FAZ official, when contacted by The Athletic, bemoaned a situation where Banda and other athletes in her position could appear in some international competitions but not in others.

“The points we touch upon in our position is the inconsistency in these rules,” says Tim Harper, executive director of Equity Sport, a group that aims to advance equality in global sport and does much of its work in sub-Saharan Africa. “Banda was allowed to play in the Olympics and was celebrated throughout as a superstar, and now, a year later, she’s suddenly not allowed to even be on the pitch.”

Olympic rules in this area only apply to a select few sports, including the 400-metre, 800-metre and hammer throw. Football isn’t included, so Banda was allowed to play at the Games last summer, and did so brilliantly.

Equity Sport also points out that this is an issue which seems to disproportionately impact Black, sub-Saharan African women.

In addition to Banda and Semenya, recent examples include Christine Mboma and Beatrice Masilingi, two Namibian 400-metre runners who were banned from those same Tokyo Olympics.

“What we want to understand is whether this is a biological matter,” Harper says.

The short answer to which is: It might be.

Professor Hackney is at pains to point out that the vast majority of research into whether higher levels of testosterone naturally occur in Black athletes has been conducted on men, but: “If you look at just the male research, there is evidence to suggest very definitely that testosterone happens to be higher in African Americans, than in matched Caucasian white populations.

“The difference is consistent, it seems to be across age ranges, but it’s not a large magnitude of difference. It’s in the range of five per cent, maybe 10 per cent, so it’s not as if it’s astronomically higher. I would suspect it would also be true in women, but again, without the same body of evidence and literature, I couldn’t say Black women are always going to have higher testosterone levels.”

“It should concern all of us,” Harper says. “If it was happening to the England team, there would be even more of a global media storm about it.

“The question we have to ask ourselves is: Is this what we want sport to be?”

Again, it should be repeated that testosterone is not the sole marker in this case, although FAZ seems to think it forms a disproportionate part of the regulations.

“Many players can be affected by these regulations, and football is their livelihood,” FAZ communications director Sydney Mungala told ESPN. “I think the CAF regulations are a lot more stringent (than Olympic regulations), and they put too much stress on testosterone levels.”

But what of the woman at the centre of this latest episode?

It’s easy to forget that, although Banda has been part of the Zambia team for some time and was their captain, she is still just 22.

Banda grew up playing on the streets of capital city Lusaka, and her talent meant she became the first female Zambian footballer to play for a European club. She is a wildly popular member of the squad, and not just because she is their best player. A source close to Banda described her as “jovial” but also “a warrior”.

The source suggested she was coping as well as can be expected with her omission from the WAFCON squad, although there were concerns that the debate around her could adversely impact her mental state.

Even if she is unable to play for Zambia in Morocco, she has been present at their games and has posted her encouragement to the team on social media as they have progressed to the final four.

After each victory, she has tweeted messages of congratulations, all of which include a variant of “I am with you all the way”.

And “all the way” might not just be a turn of phrase, because Zambia — nicknamed The Copper Queens (copper mining is big business there) — have been exceptional so far. They were arguably the most eye-catching team in the group stage, easing into things with a 0-0 draw against Cameroon, then squeezing past Tunisia 1-0 with a stoppage-time winner before really cutting loose to defeat Togo 4-1.

With her direct, rapid running, Mapepa won a penalty after 47 seconds against Togo. That was missed by defender Lushomo Mweemba, but from that point Chanda took over, dictating the game from the No 10 position and helping herself to two goals. Another came from Ireen Lungu, architect of some remarkable passes elsewhere in the game (some have nicknamed her “Xavi”), who skimmed a 35-yard effort over the goalkeeper after the ball had broken to her.

Mapepa, who has described Banda as her “idol” and is wearing her No 11 shirt at the tournament, scored the pick of the goals late in the first half, shortly after Togo had made it 2-1; driving down the left flank, leaving defenders in her wake, she thrashed a finish into the roof of the net from an implausible angle. Then came their quarter-final against Senegal on Wednesday. It was a nervy affair, the tension raised by the fact that the teams knew victory would also earn them a World Cup spot (WAFCON doubles as African qualification for next summer’s global tournament in Australia and New Zealand), something neither side had previously achieved.

It went to penalties, and in what can only be described as “quite the flex”, goalkeeper Hazel Nali stepped up to take Zambia’s fifth kick. Into the top corner it went and Zambia were through — to the semis, and to their first ever World Cup. Whether Banda will be there with them is another question entirely.

Even given her absence on the field, Banda was with the team off it. She was there in the dressing room after that shootout victory in Casablanca, wearing a team tracksuit and a shirt with the number 23 (remember, Zambia only named 22 players in their squad when 26 are permitted) on it, leading her team-mates in celebratory song.

“This was for Barbra Bandaaaaaaaaaa!!!!” yelled Nali as the whole squad celebrated.

“We still missed them,” said Zambia coach Bruce Mwape after the Togo game, when asked about the missing players. “They are part of our team.”

Zambia could be on the verge of doing something extraordinary.

It’s just profoundly sad that Banda won’t be on the pitch to do it with them.

https://www.nytimes.com/athletic/3426458/2022/07/18/barbra-banda-womens-football/

#rmsoccer

[broadcastbabe]

It isn’t really meant to be a recruitment occasion for our little swingers enclave, but if we stir some interest among the uninitiated… so much the better. I have my eye on a promising young couple or two, that have been flirting with me throughout the main course. I’m accustomed to come ons and respond in a bewitching manner that amplifies their interest. You are more straight forward, speaking in hushed tones about my appetites and unique insatiability, upselling my oral preferences to the husbands and my thirsts to the wives. Most are tipsy and aroused enough to make some impulsive leaps that will pay off for all concerned. Your gracious rustling of potentials leaves me to look alluring… and forward to the impending adventures. Tonight we serve dessert after various seeds have been planted with the most likely to succumb. The music is turned up to prompt an impromptu tango between us while syrupy sweets are consumed. As you sashay me around the lengthy dinner table, you tell a story about how we met on a dance floor in Morocco, intimating it ended with a horizontal evening that became a week of never leaving your hotel room. As we slide past our mesmerized guests, you slowly drag the zipper down the back of my dress to up the ante. Leaving the clasp at the top allows your hands to caress the soft skin of my sloping back and reach beneath the fabric to bring forth my lusty gasps. The dance continues to assure that everyone is able to view the real time seduction and confirm my lack of lingerie. The zipper continues its descent with the help of my undulating hips to expose the cleave of fine derriere. There are helpless whimpers from a few, but the others are silent and calculating their next incentivized move. You dip me to showcase my flexibility and my response to your nuzzling kisses at my throat and shoulders. There is appreciative applause when we finish with a flourish. I walk slowly away toward a staircase that leads to an upstairs bedroom, making meaningful eye contact with my awestruck admirers. You suggest there is plenty of wine and food  to indulge in while you slip away to … indulge yourself. Upon your lingering exit, you whisper to a few couples implying an invitation to join us. Watches are checked to stagger the visits and I offer longing looks from the staircase in slow motion. Having laid the groundwork earlier, there are nods and smiles from those that had already decided this is not to be missed. I’m also aware there is a lone man at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the wag of my bare plump rump. I lick my lips and crook my finger to beckon him upwards, then glance your way to encourage you as well. Feeling a flush between my thighs, I shiver with a dizzy arousal as the best part of the evening is about to begin.

[tracesberberes]

Visit Morocco: Family-Friendly Adventures

Morocco, a land of vibrant colors, bustling souks, and ancient wonders, isn’t just for intrepid solo travelers or romantic couples. It’s a fantastic destination for families too! With its mix of cultural immersion, outdoor adventures, and kid-friendly attractions, Morocco promises an unforgettable vacation for all ages. Let’s dive into some exciting activities and destinations that will have your whole family saying, “Let’s visit Morocco again!”

Camel Trekking in the Sahara Desert: A Childhood Dream Come True When You Visit Morocco

Imagine the wide eyes of your kids as they climb atop a gentle camel, ready to embark on a desert trek. The vastness of the Sahara, with its rolling dunes and golden sands, is a sight that will ignite their imagination. As you sway rhythmically with the camel’s gait, share stories of nomadic life and gaze at the breathtaking sunset painting the sky in vibrant hues. It’s an experience that will create lasting memories for your family when they visit Morocco.

Exploring Marrakesh’s Enchanting Jemaa el-Fnaa: A Sensory Overload for the Whole Family

Marrakesh’s famous square, Jemaa el-Fnaa, is a whirlwind of activity that will captivate young and old alike. Snake charmers, storytellers, acrobats, and musicians fill the square, creating a lively atmosphere that’s both exciting and slightly chaotic. Wander through the stalls selling traditional crafts, sample delicious street food, and let your kids try their hand at henna art. The energy of Jemaa el-Fnaa is contagious and will leave your family buzzing with excitement during your visit to Morocco.

Getting Lost in the Medina of Fez: An Urban Adventure in Morocco

The medina of Fez, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a labyrinth of narrow alleyways, hidden courtyards, and ancient architecture. With its maze-like streets, it’s easy to get lost, but that’s part of the fun! Encourage your kids to embrace the adventure, discover hidden gems, and marvel at the intricate details of the buildings. Don’t miss the tanneries, where leather is dyed in vibrant colors using traditional methods. It’s a unique experience that will spark curiosity and conversation during your visit to Morocco.

Relaxing on the Beaches of Essaouira: Fun in the Sun for Everyone

After days of exploring, unwind on the beautiful beaches of Essaouira. With its long stretches of golden sand, gentle waves, and refreshing Atlantic breezes, it’s the perfect place to relax and recharge. Let your kids build sandcastles, fly kites, or try their hand at surfing. The laid-back atmosphere of Essaouira will soothe your soul and create a sense of calm after the hustle and bustle of the cities.

Discovering the Magic of Chefchaouen: A Blue Wonderland to Visit in Morocco

Nestled in the Rif Mountains, Chefchaouen is a charming town painted entirely in shades of blue. Its narrow streets, adorned with colorful flowers and intricate doorways, create a fairytale-like setting that will delight your kids. Explore the medina, visit the Kasbah museum, and hike to the Spanish Mosque for panoramic views of the town and surrounding countryside. The magic of Chefchaouen will leave a lasting impression on your family when you visit Morocco.

Embracing Nature in the Ourika Valley: A Breath of Fresh Air When You Visit Morocco

Escape the city and immerse yourselves in the natural beauty of the Ourika Valley. With its lush greenery, cascading waterfalls, and traditional Berber villages, it’s a refreshing change of pace. Hike along the river, visit a local market, and enjoy a traditional Berber meal in a family home. The Ourika Valley offers a glimpse into rural Moroccan life and provides opportunities for outdoor adventures and cultural immersion during your visit to Morocco.

Morocco is a destination that caters to all ages, with its mix of cultural experiences, outdoor adventures, and family-friendly attractions. Whether you’re exploring ancient cities, trekking through the desert, or relaxing on the beach, Morocco will create memories that your family will cherish for a lifetime. So, pack your bags, grab your kids, and embark on an unforgettable journey to this captivating country!

[cherubcameron]

Love Espresso

Chapter six: Blue

MASTERLIST

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Synopsis: after her breakup with Rafe and him kicking her out. Her best friend offers her a new job and a place to stay. But when Rafe comes back from Morocco. He realizes he’d made a grave mistake. Will Sofia go back to him? Or will she decide that her new life means more to her than him?

Author’s note: thought I was going to make this longer than it was. So sorry for the wait! Just changed the name of this chapter from tethered to blue. But blue as in the Kali Uchis song and not the Billie eilish one.

Sofia didn’t know what to say to Liliana when she got home. She stood at the door, unsure if she should allow herself in. She could hear faint sounds of Liliana padding around the room. The faucet turning on, running down the sink. But still, Sofia couldn’t find it in her to move. They didn’t have a bad fight, but it did make things awkward. They spoke to each other as they work as if they were just people worked together. Not best friends of five years. She didn’t know what she was going to enter too.

A memory slowly resurfaces.

A couple months back before Rafe came back from Morocco

Sofia stared down at her food, Liliana and Catalina are sitting in front of her. Catalina chewing away at her food, while Liliana takes a sip of her drink. —Sofia picked up her fork and stabbed into her pasta. Trying to will herself to eat the food her friend made. She took a small bite into it. Trying to process the food before letting it go down.

“So.. uh… I’m glad I could be here for you right now.” Catalina said. Dropping her fork down on her plate. “I can’t believe he did that to you.” Catalina was a lot more sympathetic than Sofia had given her credit for. Sofia felt the lump in her throat growing. Feeling like it would swallow her whole if she didn’t get the words out.

“Thank you… you can say I told—

Catalina cuts her off, “Absolutely not, he… he’s a piece of shit for what he did. I have no right to throw anything in your face right now.”

Liliana looked between them. Her eyes not betraying what she was feeling.

Sofia looked back at the pasta that Catalina had made. “I did this to myself. Like I always do. I-I fuck things up and—

“Sof, you thought irrationally to the words he said to you. He made it out to be like he’d never be with a pogue. That what the two of you had for two years, was nothing.” Liliana says, finally speaking up.

Sofia let a tear slip down her face. She knew they were right. She’d given Rafe her all. Pushing everyone away because that’s what happened when you dated someone like Rafe. He demanded all your attention. Once he had a lick of someone giving him unconditional love, he licked it up like it was all he was ever going to get. Making you utterly consumed by him. Everyone else be damned.

“I’m-I’m so sorry.” Sofia says, her voice cracking. Her eyes casted down, no longer having the strength to stare at her friends.

“Hey, we’re here.. okay.” Catalina placed her hand over Sofias. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Sofia sighed, pushing the door open. Liliana looked up, then immediately bringing her eyes back down onto the table. Awkwardness surrounded them, finally Sofia spoke.

“I’m sorry.” She said, it sounded weak to her own ears. She didn’t like feeling this way. Feeling like it was her against Liliana. They’d been friends for only five years and yet, it felt like she’d known Liliana her whole life. She didn’t want to lose that.

Liliana let out a sigh, a tear escaping from her eyes. “You don’t have to be.”

Sofia’s own face crumbled, “I know you just want to protect me. I understand why you did what you did. I do. And I don’t want our friendship to sour over something as stupid as a boy.”

Both girls ran to each others arms, holding on to each other tight. Not letting the other go.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Sofia cries into her friends arm. Liliana held her friend closer to her. Holding her tightly.

“It’s okay, I promise. It’s okay.” Sofia shook her head, she was selfish. She was the one who hurt people all the time. She should be sorry.

Liliana kissed Sofias forehead, rubbing her back in circles. Sofia kept shaking her head.

“I’m-I’m not good Liliana. All I do is mess everything up.” Sofia licked her lips,she tasted her tears. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been crying.

“Hey, that’s so not true. Don’t say that about yourself. You are the kindest, most loving and caring person I know. Cometiste un error. Nadie puede culparte por eso.” (You made a mistake. No one blames you for it)

Sofia rubbed at her eyes, “Todavía fue culpa mía.” (Still, it was my fault.) Sofia wants to cry again and she hates how the tears are coming through. Unrelenting, this is showing up emotions she thought she’d buried. Her feelings for Rafe, her platonic feelings for her friend, and the feelings she’s felt from being abandoned. “Why did he decide to come back?” She asks hoarsely. “He should hate me. Run away from me. He shouldn’t want me after what I did.”

Liliana looks at her friend sympathetically. A sad smile appears on her face. “Maybe because… he does love you. Just has an awful shit way of showing it. I don’t really know Sof. You were with him more. I still don’t understand why he did what he did. And I don’t appreciate him just appearing again. Just like that.”

The two girls are sat on the couch, holding onto each other. Sofia looks down at the coffee table. The silence engulfs them for a while.

“Maybe…he does.”

The moment Rafe and Sarah had gotten home from the grocery store. Rafe slid out the car, slamming the car door angrily. He headed in without even a glance at Sarah. His footsteps against the walkway, loud and harsh.

“Rafe! Hold on!” Sarah yelled after him. She slid out more carefully. Worried about her baby. It clicks in his head… he stops. He lets out a shallow breath, heading back to help Sarah out of the car.

“M’sorry.” He grabs Sarah’s arm as delicately as he can. He has never been a delicate man… not since…

“Rafe?” Sarah asks him, he can’t help but break down. He sobs into her chest. He can feel his legs wobble. He tries his best not to. Doesn’t want to hurt Sarah or the baby.

“Oh Rafe.” Sarah hugs him tightly. His grip on her tightens. Using her arm as a life line. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever make things between him and Sofia better. She’d only said one thing to him and he crumbled under the weight of it.

“She’s never going to forgive me.” His voice is hoarse, his words coming out harshly. Almost afraid of slipping out, of showing vulnerability. But they slipped out anyway. Pain was like that, it demanded an audience. It depended your full attention. And Rafe’s heart clenched, he finally let go of Sarah.

“She’s hurt right now. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. I know—

“How?! How do you know?! How do we know she’ll come back to me!” Rafe cried. Sarah flinched at his tone but doesn’t waver. Didn’t back away from him.

She’s learned how to handle when he’s like this. Before he knew she would run when he did. But for some reason, now she stays. He doesn’t know why. Doesn’t know when she decided he was worth caring for.

“Because I’ve been in her place before. I can tell she loves you.” Rafe shook his head, his head in his hands.

“No, Sarah. She’s never going to forgive me. That—she’s obviously done with me.” He rubbed his head, trying to find some comfort in himself. But he felt tortured by what Sofia had said.

“Fuck you.”

It played over and over in his head. Like his brain was mocking him. Trying to get a raise out of him.

“You just need to calm down, okay?”Sarah says, grabbing him by the arm. “Come on, let me make mom’s special tea. The one.. I know we’ve been butchering for years now.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? I was an awful brother to you. I don’t deserve your kindness.” Rafe rubbed at his nose, his eyes ahead as he walked alongside Sarah. “Just leave me here, it’s what I deserve.”

Sarah stops walking. “Don’t.”

“What?” Rafe asks, confused.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say that. It’s your way of trying to push people away. And we’re not doing that anymore, Rafe. We’re not going down that road. I chose you. Wheezie chose you. Heck, even John B chose you. Stop pushing people who want to stay in your life. We’re not going anywhere.”

With that, the Cameron siblings walk back into Rafe’s house quietly. Rafe contemplating the words Sarah had just uttered. She was right, it wasn’t something that he was used to. He always felt like he had to earn people’s love. To gain it. With Sofia, it hadn’t felt that way at all. He felt her love like it was simple as breathing.

He didn’t realize he could manage to make the people he hurt feel the same. He doesn’t know how he did it. Doesn’t know how he was able to. But he’s glad he finally has a true support system. Outside of whatever he had with Sofia and it made him realize something else.

He was going to fight for his relationship with Sofia. If it was the last thing he had to do.

Sofia had been working, her eyes focused on the task at hand. She hadn’t looked up at the big window in front of her. Her eyes glued to the rag in her hand and the table she was wiping down. She heard the sound of the doorbell chime of the door.

“Hey, are you Sofia Jimenez?” Said the delivery man. Sofia looked up with crinkled brows.

“Uh yeah, I’m Sofia.” Sofia placed the rag on the table so she could properly give her attention to the delivery man. He was different than the usual one she’d seen come in here.

The delivery man nodded, “Just need you to sign here.”

A part of her should have turned him away. She was slowly starting to realize this wasn’t a normal delivery. It was a Tuesday, the shop usually got their things delivered on a Wednesday.

Once she signed, he left the shop. Then came back fifteen minutes later. With rows upon rows of flower bouquets. Sofias mouth open wide. Before she knew it, the coffee shop was filled with flowers.

“Thought this was a coffee shop. Not a damn flower shop.” A grumpy customer said. Sofia could open stare agape at the customer before turning to look at Liliana. Whose eyes widen. Sofia gently took off the flower shop card.

“Whoever send you these, must really love you.” Another customer, a woman says.

Liliana and Sofia only stare at each other. Sofia allows Liliana to read the note.

“Gotta give it to the guy, he knows how to do an apology right. Only thing now is… will you go talk to him?” Liliana asks.

Sofia feels a storm of emotions consume her at once. She’s not sure what her next steps should be. She could only stare at all the peony and lilies scattered around. Her favorites.

Song Sofia is listening to

Song Rafe is listening to

Song Liliana plays to cheer Sofia up (flashback)

Taglist @percysley

[eretzyisrael]

Muslim Africans nearly all reached the Jewish state by land. The influx began in 2006, apparently due to some Egyptian smugglers helping a few hundred Africans enter Israel and the Israeli government treating them leniently. As word got back to Egypt and more distant parts of the continent, larger numbers followed. Journalist Uriel Heilman in 2009 captured the motives of Africans living in Egypt:

On one side lies peril and poverty — crowded refugee camps, scarce jobs, and overzealous Egyptian soldiers ready to open fire on anyone trying to flee to Israel. ... On the other side lies relative prosperity and protection — a westernized country, a more sympathetic government, and a broad array of refugee services including, in some cases, jobs. "It's good. I love Israel. There's good people here," said Emanuel, a 16-year-old Sudanese boy who made it safely across. ... Emanuel sleeps on a clean bed, gets three meals a day, and occasionally gets taken to swimming pools, summer camps, and nature excursions.

Ibrahim, originally from Guinea, was taken to Israel by traffickers but escaped. After an Israeli couple became his guardians, he became a citizen and joined the IDF.As this semi-good life in Israel, with its chocolate, juice, and handcuffs, became known, human trafficking followed. Ibrahim, an orphan from Labé, Guinea, in West Africa recounts how, when he was 15 years old in 2006, the owner of the electrical shop where he worked regaled him with tales of wealth in Israel and offered to pay for his travel in return for half of Ibrahim's earnings for life. Ibrahim accepted this offer of indentured servitude and soon found himself taken as a captive on the 13-day land journey from Guinea to Morocco to Egypt to Eilat to Tel Aviv. In Tel Aviv, the traffickers took him to the central bus station but his intended employer did not show up, permitting Ibrahim to escape. After various adventures – washing pots in a restaurant, living in a refuge for homeless youngsters, studying at a school for at-risk children, spending time in a prison – an Israeli couple offered to serve as his legal guardian, opening the door for him to finish his education, become an Israeli citizen, change his name to Avi Be'eri, join the Israel Defense Forces in 2011 as an officer, and consider converting to Judaism.

[thecapturedafrique]

HLAW: Day 5—Hana(ra)’s Perfect Wedding!

Like several members of the fandom, I too ship Hana and Kiara together, and though I have yet to write the fic where they fall in love, I’ve long since come up list of head canons about their wedding. I originally meant to share this for Kiara’s first appreciation week, but I wasn’t able to finish on time. Fortunately, one of the benefits to being a Hanara shipper is that their romantic content can work for both characters’ weeks! 😆

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek and the stupendous hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

This moodboard was designed to reflect the Pinboard that Hana would 100% make for her wedding to Kiara given the numerous ones she’s crafted in canon.

Bridal Ring Sets

The ring on the left is the one Hana chooses for Kiara; I initially searched for a ring similar to Hana's ring for MC in canon but didn't want a one-to-one match, and then I diverged further by selecting one with a vine design to reference Castelsareillan (aka Rowan’s tattoos which I head canon were tribal in nature and design). The side stones are diamonds since they’re both the ducal stone and Kiki’s birthstone, but Hana went with moissanite for the central stone since it's not as hard and refracts more multi-colored light, representing how there's more to Kiara than what the surface may show and that she is a lot more kind and sweet and thoughtful than her tough facade leads people to expect.

For the ring Kiara gives to Hana*, resetting a family heirloom is very popular in France, especially with traditional affluent families. The ruby was originally from her late maternal grandmother’s engagement ring, and Kiara had it reset in a rose gold band to match her own since Hana proposed first. Due to the canonical Cordonian tradition of lovers throwing a copper, a silver, and a gold coin into a well to guarantee that they stay together for eternity, I head canon that rose gold—which is made of those three metals—is a popular choice in Cordonia for engagement/anniversary jewelry. The wedding band is inlaid with opals since they're the ducal stone of Hana’s duchy, Chrysopolis.

*I was also partly inspired by @masked-alien-lesbian’s beautiful pick to find a more floral design than my original choice, and when I found one with embellishments that mirrored butterflies as well, I knew it was the one.

Bridal Party

In Chinese numerology, 8 is considered one of the most auspicious numbers, with 2, 3, and 6 also being lucky in general. As such, the bridal party is a total of 6 people (3 for each side) who combined with the 2 brides equal 8 in total.

Hana's Bridesmaids: Ally (MOH), Olivia, and Ganga

In my version of events, Olivia actually does offer a genuine apology to Hana in the beer garden scene at the end of TRR2, and so by the time Hana’s planning her wedding, the two have grown close enough for her to ask Liv to be her bridesmaid.

The name Ganga may be familiar to anyone who read Hana’s character page, as she’s one of Hana’s second cousins on her mother’s side. They meet and bond over the course of my reimagined TRH series Silver Spoons.

Kiara's Témoins: Penelope (MOH), Zeke, and Savannah

Instead of bridesmaids and groomsmen, French couples have témoins (witnesses) of any gender/age that stand next to them during the ceremonies. While Penelope is still courteously given the MOH title, Ally is the one who provides the most support in regard to the planning/corralling.

Wedding

Following Moroccan and Chinese traditions, the wedding celebration is several days long. I also head canon that many western regions of Cordonia outside of the five major duchies have three-day-length celebrations, including the regality from which Hana’s maternal family hails. The negafa (wedding planner) is Kiki’s paternal aunt Leïla, who is assisted by Hana’s own aunt Yawen.

Day 1: Castelsareillan

Hammam

In Morocco on the first day of a wedding celebration, the bride spends a day in the hammam (a type of steam bath or place of public bathing akin to a spa) with her companions, treating themselves with multiple body masks, scrubs, and massages as part of a bridal ritual of purification and beauty. Hanara chooses the baths and spa in Applewood visited in TRR2 and attend with their bridal party sans Zeke.

Bachelorette Party

Their joint party is thrown in Côte d'Or, the Cordonian gambling district visited in RoE which in my verse is located in one of Castelsareillan’s vassalages off the coast. Aside from the standard night on the town events, Ally also arranges a series of chuangmen (Chinese door games) for the couple to play: an alcoholic version of the Four Flavors of Life, Q&A Tests, and a Sweet Serenade karaoke session.

The theme is a rainbow, with everyone wearing a different colored dress: Ally in red, Ganga in orange, Kiara in yellow gold, Olivia in green, Penelope in blue, Savannah in purple, and Hana in pink. All of the bridesmaids wear the same cap-sleeved sequined style, while the brides’ outfits are pictured below:

Day 2: Samsara

Henna Party

Both Morocco and India have wedding traditions involving decorating the bride’s hands and feet with henna (mehndi being the South Asian term for the body art itself). Lorelai’s cousin Aparna offers her estate in Samsara (a western regality in Cordonia) as the venue, and the party is a long affair filled with food and music.

Hana wears a pink sari while Kiki dons a green kaftan. Since the brides plan to walk down the aisle the next day, they’re carried to their seats in the amaria (an elegant roofed platform) by four men: Zeke, Drake, Bertrand, and the male cousin Kiara mentions in TRR3 who I named Patrice and head canon is Joëlle’s nephew.

Having forgone a wedding shower, the brides open their gifts during the party, some of which revolve around the traditional “something old” rhyme (with the givers corresponding to whose side they walk on):

Something Old: received during the tea ceremony

Something New: white lotus hair stick (Ally), silver and onyx Berber necklace (Zeke)

Something Borrowed: Scarlet Handkerchief (Liv), Golden Tiara* (Penelope)

Something Blue: garter set (Savannah), nagapadam mala (Ganga)

*The Golden Tiara is the House treasure that was granted to the Amaranth’s when they were elevated in 1600 C.E. It was rumored that while donned, the makeup of any who wore it would remain flawless.

Rehearsal Dinner

The ribbons and bows from unwrapping the gifts are turned into two giant bouquets that the brides use for the following wedding rehearsal in place of the garlands they’ll be using for the real ceremony. They also incorporate some elements of the nischayam, an Indian Malayalee engagement ceremony generally held to formally announce the marriage, which includes exchanging horoscopes as well as the mothiram maattal (ring exchange). Since pigs are favored animals in Chinese culture, Kiara’s pet teacup pig Tambour acts as the ring bearer. At the end of the rehearsal dinner, the couple signs their marriage license following both French and Moroccan tradition (the latter of which call this ceremony Drib Sdak).

Day 3: Chrysopolis

Shutou & Jing Cha

The morning of the third and final wedding day begins in Hana’s manor in Chrysopolis with the Chinese shutou or hair combing ceremony performed by their mothers Lorelai and Joëlle. Immediately afterwards, the two change into their traditional formal wear (Hana in a qungua and Kiara in a takshita) before heading downstairs for the jing cha or tea ceremony, where their aunts have built an ancestral altar for the occasion.

The ceremony is done with both families at the same time, and in return for the tea that the couple offer, their families offer them golden jewelry and red envelopes filled with money called hongbao. They also receive from their fathers the “something old” gift that’s been passed down by their late grandmothers: a set of golden phoenix & dragon bangles for Hana and silver Berber bracelets for Kiara.

Vow Exchange

The exchanging of vows takes place outside in the sunflower garden. Kiki’s four-year-old cousin mentioned in TRH2 serves as the flower girl, and the bridal party are all dressed in a reddish mulberry and adorned with golden jewelry*. The brides change into their white outfits (Hana wearing the same dress as in canon and a veil, while Kiara dons a jumpsuit with a cape) and walk down the T-shaped aisle on the arms of their fathers to meet each other.

Hakim place Kiara’s hand in Hana’s and Xinghai hands them a pair of scissors before leaving the two to continue their march together. In a slightly altered French tradition, they must cut through the rows of white ribbons stretched across the aisle to reach the dais, where they exchange a set of garlands made from roses, fire lilies, jasmine, sunflowers, and Vescovi (magic) flowers in the Hindi jayamala ceremony, a pledge which substitutes their “I Do’s.”

Liam acts as the officiant and joins the couple’s hands together following the Agni Hito tradition of using a red string to represent their fates being bound. He hands them each a lambatha (Greek taper candle) to hold as the brides recite their individual customized vows to one another. They then use the lambathes to light a brazier filled with Heartoak wood which is placed before them.

This functions as the sacred fire for the saat phere, a Hindu wedding ritual continued by the Agni Hito where the couple walks around the fire seven times while reciting specific vows. Each circuit holds a certain meaning. Once the seventh one has been completed, Liam pronounces the two wives, and butterflies are released as they share their first kiss as a married couple.

*One of the bridal party’s statement pieces is a golden pin in the design of Hanara’s onnamon, pictured below. Mon are Japanese emblems that function similar to heraldic charges, and onnamon specifically are created by women after marriage through modifying her original family kamon. The Agni Hito, being of Japanese lineage, continued to use them within Cordonia. After becoming the Duchess of Chrysopolis, Hana adopted a new mon by turning her mother’s kamon/charge (the cherry blossom) into a butterfly-shape.

Reception

The rice toss is performed while the newlyweds exit down the aisle before everyone heads inside, where the vin d’honour (the French equivalent of a cocktail hour) is held. Kir Royale cocktails made with Cristal champagne and chocolate-coated almonds called les dragées are served, and both mahjong and mancala are played. Once all of the ~200 attendees have been greeted, they drive to the banquet hall with a liberal use of horns preceding the “just married” limo.

Each guest upon their arrival signs the livre des visiteurs (guestbook), delivers their hongbao, touches a set of oranges for good luck, and washes their hands in the orange blossom water. Ouzo and Moroccan mint tea are offered until everyone has been seated for the grand entrance, where under a shower of petals and sparklers, the newlyweds perform a TRR 2.0 Olivia-style change into their reception dresses pictured below (Hana on the left and Kiara on the right):

Thanks to @lizzybeth1986 for sharing the tumblr post with these lovely designs!

They step onto the floor with their fathers for the first dance, which they finish as a couple following French tradition. The song is one that Hana composed titled Le jardin de l'amour and performed by Kaitlyn Liao. The feast itself is a ten-course affair that contains a vast variety of cultural dishes, including drunken shrimp, butter chicken, Peking duck, pork jiaozi, tangine, bird’s nest soup, and seffa. Maxwell serves as the emcee, and toasts are given in between the various acts.

Friends provide most of the entertainment, including a ballad sung by the Cordonian Quartet, but there are also lion dancers and firecrackers following Chinese tradition. Halfway through, the couple changes into their final outfits for the night (a red qipao for Hana and a kaftan jumpsuit for Kiara). Once the last course has been served, the croquembouche (a French dessert that serves as the wedding cake) is wheeled out along with a Cordonian Ruby for the apple-cutting ceremony.

After feeding each other a slice of both, the dancing begins. The party lasts long into the night, but just before the newlyweds retire for the evening, they take part in another French tradition: eating a dish from a brand new pot de chambre (chamber pot). The bottom is lined by bananas and covered with melted chocolate before the leftover alcohol from the wedding is poured in. After the couple’s takes a drink and eats a spoonful of the gooey contents, the rest is left to be finished off by the bridal party.

Honeymoon

Lorelai’s wedding gift is the most expensive home in China, and it is here in Shanghai where Hana and Kiara spend the first week of their honeymoon, which ends with the Mid-Autumn Festival. The second week is spent in Tours, France where they go cycling and visit the famous châteaus before returning to Cordonia just in time for the Last Apple Ball.

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Sources

[mchiti]

"also african footballers with eu passports struggle greatly but that's for another post i guess"

I would love to know your opinions on this because I know moroccans are very disappointed with the way moroccan players haven't had any good transfer so far 😭

as we should anon loool oh essentially a couple of reasons?

good/powerful agents usually go with players of certain nationalities that are rated more lol no, truly, it's not just me saying this, literally everyone does

one of the reasons agents don't put up with african players (regardless if they have double passport or not) is the african cup really. And one of the main concern of napoli fans regarding the rumour of hakim going there is: "he'll be gone for a whole month in january" - if you already have osimhen who's going you know, you're going to take that into account sadly lol.

What do we do with afcon then? move it in summer with not ideal weather conditions like we did in 2019 so we accomodate managers' worries? or do it every 4 years so we accomodate europe? cause it's always africa that have to accomodate everyone else isn't it. Players do struggle greatly because of it and I don't think that's taken much into consideration lol Which I guess it really puts their decision to choose Africa into the right context and discourse, because it's not an easy choice, it's a risk for anyone's career and it deserves the love it deserves when they do choose for it.

Also I don't know if you have seen that interview of saiss that explained why he left besiktas. He literally had a fall out with the manager because he played in the wc though not in ideal physical conditions and one can wonder - and I do wonder - if the same manager would have get pissed if it wasn't morocco but any other "more rated" national team. because brozovic also played not in the best shape and was out two months after that but it's not like inter said anything lol. Also Saiss said he literally had no other offers from europe last year so

You'd think after that world cup they did they would have been rated more and find better opportunities but what can we do.

[advokatus]

Alois has spent an absurd quantity of money on his house design. There isn't a room he isn't absolutely obsessed with, and yes, he's that old lady who has pots to cook, pots for special occasions; plates for every day use, and plates for special occasions. He can't leave the house without making the bed first and putting about 3 different pairs of pillows back into it.

He would suffer deeply if something in his house gets damaged or broken, especially if it's the kitchen counter or living room furniture since they were all done by famous fashion designers, which makes those areas unique in the world.

Ikea? He hasn't heard that name in years. And, please, don't get me started with the Christmas season. He ADORES it and yes, he has gold adornments for the tree.

He has one maid who cleans twice a week, and, okay, fine, saying he would kill for him is a low standard considering who Alois is, but he would protect him at all costs. Dominicus is an Italian migrant living in Germany, he got his visa and citizenship thanks to Alois. This is, perhaps, their most codependent relationship. They've gotten drunk together a couple of times and they end up hugging to the verge of tears because they are wondering what life would be like if one of them happens to die.

Dominicus isn't just a maid, he's Alois' assistant. Yes, they met in Morocco and shared the same trauma. Dominicus decided to give up his career as a journalist and when Alois heard of this, he couldn't accept it. Alois believes Dominicus is the most talented writer he's ever met, and couldn't tolerate the idea of such talent going to waste. Therefore, when his magazine began to rise, he brought Dominicus from Italy, but the man didn't wish for the life Alois was offering him as head director. After a lot of negotiations, a lot of brawls, Dominicus became Alois right hand.

Everyone in the office believes they are an item. They aren't romantically involved, but they would go through heaven and hell for each other. There isn't a single thing that could split these two men apart. Alois believes Dominicus doesn't know about his murders, but he does know, and has never mentioned a thing, and never will.