#Defense World Staff

[biglisbonnews]

EDP – Energias de Portugal (OTCMKTS:ELCPF) Stock Price Up 1.2% EDP – Energias de Portugal, S.A. (OTCMKTS:ELCPF – Get Free Report) rose 1.2% during mid-day trading on Friday . The stock traded as high as $4.62 and last traded at $4.50. Approximately 12,083 shares were traded during mid-day trading, an increase of 251% from the average daily volume of 3,439 shares. The stock had previously […] https://www.defenseworld.net/2023/09/16/edp-energias-de-portugal-otcmktselcpf-stock-price-up-1-2.html

[deadpresidents]

"What emerged in two interviews with Trump, and conversations with more than a dozen of his closest advisers and confidants, were the outlines of an imperial presidency that would reshape America and its role in the world. To carry out a deportation operation designed to remove more than 11 millions people from the country, Trump told me, he would be willing to build migrant detention camps and deploy the U.S. military, both at the border and inland. He would let red states monitor women's pregnancies and prosecute those who violate abortion bans. He would, at his personal discretion, withhold funds appropriated by Congress, according to top advisers. He would be willing to fire a U.S. Attorney who doesn't carry out his order to prosecute someone, breaking with a tradition of independent law enforcement that dates from America's founding. He is weighing pardons for every one of his supporters accused of attacking the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, more than 800 of whom have pleaded guilty or been convicted by a jury. He might not come to the aid of an attacked ally in Europe or Asia if he felt that country wasn't paying enough for its own defense. He would gut the U.S. civil service, deploy the National Guard to American cities as he sees fit, close the White House pandemic-preparedness office, and staff his Administration with acolytes who back his false assertion that the 2020 election was stolen."

-- "How Far Would He Go", TIME Magazine's interviews with Donald Trump, April 30, 2024.

I know we're saturated in coverage of Trump and it's easy (and probably better for our mental health) to usually ignore most of the articles when we see them, especially since he's so full of shit and infuriating. But it's also important to recognize that he is going to be the Republican nominee for President and he could absolutely be elected in November, and if you thought his first term was scary and dangerous, you need to understand that in a second term he's going to have people around him that are better prepared and VERY willing to do the crazy shit that he wants to do to this country. They aren't even hiding the fact that they are seeking vengeance against political opponents whom they feel have wronged them, and are ready to fundamentally dismantle the democratic foundations that are barely holding this country together after nearly 250 years.

Just look at what Trump says about the people who he incited to attack the United States Capitol in an attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election and halt the peaceful transfer of power that has happened every four years since 1789:

"Trump has sought to recast an insurrectionist riot as an act of patriotism. 'I call them the J-6 patriots,' he say. When I ask whether he would consider pardoning every one of them, he says, 'Yes, absolutely.' As Trump faces dozens of felony charges, including for election interference, conspiracy to defraud the United States, willful retention of national-security secrets, and falsifying business records to conceal hush-money payments, he has tried to turn legal peril into a badge of honor."

Oh, and please note that Trump -- a former President of the United States and possible future President of the United States -- said on the record in these interviews with TIME: "There is a definite antiwhite feeling in the country and that can't be allowed either." We are at a point where political leaders are outright saying that in this country again, and it's because of Donald Trump.

So, take the time to recognize that Trump is straight-up telling us the country we're going to be living in if he wins again in November. And understand that your vote matters -- and WHO you vote for matters -- because, as I've been saying for years now, ELECTIONS HAVE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES.

[luveline]

Oooooo carmy request: him being jealous of readers friendship w richie cos they re like buddys and he thinks she doesn't like him cos shes not like that w him

—you realise what Carmy wants from you. fem, 1.4k

Richie isn’t technically an upstanding citizen, but he’s a good guy. 

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you just need to be more aggressive.” 

You’re sitting on a stool behind the counter filling the ketchup and mayonnaise bottles with the huge ones from the walk-in. Richie isn’t doing much of anything, which is fine by you; he’s good entertainment for a shitty job. 

“I don’t want to be more aggressive, I want people to be nicer.” 

“We don’t get what we want,” he mutters. 

You frown expressively. “Aw, baby, we don’t get what we want. You don’t get what you want, huh?” 

“What’s your problem?” he asks, though he laughs brightly. “You’re the fucking baby. You’re not doing that right.” 

You point at your extremely slow drip of ketchup. “No, you think? I know I’m doing it wrong, Richie. Doing it right is a lot of arm effort. Have you seen my arms?” 

“You’ve got muscle.” Richie lifts your arm up by the wrist. “Flex. Flex your arm.” 

“I’m flexing. You can’t see that?” 

“What are you guys doing?” Carmy asks. 

He comes up behind Richie and they’re almost twins. Not in appearance —Carmy’s lighter facially and broader physically— but in stance, their mussed up aprons and the rags on their shoulders a uniform. 

You flex. “Weight training.” 

Richie drops your arm. “I’m showing her how to fill the sauce bottles.” 

“And you didn’t know how to do that?” Carmy asks you. 

“I’m the one that taught Richie.” You absolutely didn’t teach Richie how to do it, that much is obvious. Richie laughs heartily, and Carmy frowns, and you realise that Richie thinks you’re both laughing at Carmy, which isn’t what was happening. Not totally. 

It’s hard to navigate The Beef without Mikey; Carmy is nothing like his brother, and Richie’s an asshole. 

Carmy nods at you. You’re worried his lip is gonna curl like it does when he’s mad and you’re gonna get told to do something you’re uninterested in, but it’s Richie who gets punished. “Can you finish Sydney’s prep?” 

“Why can’t she do it?” 

“Her stomach thing. It’s just onions.” 

Richie wants to argue, but can’t. He’s paid a wage to work. “Fine. But tell Syd I’m not her gopher.” 

Richie saunters away. 

“He’s not her gopher,” you tease when he’s out of earshot, to Carmy’s surprised delight. “God, Carm, don’t you know anything?” 

Your Richie impression isn’t your best. Carmy must enjoy it, still smiling to himself as his attention is turned to the register, where he begins wiping down the keys. 

“Is that really the way to do that?” he asks, gesturing to your sauce bottles. 

You’ve turned the cap upside down, feeding sauce into the bottle one drip at a time. It would be quicker to remove the cap entirely and pour straight from the big bottle, but that sometimes requires three hands, the big jugs are that heavy. 

“Despite what you might think, Carm, I’ve thought it through.” 

“You sure?” 

You could get defensive. When Carmy first took over the restaurant, you thought, What the fuck, Mikey. Leave your shithole restaurant to your world class brother and get your entire roster of staff fired in one fell swoop. But Carmy never fired you, hasn’t cut your hours, doesn’t treat you like an asshole. He is a jerk, that much is certain during busy dinner service, but he has yet to take it too far. (Ish.)

So you won’t defend your laziness, or expect him to like it. You get up from your stool and turn the cap right side up, tapping what’s yet to drip through the spout into the bottle. You set the cap aside, and you uncap the big ketchup to decant sauce until the bottle is full. 

Carmy glances at you from the corner of your eye. He looks at you, looks away again. 

You think he might like you. In the don’t have a choice, grown on him like moss way. He gets cagey when you and Richie are having fun, and he stares altogether too much, but he can be pretty when he’s smiling (or really yelling) and he has nice hands, and nice arms. He has a nice way of saying things. You don’t mind his attention.

There have been worse bosses to want to push you up against a wall. 

Not that you think Carmy could. He whines like a bitch at you for stupid shit, but Carmen Berzatto shoving you into a wall for a rough kiss? That’s never gonna happen. 

And yet… his frown tells a different story. 

“Why do you get so weird about me and Richie?” you ask. 

“I don’t get weird about you and Richie.” 

You open the mayonnaise bottle and set the cap aside. “He’s nicer than you think.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds vaguely depressed, which isn’t uncharacteristic. Seriousness colours his voice with a strange charm. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

“He is, he makes me laugh. He makes sure I eat, he shouts at guys when they’re mean to me.” 

“Who’s mean to you?” 

“Carmy.” You give up on the mayonnaise and wipe your hands down your apron, to his ire. You’d prefer not to smell like egg and oil during this conversation, but it’s better than smelling like burnt chicken, sort of. “Richie’s a nice guy, whether you agree or not.” 

“That’s great, I’m glad he’s so nice to you.” He sounds angry now, but he’s stuck as you are —walking away is losing. 

You really don’t get it. “Is he not supposed to be nice to me?” you ask. 

“He can do what he wants. You can do what you want.”

You laugh, and hope to diffuse the situation with a joke, “Okay, thanks for your permission, Chef.” 

“Fuck off.” 

He sounds less tense, but not fixed. And you might find it harder to keep up with him, constantly wanting to impress him, knowing you can’t, but you’re not out of touch. You aren’t a huge dick. 

Carmy beats you to it. “I was kidding, about the bottles. You can do it how you want.” 

“I wasn’t offended.” 

“But you don’t– with Richie, you– I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with you.” 

You look him up and down, lengths of his arms, tattoos and the cut over his elbow. His clean t-shirt, his neck, the strong line of his nose and his bright eyes. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you say, smiling at him, knowing your expression says lots of weird stuff. 

Working here in the kitchen makes a busy atmosphere normal. Richie’s telling a story at the top of his lungs, Angel’s swearing about a dropped plate, knives scratch on boards and ovens hum. Being overwhelmed is something you’re good at, and big feelings don’t scare you. 

“You’re jealous of Richie?” you ask, playfully pitying. “Get it together.” 

“Fuck off,” he says again. 

“Seriously? Richie Jerimovich. He’s telling Tina a story right now about how the last date he went on ended with her asking if he’d ever been abducted by aliens.” 

“I’m not jealous of Richie.” 

“No, I don’t think you are,” you say, taking a step too close, and refusing to take the step back. 

Carmy doesn’t look mad anymore. 

You wonder if anybody’s ever held his hand. You used to think he must’ve had a ton of girlfriends, he got so famous everywhere he went, but… He looks like he’s never been this close to someone before. Like you’re making him nervous. 

“Me and Richie are friends,” you say quietly. “Is that what you want us to be?” 

His hand twitches at his side. 

“There, cousin, I cut the fucking onions. You happy?” Richie asks, and laughs as he steps back out to the front of house, unaware of the tension. “That’d be the day, right?” 

“Yes, Richie, I’m happy you did your job. Thank you.” 

“Was that hard for you, baby?” you ask Richie with a pout. “Here, let me kiss your poor hands.” 

Richie gives you the bird with both of them. 

You look to Carmy. Making fun of Richie together isn’t quite as good as holding hands, but you hope it’s a start. 

Carmy catches on, can’t hide his grin, “There’s tylenol in the office if you need it, cousin.”  

“Are your wrists feeling tender?” you prompt. “Or is that motion one you’re used to?” 

Carmy laughs and the sound takes on the shape of his smile, nearly giddy. 

“Fuck both of you.” 

[bet-on-me-13]

The Villains Daughter

So! Years ago, back when the Justice League was only just starting out, only a year or two after their initial team-up, they had one of their biggest battles to date. A group of Extra-Dimensional Beings had burst into their reality, hellbent on destroying a Government Facility and the nearby small town in Illinois.

They barely managed to beat the Invading Army back, although the Government Facility and a part of the nearby Town had been destroyed in the battle.

Later, they would learn about what had happened. Apparently the Government Base, called a GIW Facility, had managed to finally Crack the secret to Interdimensional Travel a few days earlier. Unfortunately, they had opened a Portal into a Dimension known as the Ghost Zone, ruled over by a Tyrant King who wanted to enslaved all world under him. Their Breaching of the GZ had alerted the Tyrant King to the existence of their Dimension, and he had launched an immediate Invasion to try and take it over.

And the evidence supported this.

Wonder Woman shared Legends of her People, telling that their Founding Ancestor had fled the rule of a Tyrant King when she passed into the Afterlife.

Zatara shared his Magic Tomes, showing them passages detailing the horrific Rule of the Tyrant King of the Infinite Realms.

They even asked Boston Brand, the Deadman and resident Ghost about it. He hadn't been the the Ghost Zone in Years, but even he told them that he had personally fled the Tyrant King.

And they also learned that when the Tyrant King set his eyes on something, he did not falter on his Warpath to acquire it. The Tyrant King, Pariah Dark, would be back for their World, again and again.

And they needed to be prepared. This Battle was what kickstarted their true Commitment to the idea of a Team. They knew they could not defeat Pariah Dark alone, so they needed to remain as a Team.

But there was another thing that came about from the Battle.

While the JLA had been helping clean up, Wonder Woman came across a strange sight. A Baby had been left in the rubble of the GIW Building.

She asked around, investigated, and did all she could to find the babies parents. At first she thought that one of the GIW Agents had brought their kid to work that day, but their records indicated that none of the Agents had children of that Age. And Neither did any of the other workers who worked on the base, like the Janitors or the Kitchen Staff. And of they did, all of their children were accounted for.

She eventually came to the conclusion that the Baby must belong to somebody in the nearby Town, but that lead led nowhere either.

She finally came to the conclusion that the Baby's parents must have died in the Invasion, a very unfortunate but very real possibility. She was going to place her into the System, but over the course of her investigation she had grown fond of the Child.

She decided to Adopt the baby herself. She didn't know the child's name, so she had to come up with a new one.

"How do you like the name, Stella?"

The baby gurgled in delight.

...

Over the next decade of their Teams Existence, the Justice League had to fend off the Legions of the Ghost King's Army many more times. It seemed that Pariah had grown wise to the fact that they were the ones defending the Human Realm, as almost all of the later attacks were directed on them personally.

It made sense, they were the First Line of Defense against his Armies, if he managed to defeat them, their World would soon fall.

But they dealt with the attacks as they came. They had made it their mission to defend their Home from the Forced of Pariah Darks Army, and they would not falter now, or ever.

In the case of Wonder Woman, he Daughter had grown to be a fine little lady. Stella had eventually developed Powers similar to her mother, in that she could fly and had super strength, and had begged to be trained as a Hero.

And who was Diana to deny her Daughter her greatest wish? Over the next 5 years, Diana trained Stella in the ways of the Amazon's. Then, when Stella was 15, she had her join the newly formed Young Justice.

She made a great group of friends on that Team, and even started going by Ellie as a Nickname. Her best friend was by far Conner, though she didn't know why she felt such a strong connection to him? It felt like she could relate to him, but her situation was completely different?

Ah well, her Mom wouldn't mind having another kid, would she? She always wanted a Brother!

...

Meanwhile in the Ghost Zone, the Ghost King was getting anxious. After 15 years, his Agents in the Human Realm had finally managed to set up the Ritual needed to Summon Him into the Human Realm.

Who knew that accepting the Ghost King's Throne would bar him from entering the Human Realm through normal Means? He couldn't even use the Portal, he needed to be summoned or he simply wouldn't be able to leave his new home dimension.

But now, it was almost time. Just another year or two, and he would finally be able to enter the Human Realm. He would finally be able to Find Her. His Daugther.

Danny would finally be able to reunite with his daughter, Ellie.

[zvaigzdelasas]

In late January, our organization [DAWN - Democracy for the Arab World Now] which works to reform US foreign policy in the Middle East, filed a 172-page legal brief to the International Criminal Court urging it to investigate former President Joe Biden, former Secretary of State Antony Blinken, and former Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin for aiding and abetting war crimes, crimes against humanity, starvation, and genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. The court has already charged the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, and the former defense minister, Yoav Gallant, for committing these same crimes. Seeking the prosecution of US officials in the only global criminal court was not a decision we took lightly, particularly as the court faces threats from the United States itself. But the evidence against Biden, Blinken, and Austin is so overwhelming and the devastation to Palestinians so horrific that we felt it was our duty as a US-based organization to demand accountability for their crimes.

5 Mar 25

Article 25 of the Rome Statute, which governs the ICC, defines accessorial support for a crime as a crime itself. To be held liable for aiding and abetting an international crime under the Rome Statute, there must be evidence that a person has not only substantially contributed to crimes but knew such contribution would facilitate the commission of crimes.

It was not difficult to document such evidence.

Biden, Blinken, and Austin provided Israel with military, diplomatic, and public support knowing that such support would facilitate Israeli attacks on civilians, mass murder, and the deliberate deprivation of items needed for the survival of Gaza’s people. Israeli officials spoke openly about starving Palestinians as a punishment for October 7, and Israel deliberately blocked food and water from entering the territory, which now imports nearly all of its food, creating famine-like conditions.

The military support that these officials authorized was essential to Israel’s ability to carry out its atrocities. Beyond the nearly $20 billion in weapons, Israel relied on the United States to provide intelligence and targeting assistance; attack armed groups in Iraq, Syria, and Yemen; and deploy backup forces, such as US warships and planes. Without this help, Israel could not have so fully obliterated the civilian infrastructure in Gaza. In October 2023, Gallant admitted that Israel depended on US assistance for its military operations, stressing that the Israeli government “relies on them for planes and military equipment.” Other Israeli officials explained that “while Israel has its own intelligence, the United States and Britain have been able to provide intelligence from the air and cyberspace that Israel cannot collect on its own.” And when the Biden administration briefly suspended arms shipments to Israel, the Israel Defense Forces was forced to ration its use of certain munitions.

Supplying this aid to Israel was illegal under US law. Biden, Blinken, and Austin rejected the advice of their own staff to halt these weapons transfers because they violated US laws, such as sections 620I and 502B of the Foreign Assistance Act and the Leahy Law, which prohibit sending weapons to abusive forces.

Several senior State and Defense Department officials publicly resigned in protest of the Biden administration’s Israel policies. Even the Biden administration’s own report to Congress admitted that Israel had failed to comply with international laws prohibiting attacks on civilians, used US weapons to target civilians and civilian objects, and blocked humanitarian aid—including food, water, and medicine—to Gaza. Biden himself warned Israel that it was losing international support because of its “indiscriminate bombing” of Gaza.

These officials knew that Israel would use US weapons to continue its crimes, but instead of following the law and cutting off the flow of arms, they replenished and even accelerated the supply of bombs, artillery shells, mortar rounds, and missiles.

Just as important was the political support that President Biden authorized. The United States vetoed seven Security Council resolutions, including those calling for the provision of humanitarian aid, and abstained in votes for all four successful resolutions that attempted to halt or limit Israeli attacks against civilians. This was coupled with Biden’s, Blinken’s, and Austin’s public justifications of Israeli atrocities—when they sometimes amplified falsehoods, about, for instance, beheaded babies or mass rape, designed to incite rage against Palestinians and neutralize public opposition to US support for Israel. Without the resolute backing of these three US officials, the international community may have been able to order Israel to abide by a ceasefire and halt the bloodletting under threat of sanctions.

Urging the ICC to investigate US officials is a politically fraught undertaking, and with the new Trump administration, it carries additional legal risks. On February 6, President Donald Trump renewed an executive order for sanctions against the ICC—an attempt to obstruct its investigation of Israeli officials. On February 13, the Treasury Department sanctioned ICC Prosecutor Karim Khan under this order, prohibiting the provision of “services” to him by US persons, which could be deemed to include the submission of evidence. Although a federal court enjoined Trump’s previous sanctions on the ICC as an unconstitutional infringement on free speech, it’s unclear whether a new court would reaffirm that finding. DAWN’s January 24 submission predated Trump’s new sanctions regime, but providing any new evidence to the court will be risky, and ICC lawyers and partner organizations have expressed fear of being hit by sanctions and other penalties themselves.

Seeking the ICC’s prosecution of US officials could also trigger a congressional backlash against the court. Though Senate Democrats succeeded in narrowly defeating a bill for much broader sanctions against the court in January, the specter of investigations against US officials may well spur a renewed effort to pass the bill.

The pressure on the court is tremendous, and its survival is at stake—and not only as a direct result of its chief prosecutor being sanctioned. If the ICC fails to prosecute those responsible for the crimes in Gaza because of political pressure, it will lose what credibility it retains and reaffirm the view that it exists merely to prosecute culprits deemed acceptable to the United States—to date, nearly all Black Africans—thereby instigating a stampede of withdrawals from Global South member states. If it continues to prosecute not just indicted Israeli officials but US ones for the genocide in Gaza, the United States will undoubtedly demand that its allies—like the United Kingdom, Germany, Japan, and France, which provide the bulk of the court’s funding—abandon their membership in the court as well, just as it is now demanding that they refuse to enforce the court’s arrest warrants against Netanyahu and Gallant should they visit their countries.

[yelenasbraid]

home to me — joe burrow

summary — bengals are now 0-3, and joe couldn’t feel worse about it. luckily, you’re there to help pick up his broken pieces

warnings — fem!reader, major angst, fluff, crying joey (SORRY)

note — surprise! and don’t come after me!

YOU WATCH WITH AN ACHING HEART the last 4 seconds of the game. you wished so badly for a miracle, for an interception, for something to turn that 33 into anything higher than a 38. offense looked great, defense? you could do better than they did without the padding.

that was your bitterness talking.

you filed out of the stadium and down to where you usually met joe; outside the locker room. you knew that this wasn’t going to be the celebration you hoped for. you knew that joe wasn’t going to have that boyish grin on his face, and it broke your heart. you felt like you haven’t seen joe smile in weeks.

you stood there, anxiously swaying as you watched player after player shuffle in from the field. those who noticed you gave you a small, sad smile. others kept going, angry at themselves and at the world.

joe appeared at the end of the crowd of players, as he usually did, with his head down. his shoulders sagged, but it wasn’t until he looked up and locked eyes with you that you saw everything.

joe was devastated, and rightfully so.

he parted from the staff member and walked over to you, a small pep in his step as he did so. no words were spoken as he threw his arms around you, bringing you as close as he could get you. you embraced him back, cradling his head as he nuzzled into your neck.

he’s never done this before, even after a win. for joe to express this level of emotion right after a game was unusual. it worried you, but maybe you were overthinking. you hoped you were.

joe separated from you, sniffling and keeping the tears at bay. you held onto his hands and watched him with a worried eye.

“i’m fine,” he answered your silent question. you knew he wasn’t, and he knew that you knew. that much was obvious.

“ok,” you hummed, but that’s all you were going to say right now. you didn’t believe him, and he knew that. joe gave you a single look, his eyes opening a gateway into his heart, the depth of his sadness. he was beating himself up, and pretty badly too.

“i might be a minute, go on home. i’ll see you later,” he told you. driving separately wasn’t abnormal, sometimes you had to. especially if it was an away game. what was odd was the way he seemed to stick around, unable to move his feet.

“ok, i love you,” you reminded him. his face softened, letting your words permeate through the tension in his chest. he just needed to make it through the press conference.

“i love you,” he replied. he gave you a lingering kiss on the forehead before he stepped away. he didn’t want to, though. he wanted to stay where it was safe, where it was comfortable. he wanted to stay with you because he didn’t have to explain himself. somehow, you always knew.

—

you were showered and in your pajamas by the time joe got home. you sat on the couch, blanket draped over your legs and your phone in your hands. you saw the comments, the videos of disappointed fans. you saw the posts all about how much of an upset the loss was. the more you read on, the more you realized that the fans didn’t think joe was at fault. they’d be right, it wasn’t his fault.

your eyes flicked up from your phone as joe made his way further into the house. his footsteps are heavy, as is the rest of his body. he’s exhausted, and there’s only a thread keeping him from falling apart.

“babe?” you called out to him, and he slowly turned his eyes towards you. his eyes were puffy, his face was red; did he cry in the car on the way home? silence met your questioning tone, but it did stop him in his tracks.

usually after a bad game, or a loss, joe needed space. he’d trudge up to his office and stay there for a few hours, pouring over film and noting strategies they needed to try next time. he was still going to do those things, but tonight was different. you knew it was the second he hugged you like he did after the game.

“i’m fine,” he replied, his voice breaking. joe didn’t like crying, in fact, he hated it. but he grew used to it, learning that just because he cried didn’t mean he was any less or he was weak. it took him a while for him to trust you with that vulnerability, but once he did, the flood gates couldn’t be locked tight for long.

“you’re not,” you hummed softly. he knew he wasn’t, and he wasn’t trying hard enough to hide it. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to make the tears go away, but all it did was make his eyes burn more.

“don’t run away from me, don’t shut me out,” you stood up from your spot on the couch, slowly walking over to him. he was battling himself as he stood there, tears sliding down his raw cheeks. his mind was waging a war against him, telling him lies about himself and about how he played.

“why?” he asked you.

“why what?”

“i’ve lost three games, and i’ve treated you horribly after two of them. why are you still with me?” he voiced his vulnerability, his fear. his heart told him you wouldn’t leave him because of a losing streak, but the malicious whispers in his mind told him a different story.

“one, you apologized to me and we talked about it,” you started, “secondly, joey, i’m still with you because you are the love of my life. you’re there to pick me up when i’m down, you’re able to make me laugh, you’ve helped me put pieces of myself back together that you didn’t break in the first place. you’re protective, and you’re a fighter, that’s why i’m with you and will always be with you,” you finished, peering into his eyes. you saw your words sink in and start to meld him back together, but it wasn’t enough.

“i’ve lost three games, three. no matter how hard i fight, no matter how well i think i did, i can’t seem to win a damn game!” joe spoke through gritted teeth, his hands going through his hair. he’s frustrated, he’s angry, and he’s beating himself up. he’s not blaming the team, he’s blaming himself.

“all of these people, all of the fans, you, i’ve disappointed them. i’ve disappointed you, i promised myself that i was going to bring home a superbowl ring, for both of us, and if we keep losing-”

“stop, joey,” you interrupted his spiral with a soft hand to his chest. he’s panting, out of breath from the amount of anxiety he’s giving himself.

“listen to me, look at me,” you tilt his chin so his eyes meet yours, feeling the soft starts of scruff against your finger tips, “you did not disappoint me, and you most certainly didn’t disappoint the fans watching you tonight. you played well, you made decisive plays, you were quick to release the ball. you did your job and did it well. and you will get that super bowl ring, i believe that, and so do you. you’ve beat the odds before, you’ve showed the world to never underestimate joe burrow, the small town kid from athens, ohio. so, show them again. show them what this kid can do,” you went on, shining light on the things that made joe joe.

“i’ve failed that kid,” he whispered, afraid to say it out loud. he’s fought so hard his whole life, and he still fought. joe’s never given up and he doesn’t plan on it, but the anger hasn’t settled in yet. the vengeance hasn’t taken root yet.

“no, no love you didn’t, you haven’t. you didn’t fail him when you tore your acl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the superbowl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the afc championship, you didn’t fail him amidst the injuries and the doubts. that kid would do anything to play football, and that’s exactly what you’re doing,” you told him, cradling his cheek with your hand. you could see the crack in his hard exterior, the way his blue eyes showed the depths of his soul. you could see glimpses of baby joey, the anxiety that ran deep, that threatened to take hold.

when joe looked at you, that anxiety slithered away. it tucked its tail and ran; you were his god given solace. he felt at home, he felt the warmth and the safety that radiated off of you.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he asked, melting into your touch.

“absolutely nothing,” you replied. you took his hand, guiding him back to the couch. you sat down, resting your back against the arm rest. you didn’t have to offer him, joe just found himself laying against your chest, his arms wrapped around you. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head and threading your fingers through his frosted tips.

“i’m so proud of you, you know that?” you asked.

“i do,” he replied. he melted into you, relaxing against the feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat in your chest.

“panthers don’t stand a chance,” he mumbled against your chest, making you laugh.

“show em who’s boss, baby,” you chuckled. joe would always come home to you, which wasn’t always physically. sure, home was a place, but it was also a person. you were his home, and he was home as long as he was with you.

i wrote this in one sitting!!! it took some editing and some rethinking, but i’m pretty proud of it! this may not be totally accurate joe but whatevs. enjoy this lovely, angsty piece!

[smoothlikealikeasnake]

Strong Coffee and Sweet Cakes

Chapter One ‘Introduction’

Genre - BTS FF, a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o BTS and MC, Ot7 x fem MC/reader, so fluffy, little angst, eventual smut

Warnings - MC has some appearance description to fit the story, not named however and this is written, a/b/o description and dynamics, slight reference to potential sexual assault, as always let me know if there’s anything to add xx

Summary - A new cafe near the Hybe building will change the 7 members of Bangtan’s lives forever, 7 alphas in a pack? A recipe for disaster. Until a sweet omega starts to stir up their world with a little bit more sugar and slowly their loneliness dissolves

Next Chapter

Author Notes - Hello my lovely readers, this is a new series I’m starting alongside strawberry princess because I’ve hit a serious stump with it right now and the ideas for this fic are just flowing so I really hope you enjoy xx

The last few months had made your dream come true, your cafe/bakery building was finished, staff hired and business had began to bloom like flowers of the spring.

As an omega, it’s instinctual to love to feed, provide, put a smile on others faces and that’s exactly what your baking and the environment you created does and it’s everything you’ve wanted. Sure, it’s less common for Omegas to work let alone own a business but you manage, maintaining a balance of working behind the scenes (baking) and occasionally up front to take orders, serve and make drinks.

Some days your timidness gets the best of you, forcing you to shy away from any sort of attention, that’s why always having other staff on the shift is essential to making your business work. Yuqi, Soyeon and Soojin aren’t only the staff that work with you but have become your best friends.

Yuqi is an alpha, witty personality and always quick to your defensive but she equally gets on with the customers with how easily her (joking) sarcasm and teasing attitude makes them feel comfortable and more relaxed.

Soyeon and Soojin are also alphas, Soyeon taking on a leadership role without you ever having to ask or show it, her just knowing when it’s one of those days by the way you’ll aggressively push your hair back from your face too often to be relaxed and she’ll instantly remind you of small tasks that you should do, in the kitchen or around the building in general, away from the often busy environment of the cafe.

Soojin never fails to tease and push as your limits to coax you out of your shell, gently prying you out of your own head and ruffling your hair when she succeeds. You especially adore Wednesdays where Shuhua (Soojin’s beta girlfriend) comes to spend lunch at the cafe and always asks about your new recipes, requesting to try until it became a routine for you to prepare your newest bake for her to try and rate, thinking about wether to add it to the menu or not.

The days where you aren’t in your own head are the best ones, being able to appreciate and float around the beautiful, peaceful environment you created, the amount of people (large or small) never being able to take away the calmness you put effort into creating with the decor, air quality (so no one is overwhelmed by any scents besides the bakes and coffee) and overall atmosphere you strove to create.

You love to hand out your bakes and make warming or refreshing drinks. Staying a beat longer than necessary sometimes to watch as the often sugary treats sweeten someone’s day even just a little, living for the brightness that builds in their eyes and words of appreciation sent your way that admittedly never fail to make you blush.

Your charm and demeanour is loved by your regulars, on your days in the kitchen your always informed by Soojin that they were wondering where you were, the baker of their favourite treats.

“I heard you were looking for me yesterday Mr. Kim, here’s your mint tea with a little spoon of honey” - You smiled as you approached the older man, his eyes closing with the bright smile he returns, gushing and mildly scolding you for not being there, both of you knowing he was only teasing.

Efforts are made to know your regulars orders and their preferences in terms of time and location, for example you always had a teapot of chamomile tea ready to brew for Mrs. Han who came every evening after work and wanted to avoid coffee to wind down, always staying until closing and finishing the entire teapot. You’d ask her how her work was everyday, she’d give you a tired but relieved smile after her first sip of the hot soothing tea and give you a small brief, always praising you and thanking you for your consideration.

You like the connections you’ve made, the warmth you can bring to the people you serve and it satisfies something deep within you, makes you purr through the evening after the end of your day and go to sleep with your thick duvets, burrowed in your bed in the nest fit for one, often dozing off with a sweet smile.

There’s of course the days where your nest isn’t filled with happy purrs, instead it’s slightly ruffled as you try to comfort yourself after a particularly hard day or a day where you didn’t have the luckiest encounter with a customer. Some times it’s typical, rude customer, just in general or sometimes directing disbelief and degradation at you because you’re an omega. Other times you have gotten unlucky with a beta or alpha who thinks they have a right to suddenly be handsy and make sly comments simply because you are friendly. One of the girls will step in as soon as they catch a shift in your sweet scent, wavering with uncertainty because you never want to make a customer upset or take their intentions the wrong way but that leniancy also means they get a few extra seconds to try and be vulgar before one of the girls swoop in and swiftly replace you with them, pasive aggressive comments thrown towards whoever thought they had any right and in some, very bad cases, the culprit is forced out of the cafe. Those are the days when you need to recharge, often end up behind the scenes the follow day rather than front of hourse and your friends always understand, also ecnourage you to do just a little extra baking.

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Mondays are hard for everyone, you take extra effort to put out all the bakes, finish up any details and ensure everything is prepared for opening in the early morning before the first rush of customers enter, often for their coffees. Thats how this story begins.

its 6am, Namjoon is rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, a bad habit, but one that feels necessary considerig hes been awake all night, his thick glasses barely doing much to hide the tiredness in his eyes. He tried to look more alive before leaving the studio, running his hands through his hair and throwing on a fresh black hoodie to match the black trousers he wore but it didnt do much honestly and he knew that. It was an effort however, and thats what mattered.

His friends have been raving about this new cafe, with also the sweetest bakes and amazing coffee and although he hasnt had an opportunity to visit and try before, he had an opportunity, or rather, a excuse now. Monday morning, up all night, in desperate need of caffeine and the cafe was only a 10 minute walk from the company building. A nice change to the quick machine coffee he settles for in the studio every day. And he needs the fresh air, they all do honestly but now more than ever with a comeback creeping up and everyones tension rising.

Its only expected, it happens just before every comeback, tension is high because stress is put on everyone and in a pack purely of alphas? Its multiplied, try multipled 7 times. It gets worked out easily, always does and everyone knows it will only take one foot out of place at this sort of time for a argument to creep up and its easily resolved. Unavoidable, but easily resolved and thats what comforts everyone, knowing its shortlived and that the joy and success that follows during and after a comeback is always worth the exhaustion and hardships taken to create it.

Namjoon is stuck on one song, one gap in the album with a clock ticking in his head, driving him further and further into turmoil. No motivation, no muse, just exhaustion and stress. Nature has always been something to mentally rejuvinate the alpha, so the walk to the cafe is needed to try out this semi-famous cups of coffee and get physical rejuvination (glorious caffeine).

Hes pleasently surprised as the cafe comes into view, its fairly empty from what he can see on the outside considering the first rush of the day tends to be from 7:15 to 8:45 (noted in your one of your cafe note books). The outside is inviting, with your effort to maximise the comfort from aesthetics, a variety of plants and florals decorate the walls, windows, near the door, the earthy, fresh scent immediately clearing Namjoon's airways in a way he never knew he needed, it was literally a breathe of fresh air. Theres a couple small tables out front aswell, some wooden, some a pretty kind of white pattern, almost looking like you'd just followed your heart on every single set you liked the look of rather thna keeping to one theme (you had) and it worked. So well.

Walking to the door, Namjoon already felt lighter, the handwritten 'Open!' in a pretty but effortless cursive so welcoming. A little bell rang as he pushed open the door, a quiet jazz tune playing that he knew Taehyung would appreciate more than anyone and Namjoon just stood in pure awe taking in the place around him. He'd been hit with the scent of fresh baking and coffee, no too strong though, a common theme of plants all throughout the space and its clear how youd taken to making every second spent in and outside of the cafe enjoyable and comfortable. The lighting is dim and warm, not clinical or overwhelming like it is in the company building, homey and without realising, tension was already releasing from his body in waves, replaced with relaxation before he'd even gotten up to the till to order.

The interior is whimsical, instinctual and similar to the exterior, the walls muted colours, an array of different woods, comfortable, worn leather, patterns that could clash but were so expertly placed that they just didnt, no two pieces the same anywhere and it could be overwhelming but again, it just isnt. The other thing he noticed is the pure attention to detail in furntire placement, theres windows everywhere, natural sunlight on multiple tables and chairs of different sizes for different groups but theres also a few corners outside of the light for those who would prefer, a few extra lamps and dim lights placed in those areas to accomodate. Charging points for those who want to stay and study or work, Jugs of Fresh water on every table (all different jugs) with little pots of fresh citrus fruits to add should you want too and glasses to pour into, whimsical little trinkets placed on each table and around the edges and the walls decorated in carefully picked paintings. Its Namjoons heaven, and theres specific features inside that every single member would simply adore.

The last thing he notices is the pillows and blankets on every seat and area, attention to comfort and each were perfectly fluffed up, the indents on the sides suggesting it was done by hand (it was, part of your morning cafe routine), blankets of all kinds all around and across the room he could spot a few wicker baskets overflowing with even more, another hand written sign on the wall just above it, something he couldnt quite make out. And then he finally moves, approaches the pretty display of baked goods, everything he could imagine fully stocked with the exception of one or two bakes being gone from some of the trays where the first customers had come in.

Theres a fancy coffee machine, fresh fruit and juice station and on the shelves is all of the cups for sitting in and their matching - or mismatched - tea plates, he couldnt spot two of the same mug or cup and really it was meant to feel like home, more home than the studio, than the company, than his own large apartment, its a deep rooted kind of home and Namjoon held his breath for a moment without even noticing what he was doing.

No one behind the counter, he worried you werent open before remembering the sign on the door and then right in front of him, an answer. Another bell, small and with yet another hand written sign next to it 'Ring Me for Service!', the dotted 'i' in service slightly smudged and for some reason it made him smile so with a single finger, Namjoon gently tapped the bell, its gently 'ding!' summoning you, clumsily scurrying through the door to the kitchen with wide eyes and a slightly messy ponytail, your apron still on and Namjoon stopped breathing as your scent invades his nose, sugary sweet pastry, cream, warm cinnamon and a little hint of strawberry, just tart enough to make your mouth water but sweet enough to balance it. Namjoon quickly regained compsure, refusing to inhale deeply like he wanted to in fear it would make you uncomfortable and you, clumsily running out at the bell havent really got your two thoughts together just jumping right into your customer service routine before you glance up and realise this is a new customer, another member of the hybe building and groups but that doesnt phase you at all, its his beauty that does. Hes dragon-like, breathtaking, big, tan, ever so gentle but so clearly an alpha and hes scent is perfectly earthy, laced with some sort of deep exhaustion that upon closer look is evident in his eyebags, mess hair and tired eyes and instantly you feel a need to nurture it, to care for him and nurse him back to health in a stronger way than you feel for other customers, you dont know why its stronger with him but you wont let that sway you from your usual gentle approach to customers, you wont overstep any boundaries and neither would he.

'Good Morning! what can i get you today?' - Your positive, bubbly personality even at 6 in the morning warms Namjoon's heart and he finds a smile gracing his tired features instantly, almost forgetting to answer for a moment until you look up at him expectantly. Things started to make sense, hed heard an omega owns the cafe and this was you, so clearly an omega, small in size, cheeks tinted pink naturally, fingers slightly chubby as they hover the screen infront of you and it all came together, the attention to detail, clearly precise placing of furniture and decoration only achievable by an omega skilled in nesting, the blankets and pillows galore, you have his heart in an instant but he clears his throat, rather clumsily and gets back on his train of thought, looking up at the board of contents as if he would differ from his go to order.

'Ill just have an espresso please' - You nod enthusastically tapping a few buttons on your screen and then looking up again

'Do you have a preffered coffee blend?' - Hand reaching towards another handwritten sign with the list of roasts you offer and Namjoon faulters, some he has heard of, others he hasnt so he goes with a quicker, easier answer he really hopes doesnt bother you

'Whatever you reconmend' - The uncertainty in Namjoon's voice makes you soften even more and you once again nod, choosing what you deem a safe and seemingly fitting option, a mid ground.

'Would you like anything else today?' - Namjoon pauses for a moment, looking at the display of so many treats and sweets and considers them but with so much choice and not having thought it through, he settled for going without, even if a few did catch his eye and had him lingering on them a second too long which you instantly picked up and mentally noted for later.

'That's all thank you'

'And will that be to go or sit in?'

'To g- actually, ill sit in thank you' - A few minutes in this wonderful space wouldnt kill anyone right, hes trying to rejuvinate his mind and motivation and he certainly cant do that at the studio so a break was needed. He saw your eyes light up at his change of heart and he wanted to watch that again and again, something so small but so sweet. You nodded enthusastically

He pays via the card machine, leaving an extra tip you would have definitely deemed unnecessary but you didnt see as you quickly got to work on his espresso. Namjoon took his time choosing where to sit, your words encouraging him to do so 'You can take a seat anywhere youd like, ill bring it right over!' and after some contemplation, he chose a singular seat, leather armchair, comfortable and cushiony infront of the direct sunlight, the small space shared with a large plant on the floor and a small table with a few books he hadnt noticed before, a small cup with some sugar cubes and mini tongs right next to it and the entire set up just had him melting, eyes half closed and breathing slow. Now, his eyes are feeling heavy again but maybe its welcomed, a different kind of break that hes needed for days now, even if it isnt sleep, his eyes are barely open when you teeter over, so light on your feet he doesnt even hear besides the light chime as the cup is settled on the table.

Unbeknowest to him, you watch him fondly as you bring over the espresso, hoping he'd feel even a bit better after some time in the cafe and the drink he'd requested. He's loosely gripping the arms of the chair and his head is tilted back, your careful to very gently place the cup down but he seems to hear and you feel slightly bad for snapping him out of his own mind, he sits up again slightly and watches you step back, listening to your every word, its a simple statement but the way he catches every little tinge of your voice makes you feel giddy and you dont know why.

'Here you go, i hope you enjoy it' - You say not only as a reference to the drink in general but also specifically because you chose the blend he was about to try. You only stay for a moment before slowly walking away so that he can have his privacy.

'Thank you' - Namjoon instantly picks up the hot mug and takes a small sip but he has to hold back a loud groan of satisfaction as the espresso mellows on his tongue, its not bitter at all, smooth and somehow refreshing and lacks acidity which is perfect for him. He fails to hold it all back so in that moment a small humm of satisfaction leaves him and you keep your ears out for his reaction when your walking, smiling and blushing slightly, feeling warm and fulfilled when you hear him mumble about it being 'so good'.

Taking his time, Namjoon slowly sipped at the small drink, savouring every drop hitting his tongue with his eyes closed at every taste. You half watched in the distance, just glancing over every now and then between your tasks and tending to the few customers who came in and when you had a few minutes free, just teetering behind the counter you noticed Namjoon standing up and walking over, instantly setting yourself behind the small screen you use again.

'That was amazing, could i have another by any chance' - The fondness in Namjoons words and how hed blurted it out before you could even get a word in made you falter and your scent sweetened in an instant, a happy smile taking over your lips and head bouncing in a eager nod. Namjoon watched you with the same happiness, glad to be the reason your scent sweetened and mood lit up even more, he gently slides the cup over and pays on the machine, an unnecessarily large tip once again. He made his way back to his seat as he waited, the stress he was holding within just half an hour ago pretty much gone now, temporarily, he doesnt know how but he just feels so much better.

You moved over the machines with practiced ease, finishing up the espresso but with a quick thought, you realised he came in, has ordered two espressos and its 6 in the morning, you doubt hes had anything to eat, he'd denied anything else but you caught his eyes lingering on the apple and cinnamon pretzels with caramel drizzle, its a long shot what you want to do but you cant push away the dismay you have for drinking that much caffeine at this time on an supposedly empty stomach. Its a sugary, filling and sweet treat thatll be perfect with the strong espressos hes ordered so grabbing a small plate, you place one on and grab his espresso, making your way back over to him, his eyes reopening just as before when the ceramics touch the table. His eyes light up in delight, then curiosity as he sees the pretzel and you speak before he can say a word.

"You should'nt have this much caffeine on an empty stomach" - Fast, the words tumble out rather clumsily, now hesitant when you see his slightly parted lips still processing your words. You clarify its on the house and Namjoon stumbles on his own words for a few moments before you can feel the appreciation tumbling out of him in waves, his scent stronger but not in a discomforting way, its pleasant, maybe a little mind numbing but any hesitance you had melts in a single sigh and smile"

“Thats so sweet, thank you" - Namjoon instantly reaches to try to pretzel and the accumulation of flavours make his eyes widen comically, the sugars perfectly balanced, texture just perfect, flavour combination incredible and he looks at you incrediously.

"'Its incredible, i should of ordered it earlier-" - Its fond and in awe for he speaks and with a small sip of espresso it only seems to make it better and quietly Namjoon groans and melts in his seat, the warmth of it all re-energising his body just how he needed.

Your absolutely blushing, giggling before you can think at his reaction and feel proud of yourself, like youve done something right. Practically purring with accomplishment, you have to keep your own instinctual reactions in check but the rest of the day your light in your steps, all smiles and gidiness, you got this reaction so often but for some reason it feels different coming from this stranger.

"Oh im so glad!" - Is all you can manage with the sheer size of your smile, your eyes forced almost closed from it and you saunter away leaving him to enjoy, briefly hearing him mumble something about others having to try, not that you know what others hes talking about.

Leaving is harder than Namjoon originally imagined it would be when he finishes everything, quicker than before because its 6:45 and he should really be back for 7. Reluctantly, Namjoon stands and takes the plate and mug over to the counter, just to thank you again, your whizzing around refilling the trays ready for the morning rush and he patiently waits until you notice him, your nose twitching from his scent and you shoot up, back straightening and give him a big smile

"I just want to thank you for this, it was really amazing, so sweet of you too" - Namjoon got out rather shyly, adjusting his glasses on his nose and sending you his dazzling smile and you listened with wide eyes and a resurfacing blush from the praise/compliment. It makes you stutter over your words as you reply, taking the mug and plate over the counter with slightly shaking hands half because you get jittery right before rush times and half from his presence

"Im so happy you enjoyed, m-make sure you eat when your drinking your espressos" - You got the last bit out fast like it was a gamble and while you tried to say it teasingly it came out surprisingly assertive in your caring manner and Namjoon looked at you surprised for a moment before his smile came right back and he laughed gently

"I will do, take care"

"You too!" - You happily reply before he turns on his heel and makes his way out, visibly less tense and tired than before and that makes the pep in your step even more obvious, you hope he'll come back.

"Whats got you all happy sweets?" - Yuqi asks as she just clocked in, teasing but equally curious and you gently blush again

"Oh, nothingg-" - But the tone you say it in blatantly gives it away ad Yuqi just nudges you with her shoulder and a prying smile before getting to attend the first customers of the morning rush.

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Its been 6 months since BTS has been back together, everyone finishing military service and it was joyous and then it was hard. Friends all around of the same age are getting married, having children and none of BTS have been able to settle down with who hey think is forever. Of course theyve had their flings, relationships both long and short term but in the end, they are where they are now, no one in a relationship and it does take a toll. It can be lonely.

Especially with the stress of they're arguably most important comeback yet, everyones beyond exhausted, drained. Theyve changed in good ways since the military, more confident than ever, comfortable in themselves and everyones put on a lot of muscle but none of that changes that fact that something is missing, a small hole in each of their hearts, collectively a hole in their pack. They dont talk about it- about what would happen if one of them did settle down with someone forever, if their pack would split but collectively no one can see it happening, they go through everything together and any sort of split would feel like heartbreak.

Rejoining Yoongi and Hoseok in the studio, 7am sharp, Namjoon walks with a bounce, eyes no longer trying to close on themselves and hes brought back to life in a way the company's coffee definitely can't bring. The two older members are sitting in pure confusion at the easy energy Namjoon has just gained out of nowhere and they watch silently for a second at the small smile settled on his lips before they decide to actually ask.

"Where did you go to get all happy?" - Because surely he hadnt got laid in the hour that he left- thats not like Namjoon but the blush that graces his face at being called out makes them oh so curious as to what their leaders been up to.

"I just went and got some coffee and breakfast"

"From here?" - Hoseok said with disbelief because he knows it isnt good like that

"No uh- you know that cafe everyones been talking about?"

"Im sure ive heard of it in passing, that good huh?" - Yoongi thinks it must be glorious because wow Namjoon seems as happy as he did the day he got to go home from the military

"Ah yeah its really good- i only went there for a coffee to go but i didnt really want to leave, youve got to go and see what i mean"

"what, like the atmosphere or the coffee?"

"well both and- theres this really sweet omega"

"come on spit it out Joon"

"She made my espressos and they were so good but she bakes- i think shes the one who bakes atleast- and she brought me over a fresh pretzel telling me i shouldnt be drinking caffeine on an empty stomach and hyung she just cared-"

"Joon you sound like- lovestruck." - Yoongi added in a flat tone, really not understanding where he was going with this

"Yeah, it sounds more like she was lecturing you" - Hoseok adds hesitantly

"You just have to see, it was really sweet and it made my morning better alright?" - Namjoon sighed and the two elder members decided to lay off and just appreciate the energy he was bringing

"Come with me, later or tomorrow and we will go get coffee there, its really nice" - Yoongi hummed in agreement because he never said no to caffeine and Hoseok agreed because he wouldnt help but be jealous of the joy Namjoon was experiencing considering how they'd all been recently.

Namjoon couldnt wait to go back and get another apple and cinnamon pretzel.

Hi everyone! I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this new fic, please do let me know what you think, as always my asks are open!

Thank you so much for reading!

Mwah 💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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[famoussheepfox]

Call on Musk: to launch an in-depth investigation into more "financial aid" departments #USAID #MARA#USA Colorful Warrior

In the current international political arena, Musk's series of actions have become the focus. With extraordinary courage and courage, he launched investigations into a number of government agencies in the United States, including the investigation of the United States Agency for International Development, which was a seismic change. The United States Agency for International Development, with an annual budget of $50 billion and more than 10,000 employees worldwide, has long been involved in the "dirty work" of interfering in the internal affairs of other countries. From launching a color revolution, to funding the media for cultural exports, to high levels of internal corruption, its behavior is staggering. Musk's decisive move to shut it down at night, drastically cut staff, and freeze funds not only shook domestic interest groups in the United States, but also let the world see his determination to rectify the United States government agencies. However, USAID is only the tip of the iceberg. There are also many departments, such as the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, and the US Military Information Operations Center, which may also have serious "financial aid" black curtain, which needs Musk's attention and investigation. Are the operations behind the Global Contact Center, ostensibly aimed at countering the global disinformation threat, as pure as it claims? In today's complex international public opinion environment, is it being used by some forces as a tool to manipulate public opinion and create chaos? Is the flow of money clear and transparent? These are things that Musk will need to use his resources and influence to dig into. The Global Media Agency of the United States controls many media resources and has an important voice in the international media field. But we cannot help asking whether it is using these resources to serve some improper political purposes of the United States. Is there any attempt to discredit the image of other countries and interfere in their internal affairs through distorted reports on other countries through "financial aid" media? Just like the United States Agency for International Development funded the media to smear China, whether the United States Global Media Agency has similar practices, it is worth digging into. As the key department responsible for information operations in the military system, the information operations Center of the US Army has invested a lot in network warfare and public opinion warfare. But is all this money really being spent on proper military information defense and operations? Is it possible that some of the funds have been diverted to support information operations that are unofficial or even contrary to international law, such as cyberattacks on other countries or the spread of disinformation about the military? This also requires Musk to lead the team to find out. Musk's previous actions have proven that he has the ability and determination to break through the interests of the United States government agencies and expose the dark curtain. Now, we call on Musk to look to the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, the US Army Information Operations Center and other "financial assistance" departments, and let their operations be tested in the light of day. Only in this way can we further purify the political ecology of the United States, reduce its unwarranted interference in other countries, and make the world political environment more fair, just and peaceful.

[reiding-writing]

Can i get a workshop session? How about spencer with a reader who's actually smarter than him? Maybe she's younger too, thanksss

GENIUS² — SPENCER REID!

working alongside another genius was a blessing, in more ways than one.

early!seasons!spencer x reader | fluff | 1.3k | event masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— the genius x genius trope is great i love it

Spencer Reid prided himself on being one of the smartest people in the room.

At 24 years old, he was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs under his belt, and an eidetic memory that made him practically a walking encyclopaedia.

His mind moved faster than 99.7% of the world’s population, processing information, analysing patterns, and solving puzzles with ease.

But none of that prepared him for you.

You were younger than him by two years, and while you didn’t have a wall lined with degrees like Spencer, your intelligence was undeniable.

A bachelor’s degree in Theoretical Physics had been enough to earn you a spot in the BAU, something that had surprised even you.

Hotch had seen something in you—your ability to not only understand the unsub’s behavior but to intuitively connect pieces of information in ways most people couldn’t. It was something the team found invaluable.

And it didn’t take long for Spencer to notice.

Where Spencer excelled in academic brilliance, you had a talent for thinking outside the box. You connected dots faster than most people even realized there were dots to connect.

Spencer was used to being the one with all the answers, the one who could solve problems others struggled with, but you? You were different. You weren’t afraid to speak up, even if it meant contradicting his carefully constructed theories. You didn’t care about bruising egos, least of all his, and it fascinated him.

The first time Spencer realised you were special was during a particularly tough case.

The team had been chasing down a serial killer for weeks—a cryptic unsub who left strange, undecipherable messages at each crime scene.

Spencer had spent hours poring over the notes, scrawling down numbers, symbols, and trying to make sense of the pattern, but nothing clicked. His frustration was palpable; his fingers were tapping restlessly on the desk, and his usually sharp mind felt like it was hitting a wall.

An iron wall, covered in spikes and barbed wire.

Then you had walked in. Quietly, unassuming, you hovered over his shoulder for a moment before making a suggestion that cut through his fog of confusion.

“You might be thinking about this too literally,” You said casually, your voice breaking through the silence.

Spencer looked up, frowning slightly, both intrigued and a bit defensive. “What do you mean?”

You slid into the chair next to him, your eyes scanning the pages spread out across his desk. “You’re trying to solve this like a mathematical puzzle, but uh— the letters in the corners of his notes are literally just spelling out ‘library’, so I went to the nearest library and spoke to the librarian on staff, she gave me this,”

You pull out a scrap piece of paper from your pocket and hold it out towards him, a handwritten poem.

Spencer blinked, the pieces clicking together in his mind with almost audible force as he took the poem from you.

You’d identified the connection instantly, something Spencer would have done himself had his mind not been knotted up in frustration. But instead of feeling defeated, he was astonished.

“How did you-?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, as if it were obviousLooking at the bigger picture can be really useful sometimes,”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, watching as you calmly began jotting down more notes, your mind racing ahead as if you’d never even paused for breath. He realised, in that moment, that you weren’t just another member of the team. You were his equal—possibly even more than that.

From then on, Spencer found himself constantly intrigued by you. The two of you often ended up working side by side, bouncing ideas off each other in a way that was both exciting and intimidating for Spencer.

You were quick, your mind moving in a different way than his, and he found himself almost eager to keep up with your train of thought. You saw things he didn’t, caught details he might have missed, and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. No one had ever made him feel… not inferior, but challenged in such a unique way.

The conversations between you were often odd. Both of you were too intelligent for typical small talk, so you found yourselves discussing obscure facts or debating over scientific theories in the most random of moments.

Spencer would mention something about a 14th-century mathematician, and you would immediately counter with a parallel discovery made in physics centuries later. Neither of you really knew how to navigate personal conversations, so you stuck to what you both understood—facts, theories, and knowledge.

One evening, after a particularly long day spent on another complex case, the bullpen was empty except for the two of you. The team had gone home, but you stayed behind, just like Spencer always did, combing through the evidence again, searching for a missing piece.

You were seated across from him, your brow furrowed in concentration, scribbling notes onto a pad of paper.

Every few minutes, Spencer found himself glancing at you. It wasn’t something he could control—his curiosity about the way your mind worked was something that pulled him in, a constant mystery to unravel.

You were focused, absorbed in your task, and Spencer couldn’t help but admire how quickly you picked up on things. Sometimes, you were faster than him, and that realization both thrilled and unnerved him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your voice breaking the silence without even looking up.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard, and you did it effortlessly. “I—I wasn’t staring. I was just… thinking.”

You finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “What were you thinking about?”

He swallowed, his brain scrambling for an answer that didn’t sound ridiculous. “You’re really good at this,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “You are too.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren’t his strong suit, and he wasn’t used to receiving them either. “I mean, you’re younger than me, but you’re just as—no, sometimes more—effective than I am. It’s… impressive.”

For the first time since he’d met you, you looked almost shy. “I’ve always looked up to you, you know,” You admitted quietly. “When I first started here, I thought you were kind of untouchable. Like, how could anyone keep up with a guy who knows literally everything?”

Spencer stared at you, speechless. The idea that you—someone he viewed as his intellectual equal, if not superior—had once looked up to him was almost unbelievable. It made him see you in a different light.

“Well,” he said, after a long pause, “I guess we keep each other on our toes.”

You smiled at that, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. It was a strange dynamic—two people too intelligent for normal conversations, yet too awkward to fully acknowledge the unique bond that had formed between you.

But it worked. You pushed each other, kept each other sharp. Whenever Spencer stumbled over an obscure reference, you were there to catch it. When you went too far into the realm of abstract thinking, Spencer reeled you back in with hard logic.

You were a perfect balance—an unstoppable team, even if neither of you would say it outright. And in a world where people rarely understood either of you, you had found something important in each other, an unlikely equal.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Trouble

Hi guys!

So this come from a request I had several weeks before, but I deleted it like the dumbass I am :) Sorry dear Anon, but they were asking for a long story like the one I did for Alessia and Caitlin.

So here it is :) I hope you'll like it, it's a long one. And I haven’t proofread it, sorry for the mistakes I’ll do it later 🙃

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Pregnancy, Angst, Injuries, mention of breakup, concussion and I think it's ok like this. Please tell me if I forgot anything.

Even if you are from Spain, you are a figure from your youngest age at Arsenal. You are here since your 20 birthdays, and you just finished your seventh year in the north London. You have seen a lot of people coming and leaving, the last one leaving being of course Vivianne Miedema. It was a sad day honestly; you are anyway happy to see Mariona coming with you and Laia to extend the Spanish population in Arsenal. You are three now. Laia, Mariona and you.

You get along pretty great with all the people, even the new signings like Kyra or Alessia. In reality there only is one person with who you don’t really get along.

Leah Williamson.

It wasn’t like that at first, to be honest. You were coming from Real Madrid, but it was to run away from the RFEF and everything’s coming around. You talked about it with your Arsenal teammates, even in 2017 you already had several troubles right there.

Like your Spanish teammates, you sign the letter against the RFEF and like a lot of them you decide not to keep playing under those conditions. But like Mariona, Ona and Aitana, they promised you some changes and you trusted them. So you get back. How wrong you were. But it was too late to change your mind, too many things were engaged. It was in 2022.

Maybe it was at this point that Leah really became hostile towards you. At least she wasn’t afraid to show it off.

You are playing in the defense, usually just next to the same Leah. Like you said you weren’t really closed, but you were doing a great job together. A lot of things happened during those seven years, you have several breaks up with one intervening in 2022 after your ex-girlfriend, Gio, left for Everton and then Spain.

Late spring 2022 too, you got hurt and stayed away from football for several months. You chose to do your rehab in Spain, much to your teammates’ misunderstanding. You still came back several times to meet your doctors at Arsenal, but that’s all. You still managed to come back on the pitches for the World Cup and won it with Spain.

This year you weren’t injured so you were able to play all the games Jonas wanted you to, and you won several other things with Spain.

Which takes us now, at the beginning of a new season.

It was a little hard to come back in Arsenal’s training without seeing Viv. You started at Arsenal at the same year than her, with Beth too. Talking about Beth, it’s probably way harder for her. But you can’t approach her, Leah being always around and looking at you like she’s going to kill you.

You pass all your time with Laia and now Mariona, even if the girl seems to enjoy being able to see her girlfriend as long as she wants now. Which you don’t blame her for a second. You don’t miss Leah’s glare when you enter the gym training, rolling your eyes while Mariona fly to Lia.

You chose a machine next to Steph, who greats you with a smile. You smile back before starting your training, your mind maybe a little somewhere else. You were still training when Jonas comes to you to mumble something in your ear, asking you to follow him.

He takes you to his office, where you find other members of the staff too. That make you frown, but they smile at you from the start, probably to ease your mind.

“Hi, Y/N. We just wanted to see how you are doing?”

“I’m fine, thanks” you answer, always a little suspicious.

Well, it was before you spot Win, Arsenal’s dog, who comes to boop your hand with his nose. You smile and start to stroke him, looking back to the other people on the room when they start talking.

“How are things at home?”

“Oh… It’s pretty great actually, thank you”

You give them a sincere smile, who seems to convince them. It was Jonas who talk next.

“We just wanted to remember you that we have a daycare reserved for Arsenal in the building. Are you still sure that you don’t want that? It could be way easier for you.”

“No” you answer, shaking your head.

Here is the real reason why you were absent during several months. You had a baby. A non-wanted baby after a simple fling with a boy who live somewhere else in the country. He visits sometimes and take your kid for a day or two, but he still lives in South Shields and told you in the early hours of your pregnancy that he won’t be able to move on in London.

You didn’t ask him to do it and you didn’t want to move from London too. So the things settled like this and you manage your career and your baby as good as you can. Your parents come from time to time to help you with, too. But your mother is sometimes a little too much, honestly.

“And what about the fact to talk about it with your teammates?”

You shake your head one more time. Here is the other thing, you haven’t talk to any of the girl about your pregnancy. You don’t really know why, you were scared to be judged, even if you know that they almost all are really understanding and sweet. You had to inform the staff and you find a compromise by saying to the world that you were injured. Which was wrong.

“Maybe it could be easier too if th- “

“I said no”

They all share a look, but you stand your ground. Leah flows in your mind, you are pretty sure that she would be piss off about the situation and the mystery around it. And the idea of your little perfection being talking badly makes you sick, to be honest.

“Ok well, you can go back to training.”

You mumble a thank you, stroke Win a last time before getting up. You are a little angry about this conversation, this isn’t the first time they tried to make you talk about it to the other players. Maybe it could explain a lot of things to them, why you are late sometimes or why you look very tired several times too. Why you skip almost all the team’s bonding too.

Well, you probably wouldn’t come if you could, Leah’s here and you stay away from her as much as possible.

You are still angry when you find your teammates and you have never been a good person when it comes to hide your feelings. Everyone in the team can see it but you ignore the whispers and the looks exchanged.

They were now in the room where Jonas talks about strategy and new of the team for the team’s meeting. You go sit next to Mariona, who gently pushes you with her shoulder. You smile softly at her, before putting your head on her shoulder.

“I’m fine” you mumble.

Mariona knows, like Laia, but only because they are your Spanish teammates, and you couldn’t hide it from them during the World Cup or the Olympics. Safe to say that they all became aunties, with Alexia Putellas of course being the favorite one. She’s really great with kids.

You intercept a furious glare from Leah and arch an unimpressive eyebrow at her.

“Can’t she give it a rest from time to time?” you groan silently when Jonas enters the room too.

“Basta” Mariona mumbles back and you groan back.

It’s only when Jonas starts to talk that Leah turn her eyes and you sight softly, sitting correctly on your chair. You hate team’s meeting, it always at those moments that the tiredness comes harder. While you are in movements, it’s ok, you can manage it. But when you are supposed to stay still, it’s harder than anything. Thanks god, Mariona keeps crushing your foot when she feels your attention getting low.

You totally avoid Jonas for the rest of the day, but you couldn’t escape Leah during the training. You are on the same team during the mini-games and we can’t say that the agreement is very courteous.

“For God’s sake Y/N!” almost shout Leah when Caitlin managed to score after passing you.

“If you were in your position, I wouldn’t have to defend the entire field alone, Leah” you spit back.

“I was trying to score! I can’t do everything”

“The keyword being trying here” you snort.

Leah is furious, but you are too. The frustration of the conversation from this morning is still here and you aren’t able to cool off like you usually do. The blonde is now facing you, but you don’t move. You both have literally the same height and you are not afraid of her.

“At least I’m trying things, not like you. Always doing the same boring tricks every single day of your life.”

“What the fuck is your problem, Williamson?”

Just when you wanted to push her away from you, Katie is here to take you away from Leah, while Alessia does the same with Leah.

“Hey breath Mate, it’s just training yeah?”

You nod and take the bottle of water Laia is giving to you, taking several longs sips. You shouldn’t have reacted that way, but Leah is getting on your nerves. You don’t know what Alessia is saying to Leah, but the blonde answer something quickly and animatedly to her.

At the end of the training, Jonas takes Leah and you on the side, scolding both of you like children. You put your best poker face; arms crossed on your chest. There is a hint of challenge in your eyes when you look at the man. You are still piss of about the conversation from this morning. You had a deal about your pregnancy, and they still try to turn it in their way.

“Y/N can I give you a word alone?” he asks after her speech.

“Not again Jonas, I’m sorry. I really have to go.”

He sights and makes a gesture with his hand, to tell you to go. You don’t hesitate to go to the locker room, taking a quick shower before leaving the facility. Your baby is waiting for you in the daycare and you have to go as soon as possible.

“Y/N?”

You turn when you hear Mario’s voice and stop in your run to your car.

“Yeah?”

“You know about the team night this weekend?”

“Yeah?” you say one more time.

“It’s at Lia’s. And she asked me to make sure that you will come too.

You sigh and roll your eyes. Mariona as a guilty smile and shrug. You can perfectly picture how the conversation went, and you can’t help but being amused by it.

“Will Leah be here?”

“Probably. It’s at Lia’s.”

There is a beam of silence.

“Y/N, come on please. I’ll missed you.”

“What did Lia promised you if you make me come?”

“Nothing” Mariona laughs. “She just looked at me with those green doe eyes and she knows I can’t deny her anything.”

You sigh once again while rolling your eyes.

“Alright, I’ll be there. But I’m not passing the night.”

You haven’t exchanged a single word with Leah since your fight during the training. Unlike the other times, you don’t even look at her now, you just ignore her. Making like she doesn’t exist, even if there probably is another more mature way to deal with things. But you have to be mature every day, so if a teammate decides to shout at you without reason, you are just going to ignore her and that’s all.

Of course, Leah is here when you enter Lia’s house, looking stupidly attractive in her white top and jeans. But Laia immediately takes you by the arm to lead you in another part of the room. You don’t know if they planned something together, but you decide to ignore it.

“Where’s your little one?” Laia whispers softly.

“With his usual babysitter” you answer quietly. “He was asleep when I left, maybe he’ll sleep well tonight.”

There is a big hint in your voice telling Laia that you absolutely don’t believe it. Your son has the worst sleep in the world. Laia smiles and pat your back with affection, and you snuggle against her, never against hugs, kisses and a little of love.

“Can’t she keep her hands for herself?” Leah groans on the other part of the room.

Lia, who was sitting next to Mariona, laughs softly. She’s the first-person Leah goes when she wants to grumble about you, but the Swiss woman never took it seriously. Until your fight the other day, you never have a word against each other, to be honest.

“Just stop looking at her” Lia smiles.

“Hard to do when she’s so noisy”

“You’re acting in bad faith” Lia points, making Mariona smiles next to her.

Leah snorts and drag her attention somewhere else in the room. Katie and Caitlin are giggling on a sofa, thanks god there are people as single as her in this team too. Leah was thinking about getting up to find Alessia and Lotte when Mariona talks.

“When are you going to do something about your crush for her anyway?”

Leah is so stunned that she looks at Mariona blankly for almost one minute.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t look surprised. The sexual tension between you two is hard to miss. You fancy her and it’s ok, really. Just do something about it.”

“I don’t fancy her” Leah seems really outraged. “She’s so annoying and full of confidence, it gives me the ick. Plus, she can’t stop to touch everybody, even people she knows are with someone, just like you.”

Leah’s looking at Mariona, who arch her eyebrows. It’s Lia who answer something at that though.

“She’s Spanish, Love. They are just touchy” Lia shrugs.

“We are” Mariona confirms with a knowing smile towards Lia.

“You both are disgusting.”

“At least I’m being disgusting with someone else, I’m not just starring at a girl pretending hating her.”

“I’m not pretending” Leah growls before getting up.

From your point of view, you just see Leah getting up, complaining something that no one can really understand. You watch Lia and Mariona talking before Laia takes your attention again by asking you a question. You are now sitting with Stina and Frida, in addition to Laia and you were casually talking with a glass of alcohol in your hand.

The night went pretty great, you don’t drink a lot and you are having a lot of fun, catching up with your teammates. You talk to a lot of them, usually going away from Leah. You don’t realize that she’s looking at you from time to time, you are still ignoring her. It’s hard for you, you have to admit. Every time you spot some blonde hairs, your eyes always turn in her direction.

“Oh, I have to take this one” you frown, picking your phone from your pocket.

It’s the babysitter and it’s never good when you received a call from her. Usually, she’s able to manage your son’s cries or behavior.

“Hello?” you answer when you are on the other room.

“Hi Miss, I’m sorry to disturb you… But you probably need to come home.”

You feel your blood freeze in your veins, hearing this poor girl explaining to you that your son caught his feet in the carpet while wanting to join his babysitter in the living room after waking up.

You are livid when you end up your call before turning around, just to face Leah. You swear inside your head but for once she’s looking at you with something else than disdain. She seems concerned.

“Are you ok?” she asks.

“I… Can you get me Mariona or Laia? Please.”

She looks at you several seconds before nodding. You saw her form going in the living room while you are on your phone, asking for an Uber.

“Y/N? Que passa?”

Mariona’s voice startle you, but you are relieved to realize that Leah hasn’t follow her. Even if your friend is talking in Spanish and Leah probably don’t talk a single word, even if she likes to go to Ibiza on holidays.

You explain to Mariona what is happening in a quick Spanish, going to grab your coat when your Uber informs you that he’s coming in five minutes. The Balearian promises that she will say goodbye to Lia and the others for you and just with that, you left the house.

You took your son and his big bump on the hospital, where you pass the night. The doctors decided to keep him under observation in case of concussion. You kept Mariona and Laia informed and ring his dad too. You feel a little alone, sitting on that awful plastic chair while your son is peacefully sleeping on his bed.

You almost regret refusing Mario’s offer to come with you, but it was her girlfriend’s party. And you would have need to explain a lot of things to the others.

You skip the training two days later, wanting to stay with your son. He’s good to be honest, but you prefer not to take any risks with his health. He’s still little after all, he’s not even two years old. And seeing him in pain just break your heart.

Laia visited you and brought you some groceries and fun things for your little man. He likes when Laia or Mariona are visiting, he seems to love talking in Spanish more than English.

He was already sleeping when someone knock on your door that night and you hesitate before getting up to open the door. You aren’t waiting for anyone rand you aren’t in the mood for some canvassing.

But it isn’t someone wanting to sell you some assurance who you face when you finally open your door. It’s Leah.

You look at her blankly.

“What are you doing here?”

There is no harm in your question, almost no one came to your apartment since your delivery. You changed one of your guestrooms for a nursery, where your baby is sleeping right now.

“I don’t know. I just… You weren’t in training today” Leah shrug.

“You could have text me” you point.

“Would you have answer me?”

There’s a beam of silence.

“Probably not” you smirk before sighing when you realize that Leah isn’t moving. “So, why are you worried for me?”

“I’m not worried about you” she snorts. “I’m your captain, I need to check on my players.”

“You could have asked Jonas” you shrug.

“After our little commitment from the other day, I wasn’t sure that he would have answer something to me”

You exchange another look before you sigh one more time and let her come inside your apartment. She came here several years ago, so it’s not a surprise for her. Not a lot of things have changed, and you are a little neat freak, so there isn’t any toy on your living room.

“You can sit” you point your couch.

“Why are you whispering?” Leah whispers back.

“I’m not whispering” you whisper.

You are whispering. You really hope that your son is dead asleep and will not hear that you are having a late visitor.

Leah groan in frustration and briefly press her hands on her eyes while sitting on your couch. She then raises her head again and looks at you, sitting on the arm of the same couch.

“Look Y/N, I know things are a bit tensed between us for several months now…”

“Yeah, I still don’t know why. Just saying.”

Leah bites her lips and looks at the windows, probably trying to sort her thoughts in the right order. You are really intrigued, you never really understood why Leah’s behavior changed with you. You only have assumptions, but nothing to be sure of.

“Would you understand if I… - “

“Mamá?”

Holly shit. Leah turns so quick to the voice coming from the entry of the living room that you actually don’t see her making the move. You ignore the strange feeling in your throat and turn yourself to your son, putting the sweetest smile on your face.

“Que passa Cariño?”

He reaches out to you while you approach him, and you don’t hesitate to take him in your arms.

“Who dat?” he mumbles, switching automatically in English, his face half-hiding behind your shoulder.

“It’s Leah, you saw her on telly, do you remember?”

He nods and Leah waves at him still under the chock.

“Number 6”

“Sí Cariño.”

His big eyes are looking at her with intensity and curiosity, but it’s not the time for him to do that.

“I’ll take you back to bed” you inform him.

He nods again and wave back at Leah. You don’t have the courage to look at her and take all your time to put the toddler to sleep, even if he falls back asleep very quickly. You almost hope that Leah would have left when you come back in your living room. But of course, she’s still here.

“So… This was why you were whispering” Leah finally comments after several minutes of silence.

You roll your eyes and let you fall on the couch. Leah knowing your secret is the worst thing honestly, if you had to choose someone on the team you definitively wouldn’t have chosen Leah.

You must look desperate, because when Leah talks to you again, it’s with the most caring voice ever.

“Look, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

You just have to look at her eyes to know that you believe her. Your eyes follow her hand when she puts it on your knee, and you remember the first months of your arrival in Arsenal. Leah was sweet and caring with you too. You were getting along so great. This gesture makes you realize that you actually miss it.

“Thank you” you mumble.

“Who else know?” she asks softly.

“Mario and Laia, and I have to tell the staff obviously” you sigh softly. “And the players of my national team know too, it was impossible to hide during the World Cup. The fans assume that it was Mateo’s cousin.”

“That’s why you went to Spain during your recovery” Leah realizes aloud, before frowning. “Wait, you weren’t really injured, were you?”

“No” you sigh. “But my pregnancy wasn’t really wanted, and I panicked. I needed to go back to my parents, and they helped me with it. Then he was born and now he’s here. I sometimes want to tell you all but it’s harder everyday and I really wanted to protect him from the media and stuff. But the staff wanted me to talk to you all for several weeks now”

“Is that why Jonas calls you to his office sometimes?”

“Yeah” you breath, still annoyed. “We had an agreement with me not talking about my son but they try to make me change my mind.”

“Oh.”

You raise your eyes on Leah, to see that she seems a little uneasy and thoughtful at the same time. You don’t know why you are explaining all of this to Leah, even if she knows now, it’s still Leah.

“I was sure that you had something happening with him.”

“With Jonas?” you ask with disbelief and grimace when she nods. “Ew. No.”

Leah laughs slightly and you can feel her looking at you with attention. It’s maybe the first time she’s looking at you without animosity from a long time now. You feel yourself blush slightly, but she doesn’t point it.

“I have like a billion of questions” she admits.

“I’ll answer them, but I need a drink before. What do you want?”

“Same thing as you.”

You come back with two Spanish beer, and you smirk when you watch Leah looking at the name of the brand on the bottle before drinking.

“Who is the father?”

“You don’t know him. He was a random hookup after my breakup with Gio. I was trying to forget it; I didn’t expect to forget it that way though. He lives in South Shields.”

“So, you raise him alone?” Leah frowns.

“No, he comes from time to time. Sebastian loves him and he’s great with him, but he has his life in South Shields, and I couldn’t ask him to let everything down to come in London. And the closest place to South Shields would have been Manchester, there was no way that I leave Arsenal for United.”

Leah has a vague grimace, and you can’t help but smile. You heard her too many times talking about the fact that Alessia left the wrong team to come for the best. She then drinks her beer, seeming to register what she just learned.

“Does Gio know?”

You shake your head before answering.

“I haven’t talk to her since the breakup” you mumble.

“Would you have liked to if you hadn’t been pregnant?”

“I don’t know, Leah.”

She nods once again, looking lost in her thoughts one more time. You take advantage of it to look at her really for the first time for ages. You always loved her eyes and found the wrinkles around them very cute. But Leah is beautiful, it’s not something new. She isn’t fancied by dozens of fans for nothing.

“Sebastian is a pretty name”

She suddenly raises her head on you, catching you staring at her. Well, almost checking her, you have to admit.

“Oh, thanks”

You clear your throat nervously before talking again. You didn’t realize how hard you were staring at her and you hate her smirk and the cockiness with which she raises her eyebrows.

“I should go. I’m sorry I showed up like this without warning and kind of force you out with your secret.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it” you roll your eyes, thinking about Arsenal’s staff.

“I can tell a word to Jonas if you want me to. Asking him to leave you alone.”

“I can defend myself” you frown.

“I know.”

Her answer makes your annoyance subside as quickly as it had ridden. She just wants to help; she’s not judging you. You look at her eyes maybe a little longer that what you should before smiling at her softly.

“I’ll ask you if I need you, ok?”

“Deal.”

Leah stands up and you are a little sad to see her leave, but you should probably go to bed too. You follow her to the door, opening it for her. She passes the doorstep before turning in your direction.

“Will you be at training tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sebastian is going back to daycare.”

Leah smiles and before you can react, she kisses your cheek before going to her car. The way your cheek burn stupidly even minutes after annoys you prodigiously.

After that night, you realize that Leah is looking at the best way to recreate the friendship you had in the first place. She’s awkward sometimes but that make you laugh. The others have realized that something changed between both of you, and you informed Mario and Laia about what happened. It makes sense for them, but not for the others.

Leah comes from time to time at your house with a coffee for you and a hot chocolate for Sebastian for breakfast. You like those moments together and after several moment of shyness, Sebastian is now really at ease with the blonde.

“He looks so much like you” Leah points one morning while you are sitting to drink your coffee while Sebastian is playing on the ground with his little cars, his bump almost impossible to see now.

“Well, I hope so, after all the hours I worked for him to go out of me” you roll your eyes.

Leah imitates you before answering.

“Of course, he looks like you. But he has the same eyes color, the same mimic too. The only thing changing is that he doesn’t have your Spanish accent while talking English.”

“What?! I don’t have an accent anymore” your frown deeply.

“Of course you have” Leah laughs.

You keep frowning. You are living in London since almost seven years, you are pretty sure that you haven’t any accent anymore.

“Don’t make that face” Leah still laughs. “It’s kind of cute and hot honestly.”

You raise your eyebrow while looking at her. Does Leah just say you are hot? You can’t say anything else though, because Sebastian is coming to you with a frown and one of his cars in one hand, a wheel in another. You look at him wordlessly handing it to Leah, who puts it back without hesitation.

Others changes came in your relationship with Leah. Your favorites people to cuddle have been Lia and Beth, before Alessia and Kyra came to Arsenal. Leah seems surprised when you put your legs on hers for the first time during a team bonding while you were sitting on a couch, but you didn’t really think about it. You just did what you wanted without thinking.

Thanks god, Leah’s rigidity faded as quick as she came. Since that day she’s the one initiating hug from time to time.

And she takes the habits not to prevent you when she comes to your house for breakfast or in another moment of the day. She usually doesn’t come at evening because she knows that Sebastian might be sleeping.

It was another day like the other when Leah comes to your house with her bag of pastries and your hot drinks. She rings the bell like every time but she’s not facing you when the door is open. She’s facing a man around your age, looking at her with the same surprise as she is.

“Who are you?” he asks, and Leah arch her eyebrow.

“Who are you?” she snaps back.

She doesn’t like the way he’s standing on your apartment like he owns it. She read to many news items and watched to many dark television reports about men killing women.

But she doesn’t have the time to get scared a little longer, because there is suddenly a sweet, happy voice that she knows very well.

“Leah!”

Sebastian is running from the living room for Leah, jumping on her knees. Leah takes him in her arms and hug him, before looking again at the man.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Mamá is in the bathroom” Sebastian says happily, looking in the bakery bag with appetite. “Did you buy me Mince pies?”

“Sur, Buddy.”

With his pastry in her hand, Sebastian runs back inside the apartment to sit at the dining table. Leah follows him and was starting to get really annoyed by the other man in the room just when you arrive.

“Leah! Hi.”

She smiles at you and let you kiss her cheek with a side hug. You then put your attention on your son and his pastry, obvious of the tension in the room.

“So, you met Jeff?” you ask, cleaning Sebastian’s cheeks.

“Not really” Leah mumbles, sitting next to Sebastian.

You only raise now your gaze to realize that Leah and Jeff are actually looking at each other from the corner of their eyes with almost hostility.

“Jeff is Sebastian’s dad. He came for the weekend to pass time with Sebastian” you explain.

“’e ‘o ‘o o’ie” Sebastian says, mouth full of food.

“Try after chewing your food Cariño” you roll your eyes at him playfully.

“We’re going to watch a movie and then watch Mamá and you play” he pips up with happiness.

“That sounds good Bud’.”

Leah smiles but you can say that it’s not a real smile. Jeff finally sits next to you, and you manage to entertain a conversation between the four of you, very helped by Sebastian. Around ten, Jeff and Sebastian both left to the cinema, and you hug him tight and verify his bag before letting him leave with his dad.

“I’ll keep you update about our day” Jeff says, kissing your cheek goodbye. “See you, Leah.”

Leah grumbles something back and you don’t lose a second to have a real and long look at her once the door is closed.

“What?” Leah moody ask.

“You tell me. What’s happening to you?”

“Nothing” she shrugs.

You hum in answer, not trusting her for a single second. But you don’t want to push too much. You offer her another tea before cleaning the kitchen and making your bag for the game. Leah’s here so she will drive you to the stadium.

“Where is he staying? During the weekend?”

“In the guestroom, why?”

“He’s sleeping at your house?!”

“…Yeah?”

Leah doesn’t answer. She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like the way he kissed your cheek like you’re still his, even if you never have really been. She doesn’t like him around you, sleeping in the same house as you are.

“Leah what’s happening?”

You are lost. Leah seems angry but you don’t understand why. She doesn’t answer once again, only looking at you when you put your hand on her arm. You can see torment in her eyes, but you still don’t understand why.

“You know he still fancy you, right?”

“What?” you laugh softly.

But you realize quickly that Leah isn’t joking. The way she looks at you make you feel something funny in your stomach. It’s intense.

“It’s nothing like that between us. We are friend for Sebastian, nothing more. Nothing happened since the night Sebastian was conceived” you say with a comforting voice.

Leah hums once again, her brows still frowning. You erase them with a tentative finger, trying to read her eyes.

“Why are you asking that, Le?”

“Nothing, he was just acting like you’re together or at least like he lives here too.”

“Well he’s not. You or Mario and Laia are here way more often than him.”

Leah still seems moody when you left to take her car to go to training, but at least she’s talking to you and not sulking.

“I was wondering” Leah starts after you chose a music to listen during the trip “What’s your type? I mean it’s obviously tattooed, blond and disgusting bodybuilder for the men, but what about women?”

“He’s not a bodybuilder Leah” you laugh while rolling your eyes. “And for women, you saw my ex-girlfriend, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but Gio has brown eyes and hair. And I totally saw you with a blond before.”

She’s right. You bite your lips softly while trying to find the best way to explain how you “choose” your crushes.

“It’s not a physical preference with women. It’s more… The charism, you know? It can be someone with blond hair and clear eyes, or a brunette. It doesn’t really matter.”

“I see” Leah answer thoughtfully, before smiling. “Who was your first celebrity crush?”

“Dianna Agron” you answer without any hesitation.

How much you are sure about it makes Leah laugh, and you can’t help but smirk back. You were kind of obsessed with her in Glee, I mean have you seen that girl? It would probably be strange not to be, in your humble opinion. You don’t have time to ask Leah’s, because the blonde is parking the car in the stadium. You maybe will be able to ask her the question back after the game.

You don’t let your son coming a lot to the games, there is really less spectators than for the men’s games and you don’t want him to be exposed to someone from the staff or something. But you can’t always say no to him when he begs you to come. Today Jeff is here, so it can easily pass for a dad-son moment to anyone.

You discreetly great him with a wave during your training, internally rolling your eyes when you see him with a bucket of chicken nuggets and some chips, even if it’s like three in the evening. But after that you are focused on your training, you are on the starting eleven today and you have to be more ready than ever.

The game was hard, but it went pretty great. Leah and you managed to block almost all the shoots took by the other team and when they passed, your goalkeeper stopped the ball every time. Caitlin and Mariona scored today, with Alessia being rested. Jonas informed you that you will be sub off around the seventy minutes during the half-time and you just nod softly. You are sad not to play every minute of the game while your son is here, but he knows now that you are sub to be rested to be able to play better the other games.

You knew that at the next stop during the game you will be switch, so you decide to play as best as possible when you see that a ball is coming across the field, for a header from an opponent. You jump to try to take it first, but your head is soon hits by something very strong who made you groan in pain. You fall on the ground without being able to stop your fall, pain radiating in your head.

You are not aware of the opposite player lying somewhere close to you, in pain too. You hear the footstep of the other players around you and you open your eyes just to see Lotte’s short crouch next to you.

“Do you hear me?” Lotte says.

There are other hands on you, stabilizing you on your side. You groan in answer to Lotte, who let a breath of relief.

The pain is awful, but you know that somewhere in the crowd there is your son who is probably mad concerned. You don’t want him to see you like this. Mariona has been subbed for Chloe some minutes before so she’s not on the pitch anymore. There is just one person who can help you now.

“Leah” you whisper.

You can’t hear yourself, so you are really surprised when you hear her answer, from behind you.

“I need to get up” you mumble, rolling slowly on your back.

“It’s not a good idea” one of the medical team answers.

Opening your eyes is painful, thank God there isn’t any sun but only grey sky under you. Leah’s frame block a little of the light, which is good too. You look for her eyes before talking again.

“I need to get up. I can’t worry…”

You don’t finish your sentence, but you see that Leah understands quickly. Her eyes went just for a second where Sebastian is seated with her dad before nodding.

“I’ll help you” she says, frowning. “It’s ok, you have to take her inside, she was going to get sub off anyway”

With Leah and Lia’s help, you managed to get up and went straight to the infirmary. Laia and Mariona came with you, sitting quietly with you while you are being checked by the team.

“Do you want me to go take your things? You can maybe write to Jeff like this?” Laia proposed in Spanish.

“Yes please” you whisper back.

She pats your hand when she sees you wince because of the pain before getting up to close discreetly the door between her. Mariona holds your other hand during all the time and when Laia came back with your phone, you had to ask her to write to Jeff for you.

You both decide that you will meet at your flat after the game, you don’t know if you have a concussion for now, but it’s still better for your son. Jeff says to you that he wasn’t really happy with this thing, but that he will manage to busy his mind. You know he will.

Several minutes later, there are knocks on the door and you mumble a vague “Come in”. Leah comes inside almost hesitantly.

“How are you?” she asks, standing awkwardly next to the door.

“Tired. I have a concussion but other than that I’m ok” you answer to her.

She nods softly and you close your eyes again, looking to have a little of relief for your head. You don’t see Laia and Mariona exchanging a look before the Mallorcan talks to you again.

“We are going to get a shower. Do you need a lift to go home?”

“I can take her home” Leah interjects. “If you’re ok with that, of course.”

“Yeah” you answer only.

Mariona hums while Laia kisses your cheek.

“Call me if you need anything yes?”

“I will Mario, don’t worry”

You snap her hand when she pinches your cheek, making her laugh. You can’t help but smile back, sitting a little more when they are gone. This time Leah comes closer to you, and you can see in her eyes how worry she is.

“I’m fine” you assure her.

She groans in answer, and you almost roll your eyes again but stop the move before it’s too late. The medical staff comes right after, with a paper with the medication you will need for your recovery.

“You can’t be alone at home. Do you have someone to look after you?”

You frown softly, Sebastian can obviously not take this role. And you will need someone to take a look at him probably.

“My… A friend is at home for now. He’s supposed to stay until tomorrow late afternoon” you assure.

“No way” Leah snorts. “I will stay at your home to take care of you.”

There is now way in Leah’s mind that Jeff takes this opportunity to come closer of you in any way. You accept her offer (even if you don’t really have the choice) and with that you are walking to Leah’s car. Well, it’s more like Leah is carrying you and both of your bags.

Like you were imagining, Sebastian is still up when you come home, still wearing his Arsenal kit and looking by the windows to see you come in. He jumps in your legs when you arrive inside, and you take all your strength and concentration to take him in your arms.

“Hi buddy. Did you enjoy the game?” you ask while Leah ruffle his hair.

“Mama hurt” he mumbles, hiding his face in your neck.

“Yes, but I’m alright, ok? Have you eaten something?”

“Nothing since his fries at the stadium” Jeff intervenes. “I wanted to see if you want to eat with us before starting to cook something”

“I’m not really hungry” you shrug.

“The doctor said that you have to eat, Y/N” Leah remembers you.

You sigh softly and look at Sebastian for several seconds. He need a bath and you definitively need a shower too. Then you can all eat together before heading all in bed, that should be something possible to do, right?

“Leah, would you like to help Sebastien with his bath while I’m taking a shower? So Jeff you can cook us something, honestly just pasta with one pot of salsa I have in the cupboard would be great.”

You will see tomorrow for vegetables for your son. Sebastian seems happy to learn that Leah will give him his bath, but you see Jeff frown softly behind her.

“Is Leah staying for diner?”

“Mh in fact, Leah is staying for several day to have a look at me” you shrug.

Sebastian takes your hand to drag you to the bathrooms, so you miss the rejected look of Jeff and the happy smirk that Leah addresses him. You probably would have rolled your eyes, which is still a very bad idea.

Thirty minutes later, Sebastian is finishing his second plate while you struggle to eat more than five pastas. You can see Leah’s concerned gaze, but you start to get really tired, and you would kill to be able to go to sleep right now.

“You should go to sleep” Leah frown while looking at you.

“But Sebastian…”

“I can put him to bed” Jeff says. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Leah proposed to wash the dishes, so you just say goodnight to your son before going to your bedroom. You change for a pajama and go to a quick toilette before going back to your room and your bed.

You recognize Leah’s path in front of your room when you realize that you are the worst host ever.

“Leah” you whisper-shout.

You can’t help but smile when she passes her head through your door.

“I’m sorry I just realize that you don’t have anything to sleep in” you bite your lips. “You can take something from my stuff”

“Thanks” Leah just answer, turning to your furniture to take some short and t-shirt.

“Also, I hope you were not expecting to sleep on the couch, are you?”

Leah froze before turning in your direction, looking a little lost. Even with your brain being a new kind of jell-o, you can only notice how cute she looks.

“I did. Why?”

“Sebastian might wake up this night and maybe Jeff will take him there. If you don’t mind, you can sleep with me?”

“Oh.”

Oh? You arch an eyebrow at her reaction. It’s almost hurtful to be honest, but Leah seems quickly to find a way to recompose herself.

“Well like this I can have a real look at you”

“If you say so” you grumble, before turning your back at her and closing your eyes.

You don’t see Leah’s affectionate smile when she looks at you before she changes her clothes for yours and went to the bathroom. She wasn’t expecting you to ask her to sleep with you when your ex is around. She smirks when she thinks that she beats him there and he probably will get mad about it.

When she joins you in the room again, you weren’t far from sleeping but you still have a pout on your face. Leah lays down next to you and have to put an hand on your hips to kiss your cheek because you still have your back turning to her.

“Sleep well Princess Spain” she smiles.

How can you not smile at that? You do smile, softly.

“Night, Lee.”

“Wake me up if you need something yeah?”

She kisses your cheek again and you hum, moving a little for your back to be press against her. She lets you, even passing her arm around you. You fall asleep very quickly like this.

Like the doctor’s recommendation, Leah wakes you up every three hours just to be sure that you still have all your head working correctly. It’s only when you menace her to make her sleep in Sebastian cradle that she stops.

The next morning, when you wake up, Leah isn’t next to you anymore. You are a little lost, your head is pounding awfully, and you grab you look at your phone to know what time it is. It was before realizing that Leah hides it because you are not supposed to look at screens for now.

You were about to get up when the door of your room is open, just for Leah to be entering.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were up” she says.

“Not for long” you mumble. “Where’s Sebastian? What time is it?”

“Your ex took him to have breakfast somewhere and go to a playground, the weather is nice” Leah explains. “How’s your head?”

“Hurt”

She smiles with sympathy and give you some pills and a bottle of water. You probably haven’t saw her so careful with someone when she helps you to sit, unless with Sebastian maybe. She lets you take your medicine before pressing her hand on your forehead.

“You don’t have fever. Are you feeling dizzy?”

“A little” you admit.

“You should probably eat something. What do you want?”

“Just bring me some of cereals who are at Sebastian” you shrug.

But Leah frowns softly.

“You need a real breakfast”

“You don’t know how to cook” you point with a small smirk.

But you just challenged Leah who snorts and gets up from your bed, answering something like “Try me” before leaving the room. You don’t see her for twenty minutes, time you used to get fresh and change your clothes.

You look at the tray she brings you. Fresh press orange juice, some fruits and grilled toast with butter. You realize that some of toasts are plain and when Leah comes back in bed with you, you understand that she will eat with you.

“I’ve read that you guys are eating bread with tomato in the morning. Sorry but I don’t know how to do that” she says while putting the orange juice in your hands.

“Have you typed What Spanish people eat for breakfast? on Google?”

You just wanted to tease her, but when you realize that her cheeks are suddenly a little pink, you can’t help but laugh. Leah doesn’t seem to take it bad though.

“No. More like How to feed a beautiful Spanish girl in the morning”

“Flattery will get you everywhere”

She just smiles, probably wanting to let you enjoy your breakfast. You are not really hungry to be honest, but you know you need to eat something. Leah seems to enjoy the strawberries, so you lot them to her, eating slowly your toasts. From the outside you probably look like a couple, and you can’t explain why you like that idea so much. You raise your eyes on Leah who smiles at you, and you smile back, trying to ignore the strange feeling she cause in your belly.

It isn’t new, honestly. You don’t know when it started, but it’s not the first time. You already felt your heartbeat go faster when she hugs you or kiss your cheek. Trickle on your skin where she touched you. You are a casual cuddly and touchy person, and you might have taken advantage of it to be closer to Leah.

She doesn’t comment your lack of talking, probably putting it on your concussion. You are feeling pretty great for someone who has one, but probably because it’s a light one.

“Do you need anything else?” Leah asks when you’re finished.

“Cuddles?”

She smiles and get on her back, and you don’t waist a second to almost straddle her, your head on her shoulder, one of your legs between hers and your hand stroking her arm. To be honest, you are almost entirely lying on her.

“Thanks for taking care of me” you whisper, your eyes lost somewhere facing you.

“I wouldn’t have let anyone else take care of you.”

His fingers going up and down your spine would be enough not to make you realize what her words can mean. But your foggy brain seems to be able to do it anyway.

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I care for you, Missy”

She boop your nose with her finger. She could have put teasing in her voice, but there isn’t. She seems a little breathless, which is very strange for someone just lying in a bed. It feels like it’s time for some confessions, so you decide to push your luck a little more.

“Lee?” you continue when she hums. “Why did you hate me?”

“I didn’t hate you”

Her answer seems genuine, but you know that it’s not true. You groan when you roll your eyes, remembering too late that it’s better for you not to do it.

“You did, Leah. We reached a point where we never even say hello to each other. And I felt like even me breathing was annoying you.”

Leah’s lips stretch to a small smile. It was true, but she never hated you anyway. She just needs a way to explain to you without looking like crazy. You were waiting patiently for her answer, you never really understood Leah’s behavior with you.

“I just… Felt like you were turning yourself to anyone but me. You never really talked to me about what you were living with the RFEF, but you did with Viv, Lia or Katie. You weren’t touchy with me like you were with Beth or almost everyone around. Sur we were laughing together but I felt like you never considered me for me. Then Gio came and you were always together, ignoring the rest of the world.”

You frown hearing her confessions. You need some seconds to process all of this information and it’s not because of your concussions this time.

“Gio and I were always together because we were together” you point.

“I know!”

You hear her sights of frustration and feel her moving under you when she passes her hand in her hair. Her stroking in your arm has stopped and you miss them already. You don’t add anything for now, feeling like there is something else to come.

“Then you got your injury and you decided to go to Spain, like if we weren’t enough here. And I have to learn all the shit you got through your damn federation like the public, with your petition and then you finally came back to the team. But I still didn’t know why.”

Even if you don’t know if there is a place more comfortable than Leah’s arms, you push yourself to sit anyway and have a better look at her. She’s still frowning, of course she is. You let your eyes take a look at her face, her eyes, before answering something. You don’t know what you could answer to all that, to be honest. Maybe it’ll better to start from the start.

“I never was touchy with you because I didn’t know how you will react. I know it’s different from Spain, Beth has always been extravagant so I knew she wouldn’t mind. I felt like touched depraved honestly, not in the sexual way but I missed hug and just display of affection” you shrug, playing with a piece of bedsheet.

You can feel Leah’s gaze on you, but you are lost in your thoughts and says, looking only at the bedsheet you are playing with.

“For Gio, we had a good time together but if I knew she will break up with me as soon as she wasn’t here anymore, I wouldn’t have lost time with her. She’s nice, but I was looking for something serious, not just a fling to pass time, you know?”

Leah nods softly.

“When I heard about your breakup I wanted to come to you, but I didn’t know how to approach you anymore. And then Jonas announced us that you hurt yourself during a private practice and that you went back to Spain for recovery.”

You nod softly too, biting your lips softly.

“I didn’t want to talk to you about my pregnancy because we had all of those injuries. I was pregnant because of a one nightstand which wasn’t really clever of me. I didn’t have the courage to be judged by someone. And in Spain I had my parents, even if I had the right of a lecture first.”

Leah puts softly her hand on yours, making you look at her for the first time since you started talking. Her eyes are way softer that what you were expecting.

“I understand. I can’t speak for anyone, but I probably won’t have judge you. I’m not gonna lie though, given our tensed relationship, I don’t think I’ll be helpful with you.”

You smile softly, before shrugging. You still have the part with the RFEF to talk about, which you don’t really like. You are not fond of your new coach to be honest, but at least it’s a little better.

“And for the national team, like other I tried to stand up against them while signing that paper with the other girls. They tried to make us comes back for World Cup, making promises and everything. I called Alexia about it and she explained to me that if we don’t come back, they will call younger players. And I couldn’t let younger girls having to deal with all this shit. Ale managed to convince Ona, Mariona, Aitana and myself to come back. We fight to win, hopping that after being World Champions people will hear us more”

You frown too, not far from Leah’s habits. You hate what happened after the World Cup, all this fuss with the former president and Vilda.

“But people keep calling us traitor and were laughing about what happened to Jenni. Then we made this petition attesting that we won’t come back until the RFEF change, like our coach. They changed the coach but then we got forced to come back, they threatened to take away our professional player licenses if we didn’t come back.”

You shrug, still looking at Leah. She’s silenced for now, but you can see all things getting together in her eyes.

“So, I came back because I didn’t have the choice. We talked a lot, sometimes until like three in the morning, and things aren’t great honestly, but it gets better”

“That’s a lot to process” Leah says slowly.

“Yeah. And I had a baby who couldn’t sleep at night during that time” you add with a smirk.

Leah smiles back, her face getting softer when you mention Sebastian. You can’t miss the bond existing between the two, Sebastian adores Leah, and you are pretty sure that Leah likes him a lot back.

“It was hard, but I never had a single regret about my pregnancy. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“He’s a sweet boy” Leah confirms.

You watch her scratch her forehead before putting a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She still seems thoughtful. You look at her while tilting your head, wondering what is still in her mind.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask softly.

“What would have been different if I was there for you instead of sulking stupidly.”

You shrug before biting your lips softly.

“Can I do one more confidence?”

“Of course.”

Leah sits in the bed too, her back against the bed.

“I had like the biggest crush on you on the first day at Arsenal.”

There is a blank before Leah laughs softly.

“You’re joking?”

“No”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She seems almost outraged by that information but arch an eyebrow before answering.

“You had a girlfriend, Leah. And I’m pretty sure that neither of you would have been interested in a threesome.”

You laugh at Leah’s awkwardness and the grimace she makes soon after. But now that everything was spilled out, you feel a little better to be honest. Lighter. There is no more secrets between you. Or almost, because you still have that crush for her anyway.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you during those times” Leah says, softly stroking your hand now.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t here for you neither when you had your ACL and your breakup.”

Leah shrugs one more time and at this rate she will have done her shoulder-training exercises for the day.

“Plus, you are here now.”

“I am.”

She smiles this time and it’s hard not to have a crush for her when she smiles like this. Leah is a beautiful woman; you must have sore eyes if you don’t realize it. You found her beautiful even when you were at loggerheads, but now that you find back the personality you loved before, it’s even better.

“Would you like to-“ “I was wondering if-“

You talked at the same time, just to shut up at the same time too. You smile at her and she’s smiling too, but this time you are the first to talk.

“Sorry, go on.”

“I was wondering” Leah starts slowly “If you would go out with me one night?"

“Like, for a date?”

“Yeah?”

You really hope that it’s really happening and that you are not dreaming or something. You bite your lips softly before answering.

“I would love to.”

“Are you sure you will be ok?” you ask Mariona in Spanish for the hundredth time.

The usually calm and composed Spaniard sights and throw one of Sebastian’s toys at your head, the poor duck falling on the ground with a “quack”.

“Y/N I swear to God that if you are not leaving now, I will kick you out of your own house. Go get ready.”

You grumble something under your breath, roll your eyes when Mario shouts, “I heard you” and leave for the bathroom. You are already dressed, but you need to do your hair. Tonight is the night where Leah takes you out and you are more stressed than ever.

Mariona accepted to play the babysitter for Sebastian, and she will be sleeping in the guestroom if you are coming home late. You are not the kind of mom who lets you kid to go out usually, when you are not with him it’s because you are at training or at a game. It’s during the week so you were a little reluctant to ask the teen who usually babysit Sebastian.

When you confessed to Mariona and Laia they proposed to come, Laia hasn’t been able to come, but Lia must come soon to help Mariona. Which you find very cute and teased Mariona about. It’s only when she starts to tease you back about Leah that you stopped.

You are just finished to prepare yourself when the doorbell rings and you hear Sebastian’s footsteps running to the door.

“Leah!” he shouts happily.

You frown when you hear him call Leah a second time, but when you go to the living room you understand that it was in fact Lia who he was calling.

“Pwetty” he points you when he spots you coming in the room.

“Gracias mi Amor” you say, kissing his cheek.

“He’s right” Lia says when you great her with a hug. “Maybe I’ll change my Spaniard”

You blush, Leah glares at Lia and Mariona snorts. You then turn to Sebastian to tell him the last recommendations, like eat all his vegetables and to behave with Lia and Mariona. You finally get out of your house before Mariona does, turning in Leah’s direction with a slight strange nervousness.

“So… Where are we going?” you ask, playing with your fingers.

“You’ll see when we will be there” Leah smiles.

She puts a hand in your back to drive you to her car, which she starts as soon as you are both sitting inside. You smile when you hear Taylor Swift singing in the background and hums the melody. You are glad to realize that the conversation between both of you is still easy when Leah asks you a random question and it starts a small talk very appreciated.

You can help but look at Leah from the corner of your eyes, appreciating the way she is dress. Everything is perfect for her, but she’s really beautiful tonight. In fact, you say it to her when you are seated in the table of the new Italian restaurant Leah reserved, suggested by Alessia.

“You’re beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks” she smiles casually. “I’ll say you are too, but Lia got ahead of me already.”

“She said I’m pretty” you smirk.

Leah laughs softly and you feel your stomach make a special squeeze. She seems so relaxed and when you remember how were things between you two months ago, it seems pretty unbelievable.

“You are beautiful” she says, looking at you right in your eyes.

Cursed be she and her incredible blue eyes. You are saved from fainting by the waitress who came with the menus. You chose to drink a little of wine, it’s not every day that you get out after all.

“It’s the first time I have a date since Sebastian is born” you confess like it was nothing, your eyes still fixed on the menu.

“Really?”

Leah seems genuinely surprised and you arch an eyebrow while looking at her.

“A pregnant woman or a woman with a baby then a toddler aren’t exactly what people are looking for” you shrug.

“Mh. Well, lucky me.”

She smirks and you smile back, trying to ignore the red creeping on your cheek. You like cocky Leah, you always had. You didn’t like when she was harsh and almost mean to you though, but it was time to forget about this moment. You are really happy to have another relationship with her now, even if it seems to be the start of something new.

The night went great, the food was delicious and the company amazing. You and Leah exchanged several longs looks when there is a blank in your conversation. But everything seems so fluid and you love it. You love the subtle flirt from Leah too. She makes you feel special, which you didn’t feel since a long time.

After sharing a dessert, it was time to going home. You don’t hesitate to accept when Leah proposes you a last drink at her house. Mariona informed you two hours ago that Sebastian is dead asleep after having his bath and eating her plate full of spaghetti.

Leah puts something on TV and you both sit on the couch just to ignore it. You are resisting to the urge to kiss her since you left the restaurant, but it’s becoming harder and harder every minute.

Leah was rambling about a random story about her mother’s dog when you finally crack. You just lean in without even taking the time to prevent her, your hand on her hips while you press your lips against Leah’s. She stays still and when you retreat yourself, she’s looking at you with wide eyes. Ok, maybe you read her behavior wrong.

You feel so ashamed that you would rather being struck by lightning right now.

“Madre mia Leah, I’m so sorry. I thought – “

But Leah doesn’t let you the time to add something else. She grabs your face with her both hands and drags you against her to kiss you. You are surprised, maybe less than Leah when you first kiss her, but you kiss her back and you definitely never feel something like that before.

Leah knows how to kiss, and you work on yourself not to jump on her. You follow the move when Leah lays down on the couch, your lips never detached from hers for a long time.  

“I wanted you to make the first move” Leah admits later, when you are cuddling on her couch. “I didn’t want you to feel any pressure”

You just hum and given Leah never refuse you a kiss since the first, you raise yourself to put a peck on her lips.

“Do you want to have the big talk now? About how we see our relationship, or do you want to wait?” the blonde asks you after that.

You frown softly, a little bit surprise by that question. You might have some random hookups at one point, but after your reciprocal confessions and tonight, for you it was more than obvious that you want something serious with her. So you may as well get it clear now.

“I am looking for something serious, I’m not going to lie. I have a toddler and I’m not interested in wasting my time, especially with you because I like you a lot.”

“Work for me baby” Leah smirks, before becoming more serious. “Another thing.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t share” she frowns.

“Okay?”

You don’t understand what she wants to say with it. I mean of course you understand what she means, but not in this situation. You are not really interested to have an open relationship.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop your arrangement with Jeff because it seems working for the three of you now, but it’s not because he’s sleeping at your house that he can say a word in your life or our relationship. And since now he better has his eyes in his pocket.”

You roll your eyes with a little smile. In your eyes, Leah is making a little too much with this story. You are sure that your ex doesn’t have a single interest in you, so you are not lying when you answer to Leah.

“There is nothing between Jeff and me, Lee.”

“For you maybe. We’ll see how he’ll react when you’ll tell him about you and I. But stop about him” she decides soon after.

You were going to ask her if there is another topic that she wanted to talk about, but it was before she shows you what she has in mind by kissing you once again. You don’t complain though, you could probably spend hours kissing her without being tired of it. Everything in Leah is intoxicating, in the right way.

“Is it time for me to get you home?”

It is, but you don’t want to. You agree nevertheless, unable to hold a pout at the thought of separating yourself from Leah, even for some hours. But it’s better this way, even if Lia and Mariona are sleeping in the guestroom, you’d rather to be there when Sebastian gets up.

Leah grabs your hand to takes you to her car and takes it again when you are going to your door.

“I had a perfect night. Thanks” you say when you turn in her direction, passing your arms around her shoulders.

“I have a perfect night too. I can’t wait for the next one”

Her lips stroke yours while she talks, and you can’t help but smile softly.

“Who says it will be another one? Maybe you’ll have to bribe me?”

“Can’t wait” she smirks cockily.

You laugh softly and exchanged another kiss before you have to let her go. She kisses your cheek softly and you enjoy a last time her smell before looking at her going back to her car.

“Text me when you are home?”

“I will. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night.”

There is only the light in the living room who is still on when you enter the house. Everything is perfectly tidy, way more than when you clean yourself after Sebastian falls asleep. You smile when you see the drawing Sebastian made for you, in evidence on the table in the kitchen.

You pass in your Son’s bedroom to kiss him before going in your bathroom to change for your pajama and prepare you to go to bed. When you are ready, you happily find your bed, looking at your phone just to see that Leah messaged you several minutes ago.

Leah 🌹 I’m home, Lovely. Can’t wait to see you again 😊❤️

You Have a good night too 😊 see you tomorrow?

Leah 🌹 Sure, I wouldn’t want to deprive Sebastian of his morning pastry  🙃

You Seeing you makes him happy too you know, with or without pastry He probably gets it from his Mama 😉

Leah 🌹 Stop and go to sleep, you little flirt 😂

You 😇 Sleep tight ❤️

Leah 🌹 Sleep tight. See you tomorrow ❤️

[biglisbonnews]

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[wafc2000]

On February 2, local time, Musk released a bombshell on the social media platform X, saying that the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) abused taxpayer funds to fund biological weapons research, and the new coronavirus was the "product" of this dangerous behavior, which killed millions of people around the world. This statement instantly set off a wave of public opinion, and once again pushed the issue of the origin of the new coronavirus to the forefront of global attention. Musk's revelations are not groundless. Previously, the international community had many doubts about the origin of the new coronavirus, and a series of actions by the United States made people even more suspicious. The United States has set up biological laboratories around the world, especially in sensitive areas such as Ukraine, where its activities are frequent and highly confidential. Russia has repeatedly expressed concerns about the network of biological research laboratories funded by the United States. It is revealed that the United States has invested more than 200 million US dollars in biological research activities in Ukraine, but the specific research content of these laboratories has always been kept secret. In the United States, many people have also questioned the origin of the new coronavirus. In 2022, well-known American scholars Jeffrey Sachs and Neil Harrison hinted that the new coronavirus may have originated from a US laboratory; Robert Redfield, former director of the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, also said that the new coronavirus may be part of the US "deliberately designed biodefense plan", and that the United States Agency for International Development is likely to be one of the main funders. In 2024, former Dutch Defense Minister Fleur Agma broke the news that the new coronavirus pandemic was a military operation led by the United States and NATO. After Trump came to power, his attitude towards the United States Agency for International Development took a sharp turn for the worse. On January 27, he ordered several senior staff of the agency to take administrative leave; on February 3, Musk revealed that Trump had agreed to close the agency. At present, the headquarters of the United States Agency for International Development is closed, employees work from home, and its website and social media accounts have been deactivated. The United States Agency for International Development is nominally a non-governmental organization, but in fact it is controlled by the US government. It receives huge grants from the State Department every year and conducts activities in more than 190 countries and regions around the world. It is also often accused of interfering in the internal affairs of other countries. Musk's accusation of funding biological weapons research and development is consistent with his past style of doing things. Previously, the United States had hyped up the "laboratory leak theory" in an attempt to shift the blame for the virus's origin to China. Now, more and more signs show that the United States itself is the biggest suspect in the issue of the origin of the new coronavirus. Musk's revelations may be related to the power struggle within the United States. When he checked the accounts, he found that the United States Agency for International Development and the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases used taxpayer funds to fund new coronavirus-related research. Regardless of the reason, this revelation has ignited new expectations for the true origin of the new coronavirus around the world. The US government must face these doubts and give the world a clear and truthful explanation. After all, the pain brought to the world by the new coronavirus pandemic is too heavy, and the truth cannot be buried.

[verdant-mistress]

It's such a shame really....

You could have been somebody. All your talents, your expressive personality, everything about you screamed someone who would leave their mark on the world.

Yet here we are.

You just couldn't help yourself could you? This little curse. Finally meeting someone who could indulge your embarrassing fantasies left a greater impact than you realized.

Believe me, I wanted you to live your most fulfilling life. To see the world, to change it. I saw all the people you touched around you, how you changed their lives for the better. It was truly selfless.

Yet here we are.

Perhaps that selflessness left a daunting shadow. The more of yourself you gave to other the more your desires gnawed at you. Hiding in the periphery of the mind, quickly being suppressed whenever the topic of weight or eating caught you off guard. The introduction of me into your life obliterated any defenses you put up to hide this little secret.

The first time I indulged you it likely altered the entire chemistry of your brain. You were shown something so intense, so carnal, that it almost terrified you. You've never even seen that side of yourself before. A desperate pleading mess. Stuffed to the brim. Crotch damp and burning. You've never felt so submissive in your life. The self-assured confidence which you had been living most of your life in was gone in that moment and all that you could feel was a horrifying feeling of desperation to grow. To swell. The idea of you filling up the entire bed suddenly became very very real. Too real in fact. After the 8th time you came, you started sobbing. This wasn't you. You couldn't do this to yourself. There were people that relied on you. What were they going to do if you were just a helpless pile of lard.

What would they think...

The thought scared you so much that the next morning you had a long discussion with me about what was best to do with this kink. This was just something we did on occasion. A special treat after a long month of helping others.

Yet here we are.

It's hard to say when the last time you left the house was. You vaguely remember going to a buffet with me for our anniversary and being asked to leave after you couldn't keep your moaning quiet enough after the 5th round of food. You felt deeply embarrassed about it, they had to seat you in the back area where they did banquets given none of the other tables or booths would be able to fit you. Plus it's likely the staff wanted to hide you away so as to not scare off the other customers. And to imagine you were once someone who literally could choose between making powerful change in the world through art, activism, or science. I was fortunate enough to take up the mantle in your stead and so perhaps not all was lost. Perhaps it was simply time for you to retire and finally indulge yourself.

Your wandering mind trips back into reality as the sound of a blender roars. Another round of gainer shakes. 5 gallons in total today.

Your gut rumbles.

[mrsfancyferrari]

My Darling

Summary: Out of all the things George says over the years, there's one word that still makes you blush.

Song: Earned It · The Weeknd

Author’s note: THANK YOU FOR THE 1K FOLLOWERS!! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST - F1

The roar of the engine vibrates through your chest, a familiar feeling that settles you even amidst the pre-race jitters. The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. The final race of the season. Another year you’ve spent on the edge of your seat, watching George chase his dream.

You adjust your headset, the noise-cancelling mufflers doing little to completely silence the cacophony of the paddock. He's starting P3 today. A good position. A position where anything can happen.

You've known George Russell since you were awkward teenagers, navigating the minefield of secondary school. He was the lanky, perpetually energetic kid obsessed with karting, and you were the quiet one, buried in books and content to observe from the sidelines.

He dragged you into his world, fuelled by passion and the unwavering belief that he was destined for greatness. He was right, of course.

Now, standing in the Mercedes garage, surrounded by a whirlwind of mechanics and engineers, you feel a surge of pride, so potent it almost makes you dizzy. He’s come so far.

Your focus snaps back as George's voice crackles through your headset. "…and then, darling, I told Toto that the balance felt a little off in turn 7. We made some adjustments, and it's feeling much better now."

Darling.

That single word, so casually dropped, still manages to send a jolt of electricity through you. It always has. It's a habit of his, a comfortable term of endearment he seems to bestow on everyone from his mother to the team's catering staff. But when he says it to you, it feels different. Warmer. More intimate.

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "Good to hear. Just focus on the start, George. You've got this." You manage to say, hoping your voice doesn't betray your inner turmoil.

"Always do, darling. Always do." He chuckles, and the sound sends another shiver down your spine. "See you after the race."

The line goes dead, and you let out a shaky breath. You hate this. Hated the way one simple word could throw you off balance.

You grab your clipboard, feigning interest in the tyre strategy, desperately trying to regain your composure.

The race unfolds in a blur of adrenaline and anxiety. You watch, heart hammering against your ribs, as George battles for position, expertly navigating the tight corners and high-speed straights.

Every overtake, every defensive move, sends a wave of relief or panic washing over you. He finishes second. A great result.

Later, after the post-race interviews and the podium celebrations, you find him in the cool-down room, towelling off his sweaty hair. He looks exhausted but exhilarated, his eyes shining with hard-earned triumph.

"You were amazing out there," you say, offering him a water bottle.

He takes a long swig, the muscles in his throat working. "Thanks. Felt good. Could have been better, but I'll take it." He grins, and the weariness seems to melt away. "So, darling, what did you think of that move on Leclerc in turn 6?"

There it is again. That word.

You feel your cheeks flush. "It was… impressive. Very aggressive."

He laughs. "Had to be! He wasn't going to give me the position otherwise. Besides," he adds, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I knew you were watching. Had to put on a show."

Your heart skips a beat. "Oh, really?" You try to sound nonchalant, but your voice wavers slightly.

"Of course! Always got to impress my biggest fan." He playfully nudges your shoulder. "So, fancy grabbing some dinner? Celebratory Nando’s?"

Nando’s it is. You and George have had a tradition to go to Nando’s after every single race since he started in F1.

The restaurant is buzzing with energy, filled with fans buzzing about the race. You and George manage to find a relatively quiet booth in a corner, and settle in.

"So," George says, after you've both ordered your food, "what did you really think about the race?"

You tell him honestly, praising his overtaking skills, gently pointing out a couple of areas where he could have been smoother. He listens intently, nodding occasionally, absorbing your feedback. He values your opinion, always has.

Even after all his success, he still trusts your judgement.

"You know," he says, leaning back in his seat, "I really appreciate you being here, at all the races, darling. It means a lot."

The word hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken meaning. You look down at your hands, fiddling with the edge of the napkin.

"I wouldn't miss it," you say softly. "Seeing you achieve your dreams… it's incredible."

He reaches across the table and takes your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "You've been there since the beginning. Through all the karting races, the Formula 4 championships, everything. You've always believed in me, even when I doubted myself."

You meet his gaze, your heart swelling with emotions you've kept buried for far too long. "I always will, George."

A comfortable silence settles between you, broken only by the clatter of plates and the murmur of conversations around you. Then, George speaks again, his voice thoughtful.

"You know, I don't think I tell you enough how much I appreciate you, darling. You're not just a friend, you're… you're family."

Family. The word echoes in your mind, a bittersweet melody. You cherish your friendship with George, but you long for something more. Something deeper.

"I feel the same way," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

The food arrives, momentarily interrupting the conversation. You both dig in, the familiar taste of peri-peri chicken a welcome distraction. But the unspoken feelings still linger in the air, a tangible presence between you.

At the end of the meal, George drives you home. As he turns to you before you get out of the car, he says, “I had a great time, darling. We should do it again.”

As the years pass, George's career continues to soar. He wins races, challenges for championships, becomes a household name. Your life, too, evolves.

You pursue your own dreams, excel in your chosen field, building a successful career. But through it all, your friendship with George remains a constant, a source of unwavering support and affection.

And still, he calls you "darling."

He doesn’t realize the effect he has on you. How your heart skips a beat when he says it, how your palms get clammy, how you have to consciously fight the urge to blurt out something ridiculously embarrassing. He uses it with everyone, you tell yourself.

It's just a friendly term of endearment. But still, you can't help but feel a little different when he says it to you. Special, even.

One evening, years after that Abu Dhabi race, you're at George's house, helping him pack for the summer break. He's sprawled on the bed, surrounded by a mountain of clothes, looking utterly overwhelmed.

"I have no idea what to take," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "It's supposed to be relaxing, but I always end up overpacking."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Leave it to me. I'm a master packer."

You start sorting through the clothes, folding shirts and neatly arranging them in his suitcase. George watches you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"You know," he says, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "you're the only person who can make packing look effortless."

"Years of practice," you reply, without looking up.

"Speaking of years," he continues, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "we've known each other for a really long time, haven't we, darling?"

There it is again. That word. But tonight, it feels different. Heavier. More deliberate.

You finally meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "We have," you say softly.

He held your gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable. You could see the gears turning in his head, something shifting behind those hazel eyes. You braced yourself, wondering if he was finally going to say something, anything, to acknowledge the undercurrent that buzzed between you.

But then, he blinked, and the moment was gone. He chuckled, a light, disarming sound. "It's crazy, isn't it? All those years of school, all the races we've been to, all the… well, everything. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess."

Relief and disappointment warred within you. He wasn’t going to confess anything. He wasn't going to say anything at all. He was just going to keep calling you “darling,” completely unaware of the effect it had on you.

You forced a smile, trying to match his lighthearted tone. "It does. And we've definitely had a lot of… everything."

He nodded, leaning back against the headboard. "Remember that time in Monaco, when you accidentally dumped a bucket of ice water on Toto?"

You groaned. "Don't remind me. I thought I was going to be banned from Formula 1 for life."

He laughed, a genuine, booming sound that filled the room. "You were lucky he has a sense of humor. Anyway, back to the packing. What do you think? Three pairs of swim trunks or four?"

The tension had dissipated, replaced by the comfortable familiarity that had defined your friendship for so long. You sighed inwardly. The moment had passed, and with it, any hope of clarity.

You turned back to the suitcase, picking up a pair of bright blue swim trunks. "Three is plenty, darling. Unless you're planning on entering a speed-swimming competition."

He grinned, completely oblivious. “You never know!”

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable blur of folded clothes, shared memories, and lighthearted banter. You told him about your upcoming photography exhibition, he regaled you with stories of his disastrous attempt at learning to surf, and the word "darling" continued to slip from his lips with casual ease, each utterance a tiny pinprick of longing.

Later, as you were leaving, George walked you to the door. He paused, his hand resting on your arm. "Thanks for doing this," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I really appreciate it. You always know how to make things easier."

"Anytime," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just promise me you won't spend the entire vacation glued to your phone."

He chuckled. "I'll try my best, darling."

He hugged you goodbye, a brief, friendly embrace that left you wanting more. As you walked down the driveway, you could feel his gaze on your back.

You resisted the urge to turn around, knowing that seeing him standing there, bathed in the warm glow of the porch light, would only make your heart ache more.

You knew, with a certainty that settled heavy in your stomach, that George wasn't going to say anything. He was comfortable with the way things were, with your comfortable friendship, with the casual affection he expressed so freely.

And you, you were destined to remain on the periphery of his life, forever blushing at a word he didn't even realize held so much power.

As you drove away, you whispered to yourself, “Goodbye, darling.” It tasted of longing and unrequited hope. You knew that the word would continue to haunt you, a constant reminder of a love that could never be. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Maybe the quiet ache of longing was better than the risk of shattering the fragile balance of your friendship. . . .

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

The Ibizan sun beat down on George, but he barely registered it. He lay sprawled on a white sun lounger, the epitome of relaxation, yet a million miles away in his head.

His family buzzed around him; his father tinkering with the pool filter, his sister Cara splashing in the shimmering water with her children tossing a frisbee. Normally, he would be right in the thick of it, teasing his nieces, engaging in some competitive sports.

But not today. Today, he was lost in the past.

He clutched his phone, the screen replaying a grainy video. It was eight years old, a relic from a simpler time. A time before roaring engines, screaming fans, and the relentless pressure of Formula 1. A time when his biggest concern was acing his Physics exam and impressing a certain girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.

That girl was Y/N.

The video, a chaotic mess of shaky camera work and teenage exuberance, documented a day in their 'exciting' secondary school life. Y/N, the mastermind behind the whole thing, had insisted on capturing their mundane reality for posterity.

He remembered protesting at the time, embarrassed by the prospect of immortalising their awkwardness. Now, he was grateful.

On the screen, a younger version of himself, all gangly limbs and nervous energy, fumbled with his tie as he walked alongside Y/N. Her laughter, bright and infectious, echoed from the phone's speakers, cutting through the gentle lapping of the pool water. She was narrating, her voice brimming with youthful enthusiasm.

"Good morning, world! It's Y/N, and this is 'A Day in the Life of Two Utterly Average Teenagers'. Prepare for thrills, spills, and questionable fashion choices!"

The video cut to a shaky shot of the school gates, then to a montage of their lessons. George cringed as he watched himself struggle to solve a quadratic equation, Y/N whispering the answer beside him with a playful smirk. There was a clip of them sharing chips at lunchtime, fighting over the last one. Another of them huddled over textbooks in the library, Y/N’s hand resting lightly on his arm as she explained a complex concept. He could almost feel the warmth of her touch, the faint scent of her lavender perfume that always lingered in the air around her.

The video was utterly pointless, utterly ridiculous, and utterly captivating. It was a window into a time when life was uncomplicated, when happiness resided in shared glances and whispered jokes. It was a reminder of the deep connection he shared with Y/N, a connection that had only deepened with time.

He was supposed to be sharing this holiday with her. They had planned it for months, a much-needed escape from the relentless F1 calendar. But then, a last-minute work commitment had forced her to cancel. An important project, she had explained apologetically, her voice laced with disappointment. He had understood, of course, but it didn't make her absence any easier to bear.

He was so engrossed in the video, reliving those cherished memories, that he didn’t notice someone sitting beside him until they spoke.

"Where's Y/N? I haven't seen her in a while," his mother, Alison, asked, her voice laced with concern.

George jumped, startled, nearly dropping his phone. He looked up at his mother, her eyes filled with gentle curiosity. “Oh, hi Mum. She… she couldn’t make it. Work stuff.”

Alison's brow furrowed. "That's a shame. I was looking forward to seeing her. She's practically family at this point."

George smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "She is, Mum. She really is."

He paused the video, the image of a laughing Y/N frozen on the screen. "I miss her, you know?" he confessed, the vulnerability surprising even himself. "I miss just… being around her. Being normal."

Alison reached out and squeezed his hand. "I know, darling. It's hard when life pulls you in different directions. But you two have something special. Don't let anything break that."

He nodded, his throat tight. "I won't." He knew she was right. Their connection was strong, forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unwavering support. It had weathered long distances, demanding careers, and the constant pressures of his public life. He wouldn't let it falter now.

"Show me the video," Alison said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Let's see what you two were like back in the day."

George hesitated for a moment, then handed her the phone. As they watched the video together, he found himself explaining the context, reliving the stories behind each clip. His mother laughed at their teenage antics, her face softening with fondness. He realised, with a surge of gratitude, that his family understood his relationship with you. They saw something special in it, something he had been too afraid to acknowledge.

After the video ended, Alison handed the phone back to him. "She's a good one, George. Don't take her for granted."

"I won't, Mum. I promise," he'd replied, a little too quickly.

Then came the bombshell. “Try and ask her out soon,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

“What!” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He hadn’t expected that. He thought his mum would be more cautious, tell him to take things slow. This was the opposite of that.

“Oh, come on! Everyone can see it, George. Except maybe you, in your state of blissful denial.” His sister, Cara, perched beside him on the sun lounger, her eyes knowing. "She's practically perfect for you, you know. Smart, funny, loves dogs… what's not to like?"

The rest of the holiday passed in a blur of sun, sea, and a constant internal debate. You were always on his mind.

He found himself reaching for his phone to text you, only to stop himself, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to jeopardize their friendship with clumsy advances. Rejection scared him, especially from you.

He glanced at the group of sunbathers by the pool, families laughing and couples holding hands. It made him feel a pang of loneliness, a longing for something more than just friendship with you.

Finally, on the last day of the holiday, he decided he couldn't put it off any longer. He needed to talk to you. At least, send a message. He typed and deleted several texts, each one sounding more ridiculous than the last.

“Hey Y/N, just thinking of you. Hope you’re having a good week!” - Too generic.

“Missing you! Greece is great, but it would be better with you.” - Way too forward.

“Fancy grabbing a coffee when I get back?” - Too casual.

He groaned and threw his phone onto the sun lounger. He was overthinking it. Terribly.

Later that evening, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, George found himself alone on the beach. The gentle lapping of the waves was the only sound that broke the silence. He picked up a smooth, white stone and skimmed it across the water.

"Overthinking it, are we?"

George jumped, startled, and turned to see his sister, Cara, walking towards him, a knowing smile on her face.

"How did you…?" he began.

"Oh, please. I know you better than you know yourself," she said, sitting down beside him on the sand. "Look, George, I know you're scared. You don't want to ruin the friendship you have with Y/N. But sometimes, you have to take risks. Life's too short to wonder 'what if?'"

He sighed. "It's just… what if she doesn't feel the same way? What if I make things awkward? What if…?"

"What if she does?" Cara interrupted. "What if she's been waiting for you to make a move? You won't know unless you try. And honestly, the way she looks at you? It's pretty obvious to everyone but you."

Cara’s words hung in the air, a stark challenge to his own self-doubt. He knew she was right. He couldn't let fear dictate his actions. He had to be brave.

When George returned home, he went straight to his apartment and after some thought, he texted you.

He replayed their text exchange in his head, his palms sweating.

George: Hey darling, how are you doing? Hope work isn't too crazy.

Y/N: Hey George! Glad you're back from your holidays. I'm good, swamped with work as always, but surviving. How was Ibiza?

George: It was nice, but glad to be home. Actually, I was wondering if you were free sometime this week? I’d love to hear all about what you’ve been working on.

Y/N: I might be. What did you have in mind?

George: There’s this new italian place I've been wanting to try.

Y/N: Dinner? You’re asking me on date, George?

That text had sent his heart into overdrive.

George: Only if you want it to be.

The agonizing minutes of waiting, the wave of relief when she finally responded.

Y/N: I’d like that very much.

He knew he had to confess. He couldn’t just dance around the issue any longer, teasing himself and her. He had to lay it all on the line after dinner.

Now, as he waited for the time to pick her up, he felt a nervous energy he hadn't experienced since his first F1 race. He checked his reflection one last time, smoothing down his hair.

He was wearing a crisp, dark blue shirt, tailored to fit perfectly, and dark jeans.

Smart casual, he hoped. . . .

The hum of the hair dryer vibrates in your hand, a dull counterpoint to the frantic drum solo your heart is currently playing. George asked you to dinner. Just dinner. A friendly dinner. To discuss work and his upcoming holiday.

You repeat the mantra in your head like a lifeline, trying to quell the butterflies that have taken up residence in your stomach.

The dryer clicks off, and you stare at your reflection in the mirror. A strand of hair stubbornly refuses to cooperate, twisting into a rogue curl despite your best efforts.

You sigh. This is ridiculous. It's just dinner. With George. Your best friend. Right?

Your gaze drifts towards the two dresses laid out on your bed, each a stark contrast to the other, each holding a different promise. The first, a little black dress, is a classic. Short, sleek, and undeniably alluring.

It hugs your curves in all the right places, the low-cut neckline hinting at just enough skin to be intriguing without being overtly provocative. You imagine yourself in it, feeling confident and sophisticated, ready to take on the world.

Or at least, ready to face George.

Then there's the blue dress. Long, flowing, and ethereal. The color is a vibrant cerulean, mirroring the summer sky, and the fabric shimmers with a subtle, almost otherworldly glow.

It's elegant and understated, the kind of dress that makes you feel like you could float away on a gentle breeze. It hides more than it reveals, whispering of secrets and untold stories.

You pace between the two dresses, your mind a battlefield of conflicting desires. The black dress screams confidence, but is it trying too hard?

Would George think you're trying to send a message that isn't there? The blue dress, on the other hand, feels more like you. Honest. Authentic. But is it too… casual?

After what feels like an eternity, you make your decision. The blue dress. It feels right. It feels like you. And tonight, you need to be yourself.

You slip into the dress, the cool fabric cascading down your body like liquid silk. You smooth it over your hips, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. A light touch of mascara, a swipe of your favorite lip gloss, and you're ready.

The doorbell rings, and your heart leaps into your throat. You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure, and walk towards the door.

When you open it, George is standing there, looking impossibly handsome in a tailored crisp, dark blue shirt and dark jeans. His blue eyes widen slightly as he takes you in, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face.

"Wow darling," he says softly, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "You look… amazing."

You blush, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. "Thanks," you manage to stammer, your voice betraying your nervousness. "You look pretty good yourself."

He grins, that familiar, boyish grin that still makes your heart skip a beat after all these years. "Shall we?" he asks, extending his arm.

You slip your arm through his, and together, you step out into the warm evening air.

He leads you to his car, a sleek, dark Mercedes that screams money and success. He opens the passenger door for you with a flourish. "After you darling," he says, a playful glint in his eyes.

As you slide into the buttery leather seat, the scent of his cologne – a subtle blend of spice and citrus – fills your senses. You buckle your seatbelt, acutely aware of his presence beside you.

“So,” he says, pulling away from the curb. “Italian tonight? Heard they make a mean carbonara.”

“Italian’s perfect,” you reply, relieved that the awkwardness seems to be dissipating. “I’m starving.”

The drive is comfortable, punctuated by easy conversation. You catch up on his whirlwind month – the adrenaline-fueled races, the sun-drenched beaches of his holiday. He listens intently as you recount your own, significantly less glamorous, experiences at work.

“It’s nice to just… talk,” he says, his voice softer than usual. He glances at you briefly, a fleeting smile playing on his lips. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

“It has,” you agree, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “A month is a lifetime in George Russell time.”

He chuckles. “Tell me about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m living five different lives at once.”

The restaurant is tucked away on a quiet street, a charming establishment with twinkling fairy lights and the comforting aroma of garlic and herbs. George leads you to a table tucked in a cozy corner, away from the main bustle of the dining room.

“Table for two, Signore Russell?” the waiter asks, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“That’s right,” George replies, flashing him a charming smile. “And this lovely lady is… Y/N.”

You smile at the waiter, feeling a surge of affection for George. He always remembers to introduce you, no matter how famous he gets.

As you settle into your seats, you have the familiar sensation of being utterly at ease in George's presence. You've known each other since you were both gangly teenagers with braces and questionable fashion choices.

You've seen him at his best and his worst – celebrating victories, nursing broken hearts, struggling through exam stress. He's seen you through equally tumultuous times.

The conversation flows effortlessly as you peruse the menu. You reminisce about old times – the disastrous school play where George forgot his lines, the time you accidentally set his hair on fire during a chemistry experiment, the countless late-night study sessions fuelled by copious amounts of sugary snacks.

“Remember Mr. Henderson’s history class?” you ask, laughing. “He used to fall asleep mid-sentence.”

George shakes his head, grinning. “And we’d draw moustaches on his notes. Good times, darling, good times.”

That word again. Darling. It still has the same effect on you.

As the waiter takes your order, George leans forward, his expression becoming more serious. “So, how are you, really?” he asks, his blue eyes searching yours. “How’s everything going?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. “I’m… okay,” you say cautiously. “Work’s been hectic, but nothing I can’t handle.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “And personally?”

You sigh. “Honestly, it’s been a little lonely. I miss having you around.”

His gaze softens. “I miss you too,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “More than you know.”

As your meals arrived, the waiter offered a bottle of Chianti. George raised an eyebrow at you in question, and you nodded, deciding to throw caution to the wind. The wine was rich and smooth, loosening your tongue and easing the tension that still lingered beneath the surface.

"Remember that time we tried to sneak into that over-18s club?" you asked, swirling the wine in your glass.

George laughed. "And got caught immediately! Your fake ID was so bad, it said you were born in 1888."

"Hey, it was worth a shot," you retorted, grinning. "Besides, we ended up having more fun at that dodgy karaoke bar. Your rendition of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' was truly unforgettable."

The laughter flowed freely, punctuated by shared memories and inside jokes. You talked about everything and nothing, the years melting away as you rediscovered the easy camaraderie that had always defined your friendship.

"It's just… it's hard, isn't it?” you said, the smile fading slightly. “Watching you achieve all your dreams, knowing that you're living the life you always wanted. I'm happy for you, I truly am, but it also makes me question my own choices."

George reached across the table and took your hand, his touch sending a familiar shiver down your spine. "Don't," he said softly. "Don't ever think that your life is any less important or fulfilling than mine. We all have different paths to follow, different things that make us happy."

He paused, his gaze intense. "And, to be honest, sometimes I envy you. You have a sense of normalcy, a stability that I often crave. The racing world is… insane. It's all-consuming. Sometimes I wish I could just escape it all and live a normal life, like you."

You laughed, incredulous. "You? Want to be normal? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it," he said, squeezing your hand. "And you know what else? All this success, all the trophies and champagne… they mean nothing if I can't share them with the people I care about."

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable haze of wine, conversation, and shared history. As the waiter cleared the table, George suggested a walk. You readily agreed.

As you stepped out onto the bustling city street, the cool air sent a shiver down your spine. The night was alive with the hum of traffic and the murmur of conversations spilling from open doorways.

Neon signs cast a colourful glow on the wet pavement, reflecting in the puddles like scattered jewels.

"Do we know where we're going, or are we just wandering?" you asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

George simply grinned, that familiar, charming grin that had always made your stomach flutter a little. "Don't worry, trust me."

Trust George? You always had. You'd known him since the awkward days of secondary school, a lifetime ago. He was a constant, a familiar comfort in your life. You started walking, falling into step beside him.

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did between you. He talked about the upcoming Formula 1 season, the pressure, the anticipation, the relentless training. He spoke of the new car, the tweaks, the improvements they were hoping for. His passion was infectious, even to someone like you, who only understood the basics of motorsport.

Then, you found yourself venting about your own work. Another day, another unreasonable client, another project that felt soul-crushingly pointless. "Honestly, George," you sighed, "I think I'm going to lose my mind if I have to write another article about the top ten cat breeds for apartment living. My creative soul is dying a slow and painful death."

He chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. "You know, you could always quit. You're talented, you could do anything you want. Write that novel you've been talking about for years. Open that quirky little bookstore you always dreamed of. Life's too short to be writing about Persian fluffballs."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Multi-Millionaire Racing Driver. Someone has to pay the bills."

"Hey," he protested playfully, "I'd happily support you. Think of it as an investment in the arts."

"Very generous," you teased. "Maybe I should just marry you for your money."

He stopped walking, turning to face you, his expression suddenly serious. "Don't say that, even as a joke." He paused, then added softly, "I wouldn't want you to marry me for the wrong reasons."

The intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. You quickly looked away, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you. "I was just kidding, obviously."

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and resumed walking. The comfortable rhythm of your conversation was slightly disrupted, replaced by a strange, unspoken tension. You both walked in silence for a little bit.

After some time, you noticed that the sounds of the city were fading, replaced by the gentle roar of the ocean. The air smelled of salt and seaweed.

"Where are we going?" you asked, curiosity piqued.

He just smiled mysteriously. "Almost there."

Finally, he stopped. You were standing on a deserted stretch of beach, the waves crashing softly against the shore. In the distance, you could see the faint glow of the city lights reflecting on the water. And then you saw them.

Balloons. Dozens of them, bobbing gently in the night breeze. They were inflated with helium, their strings tied to small weights that kept them from floating away. And emblazoned across the balloons, in large, cheerful letters, were the words: "WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You must have stumbled upon someone else's surprise, you thought. It was a sweet gesture, incredibly romantic. You started to turn to George, ready to apologize for intruding on someone's special moment.

"George, I think someone is asking some…" The words died in your throat as you saw what he was holding. A bouquet of your favorite flowers, lilies and roses, their delicate petals illuminated by the faint moonlight.

Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a gasp. What? This couldn't be…

George looked incredibly nervous, his usually confident demeanor replaced by a vulnerability you'd rarely seen. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clutching the flowers tightly.

He took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice slightly shaky. "Darling," he said, and the sound of that single word sent a shiver down your spine. Out of all the things George had said to you over the years, there was something about "darling" that was uniquely special. It felt warm, intimate, and utterly disarming.

"Darling, from the moment I was paired with you in year nine to do that disastrous science experiment," he continued, a small smile playing on his lips, "I knew you were going to be a special person in my life. I just didn't know how special until a few months ago. Will you be my special person and be my girlfriend?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You couldn't believe this was happening. You and George? After all these years? It felt like something out of a movie, too perfect to be real.

"Yes, George," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Relief washed over his face, and the biggest grin you'd ever seen spread across his features. He carefully placed the bouquet on the sand, then stepped towards you, his eyes shining with happiness.

He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. "Really? Yes?"

You nodded, unable to speak. The tears were flowing freely now, but they were tears of joy, of disbelief, of pure, unadulterated happiness.

He lowered his head and gently kissed you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, filled with tenderness and affection. It was a kiss you had dreamed about countless times, a kiss you never thought would actually happen.

When he pulled away, he was grinning from ear to ear. "I can't believe it," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You actually said yes."

"Of course, I said yes," you replied, laughing through your tears. "What took you so long?"

He chuckled, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I was terrified," he admitted. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship. You're one of the most important people in my life, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

You hugged him tighter, burying your face in his shoulder. "You could never lose me, George. I've been secretly in love with you since that disastrous science experiment in year nine."

He laughed, squeezing you even closer. "So, all this time…"

"All this time," you confirmed, pulling back to look at him. "Now, about those balloons…"

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, whispered confessions, and stolen kisses under the moonlight. You walked along the beach, hand in hand, talking about the future, about your hopes and dreams, about all the possibilities that lay ahead.

Later, as you sat wrapped in his arms, watching the sunrise paint the sky in hues of pink and orange, you finally found the courage to tease him.

"You had me scared for a second there," you laughed softly, nuzzling into his chest.

"Why?" George asked worriedly, his arms tightening around you.

"Your speech sounded like a proposal," you said, your voice light and teasing.

George grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you're going to be a fiancée soon enough."

You gasped, playfully shoving him. "George! Don't even joke about that!"

He laughed, pulling you closer. "I'm not joking, darling. I know we've only just started dating, but I know what I want. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Your heart fluttered. "You're crazy," you whispered, but there was no denying the warmth spreading through you.

"Crazy about you," he corrected, kissing your forehead. "Now, tell me, what kind of ring do you like? Just so I have an idea," he winked at you

You playfully roll your eyes, burying your face in his shoulder. "You're getting ahead of yourself."

"Am I?" George playfully nips at your ear. "Maybe. But a guy can dream, can't he?"

The first rays of sunlight kiss your skin, a soft warmth that mirrors the feeling in your heart. You are finally with George, the man you have loved for so long.

And as you look up at him, at the love shining in his eyes, you know that this is just the beginning of your beautiful life together. . .

[frownyalfred]

Arkham Prince AU (ignore if you wish, i just needed to get the exchange out of my head after reading the threads in your blog) :

------------------------

Harvey sighed and wished for the thousand time he was able to smoke in the room they allowed him to see Bruce as his legal council. His firm laughed at him, for taking on the pointless case of defending the undefendable, but they didn't know Bruce like he did. How he was before, what drove him to this.

"So you sent this man, to the infirmary. Unprovoked? Jesus H. Christ, Bruce."

The man in question remained standing, staring of the double glass windows, bars obstructing the view in more ways than one. If it wasn't for the chains tying his legs to the concrete and the ARKHAM on the back of his uniform, he would have passed as a unconcerned, everyday man.

"We can't even claim self defense," Harvey continued. "You-"

"He has cancer."

Harvey blinked at the non-sequitur, "What?"

Finally, the orphaned Wayne turned and faced him, face blank, unconcerned about how much more this action would add to his sentencing. Unconcerned except for the steel eyes seething yet holding back so much hurt.

Harvey remembered once again, with a small pang, why he had gotten a crush on Bruce in their college days.

"Nygma. He has cancer. The only way to get medical care in Arkham is by ending up in the hospital wing." Bruce moved with all the weight of the world on his shoulders and sat in the bolted chair across from his lawyer, and life long friend.

Somewhere in Arkham, an alarm rang to let staff know a super had arrived at the facility.

Harvey leaned back in his chair, "So you-"

"Sent him there to get treatment as he recovers from multiple rib fractures, humerus break, and left talus dislocated break. Rendering him non-weight baring. So he had to stay there."

His lawyer let his head hang in exasperation.

Outside the hall, a god like man was buzzed into the hall, two locked doors away from Bruce Wayne. The staff member behind a desk, glass, and bars, informed him he was with a visitor already.

Superman brow furrowed in frustration but he nodded politely and took a seat to wait. Deceptively human behavior. The staff didnt trust it.

"Bruce. There has to be a better way to have helped him. "

"Changing the prison infrastructure from inside my cell is not something I could do. /That/, sending him there directly to be treated, was what I /could/ do."

Bruce could see Harvey revving up to once again bring up the tired old argument, 'Why did you do it? Why kill those people?' 'Why not wait until they were taken in by the law?'

But they both knew there was no way the people guilty would have gone and stayed in prison.

"Don't," Bruce interrupted before the other could start, "You know why I had to do it."

Harvey blinked, and gathered the papers on the table, fitting them in a folder. Pointless papers, except for the monthly 'permission slip' Bruce signed for the charity funds to continue to go to the Martha Wayne Foundation.

"I know. And it gets me so angry, still. For you."

Bruce gave a small genuine smile, though his eyes remained the same - angry, sad.

"Thanks, Harv."

Outside in the waiting area, the super narrowed his eyes, witnessing the exchange, a curious yet odd feeling filling stomach at the scene beyond concrete and wall insulation.

Who was this man, to his- to the League's informant?

(Hope you have a good day! Thank you for indulging us by answering our asks! 👋)

Oh my god Harvey! Yeah, the inversion of Bruce visiting Harvey and Harvey visiting Bruce instead….Harvey never giving up on his friend, convinced Bruce didn’t mean it. I’m sobbing, of course he’d try to help, to look past it, to see the kind and caring man he once knew underneath. Maybe Bruce is protecting him in a way — Arkham has a gravity to it, it pulls in who it wants. And Harvey has always been a target in Gotham.

[goldfades]

★ AND YOU SAY I ABANDONED THE SHIP / BUT I WAS GOING DOWN WITH IT / MY WHITE KNUCKLE DYING GRIP / SO HOW MUCH SAD DID YOU THINK I HAD, DID YOU THINK I HAD IN ME? / HOW MUCH TRAGEDY? / JUST HOW LOW DID YOU THINK I'D GO? ─── PB⁵ (part 1/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part two!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | ANGSTTTTT!!!!!! mentions of transfers, fighting, paige being a BITCHHHH LIKE so mean (but its for the plot trust), banter at the end, mention of cc and kate martin, jealous!paige

─ ev's notes | tried a new format for the third little part thingy idk if yall like it but lmk (like the iowa game part)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

JUNE 2022

Y/N L/N ANNOUNCES ENTERS THE TRANSFER PORTAL AFTER ALLEGED DISAGREEMENT OVER PLAYING TIME. In a surprising turn of events, UConn defensive star Y/N L/N has announced her decision to enter the transfer portal.

Despite the official narrative focusing on playing time, insiders report that L/N's decision is rooted in a desire to find a new environment where she can heal and focus on her game without the added stress of her recent breakup with Paige Bueckers, another star player for the Huskies. The emotional toll of the split has reportedly affected her performance and well-being, prompting her to make a fresh start at another school.

UConn’s coaching staff and teammates have expressed their support for L/N, acknowledging the challenges she has faced. "Y/N is an incredible athlete and person," said Coach Geno Auriemma. "We respect her decision and wish her nothing but the best in her future endeavors."

As L/N navigates this difficult period, she remains committed to her basketball career and is looking forward to finding a new team where she can continue to shine both on and off the court. While the specifics of her next move remained uncertain for a short time, it has now been confirmed that she will be transferring to Iowa.

Fans and fellow players have taken to social media to show their support for L/N, emphasizing the importance of mental health and personal well-being in the demanding world of collegiate sports. Iowa's coaching staff has expressed their excitement about welcoming L/N to the team. "We are thrilled to have Y/N join us," said Coach Lisa Bluder. "She brings exceptional talent and experience to our program, and we are committed to supporting her both on and off the court."

As Y/N L/N begins her new journey with the Iowa Hawkeyes, there is no doubt that she will continue to be a formidable presence in collegiate basketball. Her resilience and determination promise to make her time at Iowa just as remarkable as her tenure at UConn.

──

"So you're really doing it?" Paige's expression was unimpressed, bordering disgusted as she pushed herself between you and the door.

You sniffled, glaring at the blonde. "Get out of my way, Paige."

She crossed her arms, standing firm. "So that's it? You're just going to run away? Because of us?"

"It's not about that," you snapped, the weight of your duffel bag making your shoulder ache. "It's about me needing to be okay. And I can't do that here."

Paige's eyes softened for a moment, but she didn't budge. "Y/N, we're a team. You can't just leave us like this. Leave me like this."

You shook your head, frustration boiling over. "This isn't about the team. This is about us, Paige. I can't be around you every day, pretending like everything's fine when it's not. I'm not okay with being on the same team as you, do you get that, Paige?"

Paige's expression flickered with a mix of anger and something else — maybe hurt. "You think Iowa is going to magically fix everything? Running away doesn't solve anything, I promise you that."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "This isn't running away. This is me choosing to put myself first for once. I have to do this."

"What happened to loyalty? As soon as things get hard, you're running away! How does that make sense?" Paige let out a bitter laugh as you bit your lip, trying your best not to blow up. "God, what is wrong with you?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore. "You shouldn't be talking about loyalty, Paige! You left me, remember? We've been through-"

"Don't you dare say it, Y/N." Paige's voice was sharp, but you pressed on, the dam of emotions breaking.

"We've been through so much together, and you just threw it all away! You can't expect me to stay here and pretend like everything's fine when it's not."

Paige's eyes blazed with anger. "Oh, don't turn this around on me! You think you're the only one who got hurt? You think it was easy for me to make that decision? You're such a selfish-"

"Selfish?" you interrupted, your voice rising, ringing throughout the locker room. "I'm selfish for wanting to protect my mental health? I'm selfish for needing to get away from the constant reminder of what we had and lost?"

"You're selfish for abandoning the team! For abandoning me!" Paige shouted, her voice cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's going to be like without you here?"

"You don't get to play the victim," you shot back, tears streaming down your face as you sniffled. "You're the one who ended things. You don't get to decide how I cope with that."

Paige took a step closer, her face contorted with rage. "Fine, go to Iowa. Run away like a little pussy. But don't you dare come back and expect everything to be okay. Don't you dare think you can just waltz back into our lives when it suits you."

"That's not what I'm doing," you retorted, your voice shaking as you averted your gaze. "I need this, Paige. I need to get away from you."

"Then go!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty locker room. "But don't expect me to forgive you for this. For leaving when things got tough. For being a pussy."

"Oh, really?" You laughed, anger filling your body. "Fuck you. I thought we could be mature, but apparently we can't."

Paige's eyes flashed with fury. "Mature? You're the one who's bailing when things get hard! That's not mature, that's cowardly."

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure. "You think this is easy for me? You think I want to leave? I'm doing this because I have to, not because I want to. I'm trying to survive, Paige!"

"Survive?" she scoffed, stepping closer. "What about me? What about the team? We need you, and you're just walking away."

"I'm not your crutch," you shot back. "You have no right to make me feel guilty for taking care of myself. This isn't just about you, Paige. This is about my sanity, my well-being."

Paige's face twisted with a mix of anger and hurt. "Fine, go ahead and leave. But don't expect me to be here waiting for you when you decide to come back."

"I don't expect anything from you anymore," you replied coldly. "I'm done expecting anything from you."

Paige's expression darkened further, and she took another step closer, her voice lowering to a venomous whisper. "You know what? Maybe it's good you're leaving. No one needs your drama and bullshit. You're not as important as you think you are."

The words stung, cutting deeper than you expected. But Paige wasn't finished. "And let's be real, Y/N, Iowa's not going to "fix" you. You're still going to be the same fucked-up person, running from your problems. Maybe if you weren't so broken, none of this would have happened."

You felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room. Her words were like a knife twisting in your gut. You blinked back tears, feeling your heart shatter into even smaller pieces. "You... you have no idea what I've been through," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "To get here, to prove myself to everyone."

"Clearly, I don't," Paige shot back, her voice full of disdain. "Because if I did, maybe I would've seen what a complete waste of time it was to care about you."

The finality of her words was like a slap in the face. You stood there, stunned, feeling the weight of her anger and your own heartbreak. Without another word, you turned and walked out of the locker room, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air did little to soothe the burning pain in your chest. Iowa was waiting, but now it felt more like an escape from a nightmare than a fresh start. You knew you could never go back, not after what had been said. The bridge between you and Paige was not just burned — it was incinerated.

Driving away, tears blurred your vision. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead seemed daunting. But one thing was clear: you were done with Paige, done with the hold she had over you. It was time to find a place where you could heal, far away from the person who had just torn your heart apart.

──

NOVEMBER 2022

"Welcome, everyone, to what promises to be an exciting game tonight!" The commentator's voice boomed through the arena. "We have Iowa facing off against Ohio State, and all eyes are on Y/N L/N, the transfer from UConn. Let's see how she gels with her new teammates, especially standout stars Caitlin Clark and Kate Martin."

"Y/N L/N, the former UConn star who made headlines with her controversial transfer, had seamlessly integrated herself into the Iowa lineup. Her defensive prowess, combined with her sharp shooting skills, had brought a new dimension to the team's gameplay."

"And there she is, folks! Y/N L/N, number 89, making her presence felt on both ends of the court. She's been a force to be reckoned with tonight, shutting down opponents left and right while sinking those crucial shots when her team needs them most."

From the moment the game tipped off, Y/N was in her element. She moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, her presence on the court undeniable. Within minutes, it was clear that she had found her rhythm with her new team.

"Clark passes the ball to L/N... she fakes, drives to the basket... and what a beautiful layup! L/N puts Iowa on the board first with an impressive move."

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Y/N's teammates swarmed her, sharing her excitement. Clark gave her an encouraging pat on the back as she jogged back on defense.

"That's the kind of play Iowa fans were hoping to see from L/N," the commentator continued. "She brings a fresh energy and versatility to this team."

As the game progressed, Y/N's synergy with her teammates became even more apparent. She seamlessly integrated into the flow of Iowa’s offense, making smart passes and setting effective screens.

"Clark with the ball now, looking for an opening... she finds L/N at the top of the key. L/N drives, kicks it out to Martin on the wing... and it's a three! Kate Martin nails the shot, and L/N gets the assist."

Kate Martin and Caitlin Clark were all smiles, high-fiving Y/N as they took a moment to savor the play. The three of them were quickly becoming a formidable trio on the court, their chemistry undeniable.

"Y/N L/N is not just playing well—she's thriving," the commentator observed. "Her ability to read the game and make those around her better is exactly what Iowa needed."

In the second half, Y/N continued to shine, her defensive efforts just as impressive as her offensive contributions. She hustled for rebounds, dove for loose balls, and her tenacity was infectious.

"Ohio State struggling to get past L/N's defense... and she steals it! L/N on the fast break now... passes to Clark, who finishes with a perfect layup! What a dynamic duo!"

As the final buzzer sounded, Iowa secured a decisive victory. The scoreboard read 82-67, and Y/N's performance was a significant part of that success.

"And that's the game! Iowa takes the win, and what a debut for Y/N L/N. She finishes with 12 points, 7 assists, and 5 rebounds. An all-around stellar performance."

"And there you have it, folks! A stunning performance from the Iowa Hawkeyes, led by the dynamic trio of L/N, Martin, and Clark. With players like these, the sky's the limit for this team, and the rest of the league better watch out!"

As Y/N waved to the cheering crowd, she couldn't help but smile. This was the fresh start she needed, and it was only the beginning.

──

"Great game tonight, ladies!" The reporter started, a broad smile on her face. "Y/N, this was your debut with Iowa, and you were nothing short of fantastic out there. How does it feel to be part of this team?"

You smiled, your eyes twinkling with a mix of relief and joy. "It feels incredible. The support from the coaching staff, my teammates, and the fans has been amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better start here at Iowa."

Caitlin, sitting to your right, nodded enthusiastically. "Y/N has been a fantastic addition. Her energy and skills have really brought a new dynamic to our team."

Kate Martin chimed in, a playful grin on her face. "Yeah, she fits right in. It's like she's been here all along, like seriously."

The reporter continued, "Y/N, you and Caitlin seemed to have an almost telepathic connection on the court tonight. Can you tell us a bit about how you've built such strong chemistry so quickly?"

You glanced at Caitlin, who gave you an encouraging nod. "Honestly, it's been pretty natural. Cait is such a smart player, and she makes it easy to connect and play off each other. We've been putting in a lot of extra time together, and it's really paying off."

Caitlin added, "Y/N is a hard worker, and her basketball IQ is off the charts. We clicked from day one, and it's only getting better."

Kate, not wanting to be left out, jumped in with a laugh. "Don't forget about me! The three of us have really gelled as a unit. We push each other to be better every day."

You put your arm around the blonde, earning a laugh from her. "Don't worry, Katie we wouldn't leave you out."

The reporter smiled, clearly enjoying the dynamic. "It's great to see such strong teamwork and friendship! What's next for this Iowa team? How are you planning to build on tonight's performance?"

You looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "We're just going to keep working hard, stay focused, and take it one game at a time. Tonight was a great win, but we know there's a lot of work ahead of us."

Caitlin nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. We have high expectations for ourselves, and we know we can achieve great things if we stick together and keep pushing."

Kate leaned in, her expression serious but with a hint of a smile. "We're aiming high. We want to make a deep run this season, and with Y/N on board, we feel like we can compete with anyone."

The interview wrapped up, and as the cameras turned off, the three players shared a group hug, your bond clear for everyone to see.

As they headed back to the locker room, Caitlin threw an arm around your shoulders. "You did great tonight. Welcome to the team, officially."

Kate added, "Yeah, we're glad to have you, Y/N. And this is just the beginning, trust."

──

"The fuck," Paige grumbled as she watched the post-game interview on TV, bitterness clear on her face. Nika and Aubrey exchanged amused glances as they watched Paige, who's eyes were glued on the screens.

Despite the fallout with Paige, you were still close with the rest of the team. You wouldn't let Paige get in between you and your old team, no matter the circumstances.

Paige's gaze finally averted from the screen, looking at the girls. "Does this shit not bother you guys like, not even a little bit?"

"Nah, P." Nika responded as she sighed, leaning back on the couch. "We're proud of her."

Aubrey continued, her tone gentle but firm. "I mean, you guys dated and shit. There's bound to be some bitter feelings, y'know."

Paige scoffed, crossing her arms tightly. "Yeah, well, it still sucks seeing her over there, acting like everything's fine."

Nika gave Paige a sympathetic look. "I get it, Paige. It's hard seeing someone you care about move on, especially after everything you two went through. But she's doing what's best for her. You have to respect that."

Aubrey nodded in agreement. "And honestly, she's killing it over there. Seeing her happy and thriving makes us happy, too. It's not about choosing sides—it's about supporting our friend."

"Did you hear her?" Their words went in one ear and out the other, her gaze turning back to the TV. "Oh Katie! We'd never leave you out. Like shut up," she mocked as Aubrey let out a laugh.

It was obvious she was jealous, it was a rare sight for the usually, confident blonde. Nika and Aubrey exchanged another glance, this time with knowing smiles. They could see right through Paige's facade.

"Wow, Paige, are you actually jealous?" Aubrey teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm not jealous," she protested, though her tone lacked conviction. "I just don't like seeing her act all buddy-buddy with them."

"Sure," Nika said, leaning back and stretching. "It's just because she's happy and thriving without you, right?"

Paige shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up, Nika."

Aubrey laughed again, patting Paige on the shoulder. "It's okay to admit you miss her, Paige. We all miss her. But she's doing what she needs to do, and we have to respect that."

"I do respect that." Paige interjected, her voice defensive. The three of them quieted down, continuing watching the TV. "I guess she has a thing for blondes," she mumbled under her breathe.

"Come on, Paige!" Nika groaned as Aubrey began to laugh uncontrollably. "Stop encouraging her, Aubrey."

Paige rolled her eyes, a faint smirk playing on her lips despite herself. "What? It's true. First me, now Kate. Seems like she has a type. Blonde, 6ft and hoopers, I mean..."

Aubrey wiped away a tear from laughing so hard. "Oh my god, Paige. You're insane."

Nika shook her head, trying to suppress her own laughter. "First, you are not 6ft. And maybe it's time to focus on your game and let Y/N do her thing. You can't keep dwelling on this."

"Yes, I am! With shoes, I am." Paige sighed, the humor fading from her expression. "And I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her so happy without me. Without us."

Aubrey softened, leaning in to give Paige a reassuring pat on the back. "You'll get there. It just takes time. And who knows, maybe this will be a good thing for both of you in the long run."

Paige nodded, her eyes drifting back to the screen where Y/N was still beaming in the post-game interview. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Nika stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Alright, enough of this. Let's hit the gym. We have a season to focus on, and we need you at your best, Paige."

Paige took a deep breath, standing up as well. "You're right. Let's go."

Aubrey joined them, a supportive smile on her face. "That's the spirit. And remember, we're here for you, no matter what."

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