#europe league final

[justbackgroundnoise]

The NWSL’s new CBA finally did what I’ve wanted this league to do for years and it’s about damn time. No draft, no expansion draft, no trades without consent, AND free agency when a contract is up regardless of tenure in the league. A lot of these new things are standard in most other elite women’s professional leagues and it’s sad that it’s taken the NWSL so long to get to this point but amazing to see some of these standard practices finally being put in place! Proud of the athletes for working so hard to make this happen because it’s what they deserve.

It’s worth it to read a bit more about it if you’re interested!

[shortnotsweet]

HEAD HEART HANDS: “TURNING A NEW PAGE”

Charlotte is hardwired for realism. It’s a hefty task, given the present company and the dubious physics that have kept them all alive for the past few years, but if a resume could receive an A+, her feats in risk assessment and time-sensitive innovation deserved it. Charlotte would know; she installed the updates herself. Still, with the leader of their trio absent and Jasper dealing with impossibilities on the side, the biggest challenge these days is seeing eye-to-eye.

[ Jasper and Charlotte discuss Henry’s leave of absence, as well as his radio silence. ]

The mythology of Greek craftsman, inventor, and architect Daedalus has been cited by a variety of sources, including Homer, Pliny the Elder (Pliny’s Natural History, AD 77-79), and Plato, the latter of which interpreted his inventory and intellect as a parallel for the pursuit of truth. Pliny credited him with the invention of carpentry, as well as ship sails and masts, in addition to sculptures so lifelike they may as well have been animated; his genius was so evident that life was born into the wood. The most famous of his feats, however, was the tale of wings constructed out of wax, and the fall of his son, Icarus, into the sea.

It’s one thing to live in pursuit of knowledge. It’s not like that’s a bad thing, per se. Plenty of people do, and are perfectly content people with no lingering emotional or psychological hangups. That being said, the itch of knowing and the object of doing are not the same. For doctors who treat the sick in the morning and the engineers who study maths to reach the moon, knowledge alone is poor sustenance. For years—too early—invention has been a means of civic duty. She is too clever to fall into the sea unplanned, but she’s not heartless. She’ll make them wings, and a parachute. She left Harvard and the future she’d made for herself to follow the people she loved. Love—to the point of modification. To the point of invention.

[neiich]

you got baby!! 🩵 enjoooy now!

[fiddleabout]

this liverpool/madrid game is an indictment of goalkeeping

[macozetlerihd]

#AS #Roma 0-2 #Bayer #Leverkusen #Europe #League #Half #Final #Match #Highlights & #Goals

[itlswhatltls]

Forza Roma!!!!

[ceesimz]

Daydream

You go on vacation with Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid. (Autistic reader)

Set after Wilted, which covers the journey to the UCL final. Other parts of Reverie can be found here. This is a very long but fun one!

Contrary to popular belief, travelling was something you adored - flying especially. Being 36,000ft up in the air, literally having the best view in the world with absolutely zero responsibilities or expectations? Heaven. Working in an industry that took you not only around Europe, but around the world too, really was a dream come true. And it just so happened to be that the Champion’s League Final you would hopefully be playing in, another dream come true, was hosted in one of the few countries you were yet to visit.

Portugal. It had been high on your travel list for a while, and the moment Mapi had suggested a couples’ vacation in said country after the biggest game of your life, there was no way you could say no. 

Initially, you had your doubts though. Going on vacation straight after such a high-profile game, the most important one of the season, might not be the best idea. You had faith in your team, just not in yourself. And with so much at stake, it was difficult not to worry anyway. If you lost, you’d most likely want to lock yourself in your apartment for a week before the utter embarrassment wore off. But at the same time, if you did win, the whole experience would probably be so overwhelming – in a good way, of course – that after endless celebrations, you’d most likely just want to recharge your social battery in bed. 

However, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity that you simply couldn’t pass up on. Recovering from a harsh loss on some of the most gorgeous beaches in Europe sounded like bliss, or exploring a whole new country after winning the most prestigious tournament in the footballing world might be the best reward possible. 

So, after some in-depth discussions with both Alexia and Ingrid, the vacation was booked. The first couple days after the final would be spent in Lisbon, two of the best rooms booked at a five-star hotel that allowed for plenty of time of rest and recovery after god knows how many celebrations. Then, from there, the four of you would make your way to the astounding island of Madeira, the main place that attracted you about the country. 

And when it came to the long awaited day, the dream scenario occurred: not only did you play in the Champion’s League final, you scored in the Champion’s League final. It was the winning goal too.

Football didn't really get much better than that. 

The feeling was euphoric to the highest degree, something you hadn't experienced before. You were addicted to it, wishing you could ride the adrenaline wave forever. This was why you played football, why you got out of bed in the morning, and why you chose to live even when it was difficult to want to.

To top it all off, you were surrounded by the best people whilst achieving your dream. In the changing rooms, a medal around your neck and champagne being passed around the room whilst people danced arm in arm to the music blasting from a speaker, you looked around and let it sink in that these people were your family now. They knew you, truly knew you, and even with all that knowledge they carried on loving you anyway.

You looked back on all your memories so far, when it was so terrifying to be stood in the same building as these football giants, nevermind the same room. But, nearly a year down the line, they were family. You stood in their presence, adorning the same iconic crest and the same gold medal as them all, feeling like you belonged.

That realisation winded you a bit, because it was something you had struggled with all your life. For so long, deep down, you worried that if you did achieve your dream, you still wouldn't feel worthy of it. Yet, that feeling was long gone. There was no negativity dragging you down, no voices pulling you from the moment and suffocating you in anxiety. All that was there was complete and utter joy.

So, when that sunk in, you sat down in your cubby and slumped back against the wall. The festivities continued around you, but you wanted to take a moment to capture it and live in the present. You could enjoy it later, for now you wanted to see it from the outside before you got lost in the celebrations.

You just wished one person was beside you, rather than being stuck with media commitments down the corridor.

"You okay?" Esmee had come over to sit next to you at some point, having noticed you were a little subdued.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay. It's... it's crazy, isn't it? To be here, with this team, this medal. I'm just taking it all in." You explained, watching everybody lose themselves in the glory high.

"It is crazy. I remember feeling overwhelmed the first time I won it here. It's amazing but a lot to take in. Don't feel... embarrassed, or something, if you need to step out. I can come with you if you'd like." The Dutch girl told you, suggesting an idea that sounded like something you could do with at that moment.

"I think I will. I'm going to go see what Ale is up to, see if she's finishing up anytime soon. Thanks though, Esmee. I appreciate you a lot." You stated sincerely, pulling her in for a brief hug.

"You too, MVP." She grinned, giving you a gentle shove as you stood up and walked away.

Just as you turned the corner out of the locker room, you bumped into the one person you were looking for.

"Oh, engel, is everything okay?" Alexia asked, her hand holding onto your hip to steady you.

"I'm okay, just getting a bit much in there. Esmee said it best, I think I'm getting a little overwhelmed so I was just going to..." You trailed off, unsure what you were actually going to do next. You didn't know the stadium well enough, nor did you know where you were actually allowed to go.

“We can find somewhere to go. Come.” Alexia took your hand in an instant. 

Little things like this, Alexia saying ‘we’ and opting out of celebrating yet another trophy with her team in favour of helping you, they weren’t little. They meant the world to you.

She led you through a few corridors, smiling and waving at a few people she walked by that lit up at the sight of her. But you were more important to her. A few polite rejections later, and you had made it to a more secluded side of the stadium where the only people there were workers. The midfielder spotted what looked like an empty office, sparsely decorated apart from a desk and some chairs. 

“Are we allowed in here?” You wondered as Alexia ushered you in and closed the door behind her. She shrugged and smiled at you when you sat on the edge of the desk. “How was the media stuff?”

“Same as always.” Alexia answered, taking a seat in the chair opposite you, shuffling it close enough that you could rest your feet on the edge of it. “How does your leg feel?” 

“It aches a bit but it’s okay.” You told her, smiling bashfully when she leaned forward and started gently massaging the underside of your thigh, the one that you injured a couple months ago and had only recently come back from. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“No problem, mi amor. It does get a little crazy sometimes for me too. I’m more than happy to be here with you. You just won your first Champion’s League.” Alexia stated with a proud grin, unable to stop herself from laughing with you when you giggled at the ridiculousness of her statement.

“You just won your fourth.” You reminded her with a shake of your head only for the woman across from you to shrug again.

“Winning it with you, it feels like my first all over again.” She said simply, as if the sentence wasn’t one of the sweetest things you had ever heard. “Did I tell you how amazing your goal was? I’m pretty sure I had the best view in the whole stadium. It was really incredible, engel.”

That compliment didn’t just mean a lot to you because it came from your girlfriend, but because it came from the world’s best footballer. Two time Ballon d’Or winner, two time FIFA Women’s World Player, and so many other awards that would take too long to name, was gushing about how good of a player you were. She complimented you all the time, but this particular moment tugged at your heartstrings so much you felt like tearing up.

“I love you.” You replied, because those three words seemed like the only ones in the world to convey your gratitude as intensely as you felt it.

For some time, the pair of you sat in that room together, in the stadium where your wildest dreams had come together to exist in one space, and relished in the present. Some minutes were spent talking, about everything and nothing, whilst others were spent in silence, simply enjoying the other’s company and coming down from the adrenaline rush that the day had been.

The only downside was that you couldn’t spend forever in an empty office, which you were reminded of when some rushed Spanish caught Alexia’s attention down the hallway outside. It sounded awfully like some of your teammates, and your girlfriend took that as your sign to leave. She told you just as much, though as she got up and headed to the door, you were glued to the wood underneath you.

One thing about falling in love with Alexia is that, over time, it’s become so much harder to hide things from her. Your resolve collapsed so quickly around her. And you were beginning to realise that you loved it. Not only did it make your life quite a bit easier, but you loved that you had a person so dedicated to you that you could be completely yourself around her, that you had a safe place for the bad to go in hand with the good. You hadn’t ever experienced that before like this.

She took one look at you and saw straight through the flat expression you wore when something was plaguing you.

“Cariño.” Alexia hummed quietly, catching your attention properly as she stood by the door with her hands on her hips. “There is something on your mind. What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know.” You mumbled with a shrug. Alexia moved then, coming to stand in front of where you still sat on the desk. “I guess…  I am worried about the vacation.”

“Why?” She wondered, and you sighed. It sounded silly to say that, considering you had just achieved your dream yet there you were worrying about your vacation. Luckily for you, Alexia always knew what to say exactly when you needed it.

“I have been on vacation with Ingrid, multiple times. I’ve never been on vacation with you or Mapi before. So… I’m scared, I think, of what you both might, um… think of me. Seeing me in a different light, a different environment, for two weeks straight. That’s a long time.”

Of all things, Alexia couldn’t ever have guessed it was that which was making you so anxious. 

A frown quickly formed on her face, hating that even after months of being together, you still had doubts when it came to your own relationship. If she could take them all away and carry them for herself, she would. She hoped that, one day, you would be able to understand the depths of her unconditional love and realise there was nothing about you that would drive her away.

She delicately cupped both your cheeks and tilted your head up as she towered over you, before she leaned in to firmly but tenderly kiss your forehead. A combination of physical touch and words of affirmation, your two favourite love languages, would have to do for now. 

“I mean it when I say I love all of you. I promise you don’t have to worry about Mapi and I judging you. I have been so, so excited for this vacation because I get to spend time with you away from our busy lives. Away from the pressure and the stress. We can be just us on vacation, we’re not footballers or ‘celebrities’.” Alexia said that word with such distaste, a slither of an amused smile formed on your face. “I normally find it difficult to fully switch off and relax on vacation during the summer break. But I have a feeling that it will be easy this time, because you help me relax. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” You admitted. Alexia smiled and ran her thumbs along your cheekbones.

“It’s true. When I am around you, it is like all my thoughts disappear. All I can think about is you and how… calm I feel when you are around, like everything is as it should be. How happy you are, how carefree you can be, I love it so much. I’m so excited to wake up with you every morning, to go to sleep every night with you, to spend every day with you. You are my favourite thing in this world, engel, nothing could change that.” 

Her voice was so soft and sincere, it left no room for any more of your doubts. All you could think about after she finished talking was the adoration in her voice when she spoke about you. 

“I’m excited to spend every day with you too.” You whispered shyly, a sheepish smile on your face. 

Alexia beamed with a smile then, and her hands dropped from your face as she sat back down in the chair from before. With confusion etched all over your face, Alexia chuckled before she carefully slid you off of the desk and onto her lap, sitting you sideways and turning your head to face her with one hand under your chin. The other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you secure in the position, and when she knew you were comfy, she leaned in and kissed you. It didn’t last too long simply because of the smiles on your faces.

The blonde rolled her eyes as you laughed quietly, a grin full of unbridled joy on Alexia’s face as you rested your elbow on her shoulder and started combing through her hair in a soothing gesture. You hoped the minor action would communicate how grateful you were for Alexia and how she always knew exactly what you needed to hear, even if your words couldn’t get that point across.

“We will have the best two weeks ever.” Alexia sighed in contentment, her eyes falling shut as her forehead fell forward to rest on your cheek.

“If I carry on doing this, you’ll fall asleep, won’t you?” You teased after a moment of quiet, shaking your head when Alexia hummed noncommittally.

“No, because I am thinking about how I get to see you in a bikini everyday for two whole we- why did you stop?”

“I can’t believe after the conversation we just had that you would say that.”

“It’s the truth, I can’t wait to- ow! Don’t pinch me like that, cariño!”

—

A day as monumental as the Champion’s League final where you were running on adrenaline the whole time, it either led to an energy dump where you slept for twelve hours, or to a night where you didn't sleep at all. 

On this occasion, it was the latter. There were so many feelings coursing through your veins and, not even Lisbon’s top hotel with the comfiest bed you’d ever seen with your girlfriend beside you could lull you to sleep.

Sleep was something you'd always struggled with, even since you were a baby, so you were well versed in dealing with it. When it hit 7am the day after the final, despite the fact you and Alexia had only reached your hotel room after 2am, you got ready for the day and headed out on a walk.

The previous night of celebrations was the cherry on the cake of the biggest win of your life. Most of your teammates were so drunk, you'd be surprised if they even remembered their own names when they woke up, but you remained sober the whole time. It allowed you to take everything in, to bottle up the experience of winning the one title you had dreamed of all along so that you could remember the feeling forever. 

So you walked mindlessly around the city of Lisbon, looking around in awe at the sights and scenery around you, until you found yourself along the coastline. You found a bench and sat with the beautiful view and your thoughts. With the city waking up behind you as the waves lapped against the cliffs below, it was then that everything sunk in. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, deep inside a daydream about how far you’d come. 

You thought about your time in Norway and all the challenges you had faced there. You thought about Germany and everything you overcame even when it seemed impossible. You thought about Spain and how much you’d achieved but not in terms of football, even though a quadruple was pretty damn impressive. Instead, you just smiled, because all you could think about was the fact that yes, you’d had meltdowns and days where you couldn’t physically bring yourself to get out of bed, but those were things that would happen no matter what. What was different was how open you were, how you allowed people in even when your brain tried to reject the vulnerability you desperately wanted. Those things and many others had enabled you to perform better than you ever have before, as well as letting you get close to your team in ways you never had in the past… literally.

It was only when you heard a certain Spaniard calling your name that you realised you had been sat there, watching the world go by for god knows how long, paying no mind to your actual life instead of the endless stream of daydreams going through your head.

“Hola, preciosa! What are you doing here?” Mapi slid into the space beside you with a cheerful grin, a pair of sunglasses seated on her nose with the string you always teased her for around her neck.

“I went for a walk, couldn’t sleep.” You told her with a smile, watching as she nodded before averting her eyes to the view in front.

“No, I didn’t sleep much either.” She hummed distantly, a hint of a smirk on her face that had you scoffing.

“I think I can imagine why.” You muttered, shaking your head at how her smirk only deepened.

“Sí, they have really great champagne at our hotel, you know? Makes for a fun night.” With a roll of your eyes, you elbowed the defender in the side and grinned at the yelp of pain she let out. “You are just jealous.”

“Sure. The only thing I’m jealous of is the fact that Alexia is back at the room sleeping still.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. Mapi’s excitement faltered a little then, a small frown forming on her face as she slung an arm around your shoulders.

“You did not sleep at all?” She wondered in concern.

“No. Not for a second.” You sighed, leaning into Mapi when she pulled you closer to her side.

“That is what vacation is for- staying in bed the whole time.” She said, before pausing. “Ay, I did not mean for that to sound… dirty.”

You rolled your eyes yet again, though you smiled regardless. You really valued your friendship with Mapi. She didn't have to be your friend just because you knew her girlfriend, but she chose to anyway. That wasn't something you took for granted.

“How'd you know I was here anyway?” You asked out of curiosity because really you had no idea where you were.

“I was going to get some coffee for me and Ingrid from a place a few streets away from here, then I saw your location so I came to check on you.” She replied simply, a sweet smile on her face that emphasised the kindness embedded in her words. “So, how are you?”

“I'm tired but okay. I'll live.” 

The defender to your right nodded in understanding, though the two of you fell silent after that. All that could be heard was the coastal city waking up behind you and the waves hitting the rocks below. It was peaceful, perfectly serene, and exactly what you needed after such an intense day. In fact, the landscape around helped to ground you. Not everyone has the chance to experience playing football in front of tens of thousands people packed into one stadium, which also means not everyone understands how strange it is to go from that company to this silence, save for the sound of the passing world. Those two contrasted each other so heavily, even after being in this career for over a decade, it was still hard to get your head around it. That was one of the reasons why you eventually decided that this vacation would do wonders for you.

It served as a perfect, necessary reminder of what your life actually was away from the football pitch when you were getting so wrapped up in the intensity for it. If you basked in that intensity for too long, it would do more damage than good. So yes, the vacation was a tremendous idea, because being sat there with one of your closest friends and taking in all of the calmness that the earth had to offer was so important to you and your mental health.

“What about how you feel after winning your first Champion’s League?” Mapi turned back to you and asked a question she hoped she would hear a positive answer to. Ingrid and Alexia had both been aware of your struggles with impostor syndrome and feeling like you belonged, so the query was a bit of a loaded one. She couldn’t have been happier for you when she heard your response.

“I feel good. I’m overwhelmed, but not… not in a bad way? Like, I don’t feel anxious at all, which is new. I just feel happy. It’s all sunk in this morning and I don’t feel like I’m drowning under all the new emotions I feel. I’m… happy. My chest doesn't feel suffocated like it does when I feel anxious, it feels light because I know I'm happy. And I'm proud of myself.” 

You were proud of yourself. 

That was a statement you had probably never made and meant it until that moment. But you were proud. You made this life for yourself and you allowed yourself to reap the benefits and thrive, anxiety-free. This might be the peak of your career and you weren’t even afraid of that fact, it didn’t fill you with fear or doubt. It filled you with pride.

“You should be so proud of yourself. I am so proud, Ingrid I know is so proud she could cry. She did cry actually, when we were walking back to the defence after you scored yesterday, I looked at her and she had tears in her eyes.” Both her arms came to wrap around you as she squeezed you tight, somehow resting her chin on top of your head despite being the shorter one.

“She's gonna be mad that you outed her like that.” You said, but there was love swelling in your chest at the thought of your best friend being so happy for you, she basically cried. That was unfathomable to you.

“Hm, well, she's done worse to me. She will forget about it when I bring back coffee and breakfast in bed to her. You want to come with me, get something for Ale? It is easy girlfriend points.” She grinned at you and it was easy to give in, not that it would have taken much convincing anyway. 

“Sure. You have to lead the way though, I have no idea where I'm going.” 

Mapi did lead the way, taking you to a café hidden away in a side street that had the most amazing pastries on display in the window. Even hours later, Alexia hadn’t called yet, which you knew she would when she woke up, so you took that as a sign that the blonde was still asleep. She’d had a few drinks at the party but not much, though you figured she would still wake up feeling a little rough. As you waited for Mapi to order, stood in the queue behind her, you smiled at the thought of Alexia still snoozing away back at the hotel. And as ridiculous as it was, you couldn't wait to get back to her.

A while later, you let yourself back into the hotel room, a cardboard drinks tray in one hand and a paper bag in the other. The door shut too heavily for your liking behind you, and you grimaced at the disgruntled huff that came from the bed in the main room. Though, you couldn’t help but laugh quietly at it as you padded your way over to where the sound came from. After placing everything down on the bedside table, you slipped your shoes off and clambered onto the bed. Alexia lay on her stomach, her arms crossed under her pillow as she hid her face to block out the light.

“Alexia.” You hummed, lying beside her and leaning up on one elbow whilst your other hand softly ran up and down her bare back, save for the sports bra she wore. “Wake up, Ale.”

“No.” She grunted, not moving an inch. You laughed again at her, to her annoyance, and she turned her head in your direction to glare at you with one eye. 

“It's ten in the morning, lazy bones.” You whispered, shifting down the bed and copying her position, your faces now right in front of each other.

“Shh. No hables.” She grumbled, closing her eye again and letting out another huff. “Sleep.”

“I can’t sleep, sleep is boring. Waking up to make your girlfriend happy is so much better.” You couldn’t see her mouth, but you saw the way the corner of her eye creased, a sign that she was secretly smiling. She unfolded one of her arms from under her and slung it across your back, pulling you a little closer.

“You did not sleep?”

“No.” You responded dejectedly a few seconds later. Alexia could hear the frustration in your voice, even in her tired state. “I went for a walk instead. And I got breakfast too.”

“Hm, what did you get?” She opened her eyes properly then, and you smiled at how sleepy and peaceful she looked, more than all the times you had seen her in the mornings beforehand combined. If this was the version of her you got everyday for the next two weeks, you weren’t sure you could let it go.

“Coffee for you, and some food. You can decide what you would prefer though it might be the end of us if you choose wrong.” The midfielder hummed and smiled over at you, her hand moving to cup your cheek and stroke the skin there with her thumb.

“You brought breakfast.” She murmured, looking at you so earnestly soft, you didn't know what to do with yourself under her gaze.

“And coffee. For my amazing, lazy girlfriend.” 

The blonde didn't even retaliate to your claim this time, she was too wrapped up in you. And as you turned over and sat up to reach over to the bedside table to grab the food and drink, a strong arm pulled you back by your waist.

“Good morning, campeona.”

She smiled lazily before surging up to slowly, tenderly kiss you. It distracted you, pulled every thought from your mind, and you gladly indulged in it, because you could. Because you were on vacation, and you had all the time in the world to kiss your girlfriend as much as you wanted for the next two weeks, just like she had promised. 

“What did you get?” She wondered when she broke it off, not a hair out of place meanwhile you were breathless and a little mindless at her actions.

“Um…” You breathed out. “I-I got you a coffee, and then some pastries and a smoothie bowl. Your choice what to have.”

“I think I remember you saying you will break up with me if I have the pastries so I will choose the smoothie.” She smirked, though rather than sitting up she simply just laid back down again. “But I would prefer to lay with you for a bit because I think it is unfair that you left me before I woke up.”

“Unfair? I got bre-” You were cut off by two hands carefully pulling you further down the bed and a body landing heavily on top of you. “Ale, what about breakfast?”

“Breakfast can wait. I want to cuddle with you.”

There was a part of you that knew these next two weeks could quite possibly be the best of your life.

—

The couple days in Lisbon were exactly what you hoped for them to be. A lot of time was spent relaxing, whether that be beside the pool or in the spa or in your hotel room. On the final night, the team held a celebratory dinner at a nearby restaurant that was as chaotic as anyone would expect. All of them went out afterwards to some bar or club, but you decided to slip away quietly with nothing more than a simple text to the group chat and another to Alexia. However, just as you rounded the street corner to get back to the hotel, a hand grabbed your arm and scared the life out of you.

When you turned around, there Alexia was. 

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving?” Alexia frowned, a little breathless from running as she came to stand in front of you.

“Those things aren’t really my scene. I thought you would have wanted to stay and celebrate with the team.” You said shyly, crossing your arms over your chest and looking anywhere but at her eyes. If you had been looking at her then, you would have seen the utter confusion on her face as she frowned impossibly more. 

“No, amor, I want to celebrate with you.” She stated firmly, gently pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your cheek. “You are part of the team, you are my family. I am pretty sure you are my soulmate, so of course I want to celebrate with you. There’s no fun going to a bar and watching them all get drunk when I know I could be with you. You are always my first choice.”

You couldn’t help the bashful smile that forced its way onto your face where you rested your forehead on her shoulder, and you unfolded your arms from between you both to wrap loosely around her waist. Despite the guilt you felt at dragging her away from your teammates, you couldn’t help but revel in the fact she had chosen to stay with you instead. Even if it was just another evening spent in the hotel room, neither of you could deny that it was so much better than being surrounded by twenty-something drunk people, especially with a flight to Madeira the next morning. 

Said flight was painful for a certain Spaniard, and it wasn't your girlfriend. You and Alexia arrived bright and early at the airport, checking your bags in before heading for breakfast at one of the restaurants they had there. About half an hour after you arrived, Ingrid showed up with an amused look on her face, which was initially confusing before a rough looking Mapi rounded the corner. She had sunglasses on, headphones, a hat, and her travel pillow around her neck. You and Alexia couldn't help but laugh.

“Don't annoy her. She's threatened to cancel the villa booking since it's in her name.” Ingrid murmured, sliding into a chair beside you as the defender slowly made her way over. 

“Oh, she wouldn't dare.” Alexia grinned, and you could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was about to fully take advantage of the situation approaching her. That situation being a very grumpy, very hungover Mapi León.

As soon as the shorter woman sat down, Alexia patted her on her back in ‘greeting’ before slinging her arm around her shoulders and yanking her headphones off. It only got worse from there. 

The seats for the flights were in pairs, two in one row and another two behind them. Rather than sitting with you, Alexia quickly side-stepped Ingrid and took her seat next to Mapi. This side of her was something you didn't see often, but you couldn't lie and say you weren't loving it. She had turned into a menace towards her best friend, there was no other way to describe it, and if Mapi wasn't so annoying like Alexia was now all the time, you and Ingrid might have felt bad. But you didn't.

In fact, the in-flight entertainment provided by your captain was better than any movie you could have watched. You knew Mapi would get Alexia back when she wasn't feeling like she'd been run over by a truck, but you kept your mouth shut for your own selfish wishes to see them both bicker it out for two weeks. Ingrid barely blinked an eye at the two’s behaviour, she had seen it for the past four years she'd been at Barça, whereas it was still a novelty to you and you thought it might always be.

“I’m not sure those two will make it out of this vacation alive, nevermind as friends.” Ingrid commented, making you laugh as you heard Mapi scold Alexia once more whilst your girlfriend pleaded her non-existent innocence. 

You both watched the pair of them for a little longer before you dived off into conversation of your own, leaving those two fools to their own accord. It was a fairly short flight, so a little over two hours since you found your seat, you were heading down the steps with Alexia behind you as Mapi stormed off ahead. 

Not that you were entirely surprised, the taxi ride to the villa was mostly silent, even when you arrived outside the beautiful house that had been rented for your time here. The shorter defender gave a very brief, mumbled explanation of the layout before trudging away to the bedroom she had apparently designated for her and Ingrid. The door slammed shut behind them, and you had a feeling they, or Mapi at least, wouldn’t resurface until the evening. That left you and Alexia to your own accord.

Your girlfriend was glancing around the room still as you looked over at her with a shyly excited smile, your hands fidgeting with the straps of the rucksack on your back like a child on their first day of school. Alexia took in your silence and sensed your gaze, so turned to look at you, a grin of her own forming.

“I think it’s about time we did some sunbathing, hm?” You suggested, noticing the glint to her eye much the same as the one back at the airport and giggling as she nodded emphatically. 

“And I think you should let me choose which bikini you wear.” She murmured, reaching out to link your fingers together and nodding her head for you to lead the way to the bedroom. 

It was beautifully decorated, exactly as you pictured a Mediterranean AirB&B to look like, and the view outside was even better. There were some sliding doors leading directly out into the backyard, where there was an outdoor kitchen you could already imagine Alexia and Mapi fighting over who was the chef, as well as a pool and some garden furniture you wouldn’t mind having in your future home one day. Hopefully with Alexia. And maybe even in Barcelona, permanently.

A small amount of unpacking was done, but you both were honestly too eager to transition into vacation mode to focus on boring details like that. As promised, you let Alexia choose which swimsuit to wear and she ushered you into the ensuite to change whilst she picked out one for herself. You finished up before her, so you opened the door to find her staring out the glass at the view of the ocean beyond the garden whilst she finished tying the last knot of her bikini bottoms. She hadn’t heard you, as far as you were aware, so you quietly padded through the room to come up behind her.

Gently, without spooking her, you wrapped your arms around her bare torso and settled against her back, sighing contently. Your hands sat on her hips where there was only a small string separating you from her soft skin, and her larger hands covered yours when she moved them. Neither of you spoke, both more than happy to indulge in the silence and the company of the other. 

This, you could quite confidently say, was bliss in all its entirety.

Hundreds of miles away from home with nothing planned but to spend time with your girlfriend and two of your closest friends. Doesn’t get much better.

—

“Alexia, for the last time, hurry up!” You groaned whilst pounding your fist on your shared bedroom door. 

You, Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid were all set to go for dinner on the third night, finally deciding to actually spend time as a four rather than staying in separate sickeningly-sweet loved up bubbles as couples. However, Alexia had kicked you out of the room as she finished getting ready, leaving you stuck in the lounge with two women that could hardly bear tearing their eyes away from the other.

“What is she doing in there?” Mapi asked in amusement, a smirk to her face that only added to your frustration.

“I have no idea but she is going to make us late.” You sighed, slumping down on one of the sofas. 

Still, a few more minutes passed by and there was no sign of Alexia. The three of you could hear her in the other room, yet you were left alone with two women that looked like they wanted to jump each other’s bones everytime they caught the other’s eyes.

“Can’t you guys stop eyefucking each other for more than five seconds?! God.” You scoffed, shaking your head as Ingrid blushed and Mapi grinned manically. 

“I cannot help it. Look at her!” The defender argued, only for the bedroom door to open as she was talking.

“Look at who?” Alexia wondered, trying to hide her smile when everyone in the room turned to her, especially you. “We can go now.”

“Finally.” Ingrid grumbled, grabbing Mapi’s hand and leading her outside where the taxi was waiting. 

Meanwhile, you were still hung up on the sight of Alexia. More specifically, the dress she was wearing. There hadn’t been many other occasions for her to wear something like she was now, considering you had gotten together in the Winter and had been busy with the tail end of the season… until now. Maybe your behaviour was a little objectifying but you knew she wanted that reaction out of you. Well, she had gotten it.

“Engel?” She hummed, trying to avert your attention back to her eyes. “Oye.”

“Hm?” You blinked up at her, rather gormlessly. Then you snapped back into reality and out of your… daydreams. “Sorry! You just… ugh.”

“I guess that is a good reaction?” She smirked when you dropped your head into your hands. 

“When the hell did you buy that?!” You exclaimed as you abruptly stood up, eyes almost bugging out of your head.

“After the Madrid game! You were in bed next to me when I was ordering online!” Alexia laughed at the situation she found herself in; deep down, a tiny part of her was weirdly proud of herself for guessing that you'd react like this. She was learning, something she worried about. Even if this occasion was unrelated to it all, and only about your… attraction. To her.

“Well, I- it's ridiculous! Ridiculous that you are dressed like that! And I thi- this is unfair! Taking advantage!” Safe to say, your mind was in overdrive. 

“I'm taking advantage? I had to tell you to look at my face!” This back and forth, it was addictive. It wasn't arguing, it was a love language.

“Because you look too fucking good for me to react normally!” You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath, attempting to regain some composure. All it took was one look back at Alexia for it to fly straight out the window. “Okay, we have to leave, like, right now.”

At that, you turned on your heel and started marching towards the door. Only, there were footsteps following behind you that sounded awfully faster than your own. That thought became a fact when a hand grabbed yours and stopped you in place by the front door. Before you knew it, a body was in front of you and two hands were on your face, tilting your head up as lips crashed against your own.

It was the kind of kiss that melted your mind completely, your mouths moving together in a perfectly rehearsed harmony, charged with hunger. You didn't have time to think as Alexia controlled it, deepening it and suppressing her grin when you whimpered desperately. Dinner was the last thing on your mind at that moment, but the same couldn't be said for your girlfriend, who pulled away just as you had caught up. 

“Come on. Let's go.” She said simply, using her thumb to wipe away a bit of smudged lipstick before turning to open the door. You were frozen on the spot still, since your world had stopped turning when the blonde had kissed you and it was taking a little while to start spinning again. 

“You… kiss me like that again and we'll never get anything done, ever.” You replied breathlessly, staring up at her like she was the only person that existed apart from you.

“No, I can think of many things I would do.” Alexia shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching with her stupid smirk.

“The universe hates me.” You grumbled, pushing her out of the way to open the door and storm out.

And it was just your luck that you opened the door to the taxi and the last seat available in the back was next to Mapi. Alexia had already taken up the front seat beside the driver.

“Can't you guys stop eyefucking each other for five seconds.” The shorter defender mocked in a high pitched voice under her breath, yelping and almost scaring the driver when you elbowed her sharply in the side.

After that incident, the four of you made it to the beach-side restaurant thankfully unharmed. When you arrived, the sun had just begun to set, turning the sky a hazy orange colour that perfectly matched the beautiful set-up of the restaurant. 

Your table was right beside where the golden sands of the beach began, trailing off into the distance where the calming ebb and flow of the waves began. You knew, as you took your seat so that the view was on your left, you would most likely spend more time gazing off into the horizon than partaking in the dinner conversations. What was even better, though, was the fact that none of the three you were with expected anything less, yet they still chose your company time and time again. Alexia sat beside you to your right, and once the starters of the meal had been decided, your eyes immediately averted to the left. It didn’t take long before a hand settled on your thigh, palm facing upwards for you to hold with one of your own whilst the other took turns fidgeting with her rings, her bracelet, or just mindlessly tracing shapes across her already tanned skin.

There was something so comforting about being in a group of people that were your closest friends, knowing that the rest of them would happily take up slack of the conversation whilst you sat and listened. It was weirdly relaxing, being surrounded by people you love, and who loved you enough to let you unmask and bask in their company in whatever way you wanted to that day. Turns out, you were in a quiet and content mindset, having let go of the inhibitions that held you back in most other settings and being whole-heartedly yourself. Not for a second did Ingrid, Mapi, or Alexia shy away from that, and whether you were in a mood where you could talk for the whole of Europe, or you just wanted to mindfully enjoy the setting you were in with the presence of your favourite people in the world, they were happy because you were happy. 

Shortly after the dinner orders were placed, the starters came and went, the other three passing their dishes around for each other to try them whilst you were more than content with your own… even if Mapi did try and steal some off your plate. It was then that one of the waiters came over and said the main meal might be a little longer due to it being a busy evening, something that didn’t bother any of you, not much could in such an incredible location. But, you decided to come up with an idea to pass the time after seeing others scattered up and down the beach doing the same thing.

“Ingrid, come with me to take some photos on the beach. The lighting is perfect.” You suggested, your best friend nodding eagerly and immediately standing whilst reaching for her own.

Before Alexia and Mapi could get a word in, you and Ingrid were already out on the beach, shoes slipped off and left behind as you walked closer to the sea. The two Spaniards allowed the silence to sit between them as they both watched the women they loved, separate soft smiles on their faces that held the same meaning. They let it be for a while, occasionally sipping from their wine and laughing at something you and Ingrid did, until Mapi spoke whilst her eyes stayed glued to her girlfriend.

“Those two are something, no?” She commented, Alexia humming in agreement as her smile grew wider, cheeks starting to ache. Mapi turned to look at her then, though there were no teasing tones to her voice, only sincere honesty. “I heard a movie director say something once. He said that time goes on but friendship doesn’t age. When you have known someone from when you were younger, no matter how old you turn, when you’re together again you instantly revert back to being the ages you were when you met. Those two met when they were teenagers, and when they’re both in this mood together, it’s like they’re sixteen all over again.”

Alexia looked at her friend, her eyebrows raised a little, not expecting the defender to say something… quite so profound. She’d hit the nail on the head with it though, because when she turned back to her two favourite Norwegians, all she could see was a joy that wasn’t quite childlike, but something strangely akin to it. The realisation made her heart ache, unknowingly raising a hand to rest over the organ that had been unnoticeable to her before you came along. You had stoked the fire and made it come alive, she believed, even if that made no sense at all.

“Since your girl moved here, I have seen a different side to Ingrid. I feel like I have fallen in love with her even more because of it.” All Alexia could do was nod, because she was truly speechless. Anything she could say in that moment wouldn’t live up to the pricelessness of the conversation.

Meanwhile, some hundred metres away, you and Ingrid were none the wiser.

“What is happening over there?” You said to Ingrid, distracted by the two left back at the table as they… stared at each other? 

Ingrid, behind the camera as she photographed you in front of the ocean and the setting sun, stood up straight and turned around. She huffed in amusement at it and shook her head, turning back to her phone to look at the photos so far.

“They’re probably in some kind of stand-off. Idioter.” You smiled at the Norwegian term directed at them both, but it didn’t exactly seem like they were arguing.

“No, it looks like they’re both in some American movie, like they’re about to stand up and dramatically hug the life out of each other. Like it’s the first time they’ve seen each other since coming back from the war or something. So dramatic. I’m weirded out, and a little scared to go back over there.” Ingrid laughed and you did too, laughing at the ridiculousness of your words and whatever was happening back at the restaurant. 

You joined them not so long after, the Spanish pair seemingly have gotten over whatever it was that was happening and brushing it off. You figured that it didn’t matter and forgot about it as soon as your dinner was placed in front of you later, though Alexia had pulled your chair a little closer when you had sat down, something that had you blushing unnecessarily, which Alexia didn’t miss. 

However, Mapi’s words had sparked something in Alexia, adding fuel to the fire of a thought she'd had for a while already. You could tell there was something on her mind throughout dinner, when you weren't distracted by the scenery around, but you decided to leave it until you got back to the villa later. 

The thing is, from the moment Alexia realised that she might actually have a chance to love you, she was worried that she wouldn’t be the right partner for you. So she made an oath to be the best version of herself, the most selfless and dedicated and caring partner she could be. It had worked out so far, though she was only human after all. The doubts still crept in, sometimes keeping her up at night, anxious that she didn’t know enough or that she wasn’t trying hard enough. She worried, overall, that she wasn’t enough. If only she knew.

“Alright, what’s up with you? What’s on your mind?” You hopped up on the bathroom counter later that night as Alexia stood in front of the mirror to take off her makeup. 

“Nothing, why?” She brushed it off, saying the one word that meant the exact opposite to what it tried to convey.

“You have been oddly quiet since dinner, Ale, I wanna know you’re okay.” You told her, watching the tiny frown that tugged at her lips at how she’d been caught out. 

She washed her face quickly, drying it afterwards on the towel before sighing and turning to lean back against the countertop as she figured out what she wanted to say. Opening up about months worth of anxiety wasn’t what she planned for vacation, she had spent so long shoving them down and hiding them, she never really… planned for them to become a shared thing. Just a burden she didn’t want to drop upon anyone else. 

“You don’t need to hear it, it’s nothing, really.” She shrugged. You saw right through her, like always.

“No, what I need is for you to be okay, and not encumbered by thoughts that would be much easier on you when you can tell me. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.” You told her, smiling softly when she turned her head to look at you. She nodded then, and you didn’t miss the gulp when she averted her eyes away again.

“I make you happy, right? I… am I a good girlfriend?” Her voice, even in the quiet of the bathroom, could hardly be heard. But you heard it all, from the vulnerability and fear in her tone to the gravity of her words.

“Come here. Stand in front of me.” Even though she was confused, she did as you said and stood between your legs, unable to stop herself from leaning into your touch when your hands settled on her cheeks. “I can’t fathom that you have these thoughts, Alexia, because loving you and being loved by you is the best thing to ever happen to me. Nobody makes me feel the way that you make me feel. Nobody makes me feel more seen, and… normal. Like I’m more than the label I got stuck with. You don’t make me feel like I’m childish for needing more help with things than most people my age, you don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to cope with certain environments, and you definitely don’t make my meltdowns seem so scary when… I know you’re there to help me pick the pieces back up. You make me the happiest I have ever been, and, to me, you are the best person in the world.”

Alexia didn’t quite know what to do with herself, under your gaze as you spoke the most meaningful words she thought anyone had ever said to her. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, and to hide that, she turned her head to quickly peck your palm before moving forward and wrapping her arms tightly around you. She carefully slid you closer to her on the counter, so you crossed your ankles behind her back and returned her heartfelt embrace, knowing it was the one thing she could do in that moment to try and express her gratitude.

One conversation wasn’t enough to entirely dispel her doubts, you both knew that, but Alexia was caught off-guard at the effect your words had on her. Then again, she was always happy to be surprised by you and each unravelling of your character, because like Mapi had said earlier that evening, she just fell more and more in love with you.

“What would I do without you?” She breathed out into your neck, smiling when she felt goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t be a four-time UCL winner, so that’s one thing.” You couldn’t help yourself, and it was worth it when the blonde lifted her head up and laughed. “But, really, please don’t hide these things from me. I can handle it, all I want to do is help, and I don’t like the thought of you going through stuff like this alone.”

“I know you can handle it, engel, I don’t doubt that you can. Sometimes, being open like that doesn’t come so easy to me. I’m not really… used to it.” She looked down as she spoke, her hands on your thighs messing with the hem on each leg of the shorts you wore.

“I know. And I don’t take it for granted when you are, it means a lot to me. I just want to help you and care for you in the same way you do for me.” The midfielder glanced back up at you and smiled, her thumbs tracing light circles on your sun-kissed skin.

“You do. You really do. I love you.” Alexia stated with a glint in her eyes that told you exactly how she was feeling… as did the fingertips that slowly started making their way higher up your thighs.

“Te amo, Ale.” You hummed against her lips as you linked your arms behind her neck and quickly pecked the corner of her mouth. When you went to move back, there was a hand under your chin that gently pinched your cheeks together and pulled you in for a mind-numbing kiss like the one earlier. You weren’t quite so willing this time. “You taste like garlic.”

“Qué?” Alexia breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you in confusion. You just shook your head which Alexia responded to by trying to kiss you again, only for you to cover her mouth with your hand. The blonde tugged it away by your wrist and you had to stifle your laughter at the outraged look on her face. “I can’t kiss you now?”

“Absolutely not. I hate garlic and that’s all I can taste. Disgusting. Brush your teeth please.”

“I have to brush my teeth to kiss my girlfriend!?” She exclaimed, huffing and cursing under her breath as you finally laughed at her.

“If you want to have sex tonight, then yes.” You grinned cheekily at her whilst she glared at you, eyes wide with nostrils flared and all. At that, you hopped off of the counter and scurried away back into the bedroom, leaving a somewhat frustrated but mostly amused Alexia in the ensuite.

—

With this vacation, there were perhaps two things you didn’t think about. The second thing settled a little heavy in your chest as the vacation neared its end, but the other was a welcome distraction. That being that Mapi didn’t really think before she acted sometimes, a trait that was funny… most of the time.

“Wake up, wake up! You will make us late for this hike, and I will not b-” As soon as she was one foot in the room, she cut herself off with a sharp gasp, slapping a hand over her mouth before laughing giddily.

“Fuera! Fuera ahora mismo!” Alexia shouted, clutching the covers tightly against you both so that Mapi didn’t have to see anything else she really didn’t need to see.

“Vale, vale! Lo siento, por favor! Mis ojos, dios.” The defender quickly backed out of the room, shutting the door with a heavy slam. “Get out of bed and get ready!” 

You and Alexia stayed silent as the footsteps ran away from outside your room, until you knew the coast was clear. When you knew it was, Alexia slowly pulled the sheets away a little and looked down at you, grins on both your faces that quickly turned into full-blown belly-laughing. Your cheeks were red, completely and utterly embarrassed by what had just happened, whilst Alexia ducked her head into your neck where her lips had been before the interruption. It wasn’t your proudest moment, being caught by Mapi then of all times, but that was long forgotten when Alexia’s mouth resumed her ministrations, only she began moving lower this time.

Another example of Mapi’s spontaneity was when she was so bored out of her mind, seemingly having had enough of R&R, that it meant that nobody else could have an ounce of peace until she was entertained. Really, the three of you should have realised this before the inevitable happened. The previous day had been a long one, the hike was much more difficult than any of you expected, probably as a result of the burning hot Portuguese sun. It had been decided that the day after it was solely designated for recovering, since each of you had aching legs and a healthy side of sun stroke too. Mapi wasn’t best pleased at that decision.

One moment, you were heading inside to get bottles of water for everyone, the next, you were in the water. You had stepped out of the open doors that led into the backyard and thrown two bottles over to Ingrid who was on one side of the pool, a magazine in front of her that she was flicking through, and another two to your girlfriend. She was on the other side, laying on a sun lounger, the one beside her empty where you once sat. The grin on Mapi’s face should have been enough warning for what was about to happen.

Alexia watched the scene before her with a quiet laugh, knowing you would try to fight for her to be on your side, whilst Ingrid barely blinked an eye at it all. Meanwhile, you resurfaced from having been pushed into the pool, gasping for oxygen that promptly left your lungs before being plunged into the warm water unexpectedly. 

“Mapi!” You shouted, pushing your hair out of your face and glaring at the shorter woman who was keeled over, laughing so hard she was completely silent apart from the sharp breaths in every so often. “I’m gonna kill you! Why?!” 

She ignored you still, so whilst she was thoroughly pleased with herself and distracted by her own hilarious joke, you got out of the pool and gave her the exact same treatment. You heard Alexia laugh behind you too, making you grin whilst Mapi flailed around in the water in the same way you had. Ingrid, unhappy with the commotion now and the splashes that had been sent her way twice already, closed her magazine and glared over at the two of you.

“Children. Honestly.” She grumbled, moving further down the sofa in the hopes of escaping the chaos and trying to stay dry. She had only washed her hair the day before, she refused to get it wet. If only.

“Wait, fuck, look at that over there, is that smoke?” You gasped, pointing off in the distance, immediately averting Mapi’s attention away like the toddler she was. With her focus elsewhere, you turned to wink at Alexia quickly before diving into the pool beside Mapi, a cannonball that sent water everywhere. 

Your girlfriend’s approval in the form of some of the loudest laughter you’d heard from her was well worth it, even when Mapi forced you back under by pressing on your shoulders. This back and forth of utterly childish fighting went on for only a minute, in which probably about a quarter of the water was thrown out because of it, and one person eventually had had enough. 

The sound of feet slapping against stone could be heard as Ingrid stormed off inside with a huff, Mapi noticing and immediately turning to look in that direction.

“Ingrid, princesa, where are you going?” She asked whilst you and Alexia shared an amused glance.

“To shower, because you two are so annoying.” All it took was two words for Mapi to shoot off after her girlfriend, leaving the two of you outside on your own as they slammed the doors shut behind them.

“Alexia.” You hummed, moving to the edge of the pool and crossing your arms on it. “Get in with me.”

Alexia thought she might have never been happier than she was in that moment, after diving in in the same way you had a minute prior and getting to hear the giggle you let out as she did so. Seeing you so carefree as your true self, not afraid of what anyone thinks, is something she cherished and hoped to witness for the rest of her life. 

The third and final instalment of Mapi’s behaviour was her delight in bickering with your captain. In any setting, any scene, she will find a way to push her buttons, and it never got old for you. 

On one of the last days of the vacation, when it was a particularly warm evening, it was decided that the outdoor kitchen would finally get used. Yourself and Alexia had gone shopping together to get everything for the night, and Alexia had been chosen as the cook. Something Mapi was not best pleased with. 

Throughout the whole duration of the night, you and Ingrid sat on the sofa outside and watched them fight over who did what. It quickly turned into a competition, of what kind you weren’t exactly sure, but it was enough cause for concern for you and Ingrid to come up with a plan that the Spaniards would probably get angry at. 

When the smell of burning slowly overtook your senses, you knew it was the right idea. 

“Why is there someone at the front door?” Mapi scrunched her nose up in confusion after hearing the doorbell go, meanwhile you jumped off out of your seat and ran inside to get it.

“You two are probably getting told off by the neighbours for being so loud all the time.” Ingrid told her, kicking off yet another argument between them, each one saying they weren't loud and that it was the other's fault. It was like a broken record was playing over and over, every time they spoke.

They went silent the second you stepped outside with two boxes of pizza in your arms.

“Here you go, Ingrid.” You beamed, heading over to the taller woman and handing her one of the boxes. Alexia and Mapi stared at the two of you like you'd just committed a truly awful crime. 

“La audacia.” Mapi gasped quietly, Alexia putting her bottle of beer on the countertop with a rather loud clunk. 

“No lo creo. Increíble!” Alexia exclaimed, shaking her head whilst you and Ingrid pretended to ignore them. 

“Why have you done this to us?!” Mapi shouted, her eyebrows so high on her forehead you wondered how they hadn’t shot off yet.

“María, open that grill. Now.” Ingrid said. Her girlfriend looked at her sceptically before doing precisely that. A not so healthy amount of smoke flowed out immediately. “You spent so long arguing that you burnt everyone’s food. I don’t know about you two, but we are not going hungry tonight.”

“And no, I am not sharing my pizza with anyone. Every man for themselves.” You smirked, purposefully meeting Alexia’s eye as you took a bite and groaned at the taste.

“I am never going on vacation with you again, Mapi.” Alexia grumbled, dramatically slamming down the dish towel that had been on her shoulder onto the counter, beside her beer, and walking away from her shorter friend. She came over to you and went to snatch a slice, only to have her hand slapped away and the lid of the box slammed closed before she could even try again. “Engel, this is not fair!”

“Hm, well, you guys should have thought about that before having an ego-off.” 

Mapi and Ingrid were left to their own devices as you deflated a little, watching Alexia roll her eyes and walk away back into the house. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, worrying you had perhaps taken it a step too far this time. Apparently Ingrid wasn’t so happy with your lack of determination to make a point.

“Hey, don’t go in after her, they have to learn!” She argued, but you shook your head and stood up.

“I have to do damage control, I’m sorry! My relationship is still fairly new, you two are like an old married couple! Ale doesn’t mind me being autistic but maybe she draws the line when it comes to food, who knows?” You rambled, only making Ingrid and Mapi laugh as they watched you run after Alexia.

The blonde was in the kitchen, grumbling under her breath and staring into the fridge like her anger was enough to kickstart a miracle in the form of a plate of food magically appearing in front of her. There was a small seed of anxiety beginning to grow, genuinely concerned you had annoyed her, but fortunately for you the solution for that was already planned.

“You are evil. You had no faith in me. Evil.” Alexia complained, closing the fridge and turning to you with an especially grumpy face. 

“Well, no, you don’t have any faith in me.” She scoffed at your smug face, though her attitude changed instantly when you reached into the microwave and pulled at a takeout container. You looked at her with a grin and passed it over to her, watching her reaction closely as she took the lid off and breathed out sharply.

“You got my favourite pasta? Even though Mapi and I were acting like stupid teenage boys?” She wondered, a shy smile on her face, seemingly having realised how ridiculous she had acted.

“I did, because my superstar footballer girlfriend can’t go unfed even if she did burn the food I bought.” You grinned. There was a pause, only briefly, until Alexia placed her food down and stepped over to you. Her arms were around you in an instant, sweeping you off the ground and hugging you way too tightly for what was just a serving of pasta. 

“So I found someone that finally puts up with my stupidity?” She murmured into your shoulder, nuzzling her nose in the juncture between your neck and collarbone. 

“You put up with a lot more than I do, so I should probably put a limit to my teasing at some point.” All she could do was chuckle into the thin material of your shirt and smile, because she was so overwhelmed with complete contentment that her mind was too high on that joy to do anything more complex than that. 

Yet, it was that point for you when you realised the second thing you didn’t think about before booking this vacation. The days passed by way too fast for your liking, and a thought you had never had in your life slowly became more and more prevalent.

 You didn’t want to go home. It wasn’t feasible in the slightest, but you wanted to stay here forever. 

That might not be strange to most people – it was to you. Every vacation you’d ever had, there was always a point where you started feeling a little homesick and burnt out. That couldn’t be further from the truth in this case. 

When you got back to Barcelona, you had two days before Alexia was off to international camp before the summer’s tournament, which meant you’d be stuck at home alone with nothing to do but get up and go to pre-season training everyday. Otherwise known as your least favourite time of the year. It was always a challenge to get through, and even though you had Mapi and a few others in training, it would still be lonely. And undoubtedly difficult. 

Normally, knowing that you always had football to go back to no matter what brought a great amount of comfort to you. However, on your last day in Madeira as you packed your stuff back into your suitcase, all you felt was a healthy mix of dread and anxiety. The sight Alexia walked in on after doing an emergency shop ruin exemplified that perfectly.

“Min engel, what is happening here?”

Packing for a vacation was something you perhaps weren’t so skilled in, especially when you were feeling how you were. The way you did it, it was an art form. It was a completely and utterly confusing thing for everyone on the outside of your mind, and Alexia received the full brunt of that when she walked in on a scene that could only be described as the aftermath of some kind of natural disaster, or a run-in with the Tasmanian Devil. 

You were sat on the floor of the bedroom, with what looked like every single item of clothing you had brought strewn around the room. Not to mention your suitcase, a new one borrowed from Alexia, was in front of you but completely empty. Why, Alexia wasn’t sure. 

“I am packing.” You mumbled dejectedly, which was enough for Alexia to feel alarmed.

“This does not look like it is going successfully.” Alexia commented lightly, regretting the words as soon as they left her tongue.

“You think?” You muttered, dropping your phone to the floor and bringing your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms atop them and resting your chin there.

“It’s okay, I can help.” She moved beside you then, glancing around at the chaos and quickly coming up with a plan to get this done as quickly and pain-free as possible. “We can do this, amor. One bit at a time. Do you have your list on your phone?” 

“Mhm.” You replied, though didn’t show any intention to pick it back up again.

“I’ll find everything if you just read things out to me, then we’ll figure out getting it all to fit. One step at a time.”

With her years of experience when it came to packing, a not so fun perk of her job, Alexia helped to get the job done in much less time than it would have taken had you done it on your own. You didn’t really do much, too clouded by the swirling cycle of thoughts running rampant through your mind, but Alexia didn’t mind. She never did.

“Bueno! It is closed, finally.” She let out a breath as she set your suitcase upright after taking a while to get it closed. You were sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes averted downwards to where your hands fidgeted with a thread on the cuff of your girlfriend’s joggers that you had stolen from her. 

“Good.” You glanced up at her briefly and smiled for a second, before going back to what you were doing a moment ago. Now that the main task was out of the way, Alexia could finally focus all her attention on you. 

A quiet sigh escaped her as she sat next in front of you on top of the white sheets, her hand reaching for yours and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Are you sad to be leaving?” She asked tentatively, and it surprised you a little that she seemed to already know what was disturbing you.

“Yeah, basically.” You mumbled, closing your eyes momentarily when her other hand gently tipped your chin up to meet her gaze. When you opened them again, you saw her sad smile, one that always managed to entice the words out of you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” The midfielder whispered. It was like clock-work; your thoughts came pouring out then.

“We’re going back to Barcelona, and we’ll have two days together before you go away for god knows how long. And it’s for football, so I’m excited for you, but I’m… I’m sad. I don’t want to be without you for the summer. It’s kind of stupid how much I’ve come to rely on you but I hate pre-season and when I get home I’ll be burnt out from this vacation even though it was perfect – like honestly perfect – and I’ll be alone and stressed and out of routine, and I just- I’m scared. I don’t want to do it.”

You were rambling, and there was a shakiness to your voice that wholly encapsulated just how anxious you were about it all. When you were finished, you let out a sharp breath and shook your head slightly, biting your lower lip to hide how it trembled. Alexia’s thumb carefully tugged it down to stop you from doing that, before stroking along the skin of your jawline. 

“You won’t be alone. I won’t be there in person, but I promise that you can text or call me whenever you need it. No matter when or what it’s about, just call me. And it’s not stupid that you ‘rely’ on me, that’s just what relationships are. I adore you too much to think you rely on me too much or that you’re clingy or whatever, I’ll happily take all that I can get of you because I ‘rely’ on you just as much.” She admitted, a comforting smile on her face now. “We’ll get through this summer, we’ll learn how to cope with the change, together, and then I’ll be back before you know it. Before I go, I will do anything you need me to do to help you adjust back into your routine at home, okay? Not only that, but the team will help you with pre-season too. As will Mapi and Pina and everyone else that will be there with you. You won’t be alone, engel, that I can promise too.”

You knew a lot of your anxieties were irrational, that was one of your most prominent traits. You’d dealt with them all your life, yet they still got under your skin every once in a while. This was one of those occasions, and thankfully it was the type where getting them off your chest lessened the burden of them. Alexia’s words were the bandaid you needed, a temporary fix for now, and some of the tension in your body left with the sigh you let out. 

Everybody needed a reminder, every once in a while, that the challenges that faced them weren’t quite as daunting as they seemed at first glance. That’s exactly what Alexia had done for you, and you had a certain feeling she always would. The love she provided you with was second to none, it was the greatest treasure you had come across. Being loved by her truly was an honour, just like you had told her when she was the one with doubts. She made you feel like her equal, like you meant something, which most people did the opposite of for your whole life. That wasn’t something you would forget anytime soon. 

There was one thing, however, that your doubts couldn’t dispel:  your humour, and for that, Alexia was glad.

“If you’re leaving me for so long, you better win the damn thing.” 

—

feel bad that this doesn't exactly have a strict plot point like all my other stories do, since this is just 12k of fluff and that's not my usual style (?) but i wanted to write it anyway so why not post it if it's being written regardless. it's definitely way too long than it needed to be and im not expecting it to be so well loved but i had fun writing it and it brought me a lot of comfort during two very awful weeks. a very self-indulgent one but i hope there's some people that enjoy it :)

[infiniteglitterfall]

Someone on Reddit made the mistake of saying, "Teach me how this conflict came about" where I could see it.

Let me teach you too.

The common perception is that Jews came out of nowhere, stole Palestinian homes and kicked Palestinians out of them, and then bombed them for 75 years, until they finally rebelled in the form of Hamas invading Israel and massacring 22 towns in one day.

The historical reality is that Jews have lived there continuously for at least 3500 years.

There are areas, like Meggido iirc, with archeological evidence of continuous habitation for 7,000 years, but Jewish culture as we recognize it today didn't develop until probably halfway through that.

Ethnic Jews are the indigenous people of this area.

Indigeneity means a group was originally there, before any colonization happened, and that it has retained a cultural connection to the land. History plus culture.

That's what Jews have: even when the diaspora became larger than the number of Jews in Israel, the yearning to return to that homeland was a daily part of Jewish prayer and ritual.

The Jewish community in Israel was crushed pretty violently by the Roman Empire in 135 CE, but it was still substantial, sometimes even the majority population there, for almost a thousand years.

The 600s CE brought the advent of Islam and the Arab Empire, expanding out from Saudi Arabia into Israel and beyond. It was largely a region where Jews were second-class citizens. But it was still WAY better than the way Christian Europe treated Jews.

From the 700s-900s, the area saw repeated civil wars, plagues, and earthquakes.

Then the Crusades came, with waves of Christians making "pilgrimages to the Holy Land" and trying to conquer it from Muslims and Jews, who they slaughtered and enslaved.

Israel became pretty well depopulated after all that. It was a very rough time to live there. (And for the curious, I'm calling it Israel because that's what it had been for centuries, until the Romans erased the name and the country.)

By the 1800s, the TOTAL population of what's now Israel and Palestine had varied from 150,000 - 275,000 for centuries. It was very rural, very sparsely populated, on top of being mostly desert.

In the 1880s, Jews started buying land and moving back to their indigenous homeland. As tends to happen, immigration brought new projects and opportunities, which led to more immigration - not only from Jews, but from the Arab world as well.

Unfortunately, there was an antisemitic minority spearheaded by Amin al-Husseini. Who was very well-connected, rich, and from a politically powerful family.

Al-Husseini had enthusiastically participated in the Armenian Genocide under the Ottoman Empire. Then the Empire fell in World War One, and the League of Nations had to figure out what to do with its land.

Mostly, if an area was essentially operating as a country (e.g. Turkey), the League of Nations let it be one. In areas that weren't ready for self-rule, it appointed France or Britain to help them get there.

In recognition of the increased Jewish population in their traditional, indigenous homeland, it declared that that homeland would again become Israel.

As in, the region was casually called Palestine because that was the lay term for "the Holy Land." It had not been a country since Israel was stamped out; only a region of a series of different empires. And the Mandate For Palestine said it was establishing "a national home of the Jewish people" there, in recognition of "the historical connection of the Jewish people with Palestine and to the grounds for reconstituting their national home in that country."

Britain was appointed to help the Arab and Jewish communities there develop systems of self-government, and then to work together to govern the region overall.

At least, that was the plan.

Al-Husseini, who was deeply antisemitic, did not like this plan.

And, extra-unfortunately, the British response to al-Husseini inciting violent anti-Jewish riots was to put him in a leadership role over Arab Palestine.

They thought it would calm him down and perhaps satisfy him.

They were very wrong.

He went on to become a huge Hitler fanboy, and then a Nazi war criminal. He co-created the Muslim Brotherhood - which Hamas is part of - with fellow fascist fanboy Hassan al-Banna.

He got Nazi Party funding for armed Muslim Brotherhood militias to attack Jews and the Brits in the late 30s, convincing Britain to agree to limit Jewish immigration at the time when it was most desperately needed.

He started using the militias again in 1947, when the United Nations voted to divide the mandated land into a Jewish homeland and a Palestinian one.

Al-Husseini wouldn't stand for a two-state solution. He was determined to tolerate no more than the subdued, small Jewish minority of second-class citizens that he remembered from his childhood.

As armed militias increasingly ran riot, the Arab middle and upper classes increasingly left. About 100,000 left the country before May 1948, when Britain was to pull out, leaving Israel and Palestine to declare their independence.

The surrounding nations didn't want war. They largely accepted the two-state solution.

But al-Husseini lobbied HARD. And by mobilizing the Muslim Brotherhood to provide "destabilizing mass demonstrations and a murderous campaign of intimidation," he got the Arab League nations to agree to invade, en masse, as soon as Britain left.

About 600,000 Arabs fled to those countries during the ensuing war.

Jews couldn't seek refuge there; in fact, most of those countries either exiled their Jews directly, confiscating their property first, or else made Jewish life unlivable and exploited them for underpaid or slave labor for years first.

By the time the smoke cleared and a peace treaty was signed, most of the Arab Palestinian community had fled; there was no Arab Palestinian leadership; many of the refugees' homes and businesses had left had been destroyed in the war; and Israel had been flooded with nearly a million refugees from the Arab League countries and the Holocaust - even more people than had fled the war.

That was the Nakba. The one that gets portrayed as "750,000 Palestinians fled or were expelled!" in the hope that you'll assume they were expelled en masse, their beautiful intact homes all stolen.

Egypt had taken what's now the Gaza Strip in that war, and Jordan took what's now the West Bank - expelling or killing all the Jews in it first.

(Ironically, Jordan was originally supposed to be part of Israel. Britain, inexplicably, cut off what would have been 75% of its land to create Jordan.

Even more inexplicably, nobody ever talks about it. I've never seen anyone complain that Jordan was stolen from Palestinians. Possibly because Jordan is also the only country that gave Palestinian refugees full citizenship, and it's about half Palestinian now.

Israel is nearly 25% Arab Palestinians with full citizenship and equal rights, so it's not all that different -- but the fundamental difference of living in a country where the majority is Jewish, not Muslim, probably runs pretty deep.)

Anyway: that's why Palestine is Gaza and the West Bank, rather than being some contiguous chunk of land. Or being the land set aside by the U.N. in 1947.

Because Arab countries took that land in 1948, and treated them as essentially separate for 20 years.

Israel got them back, along with the Golan Heights and the Sinai Peninsula, in the next war: 1967, when Egypt committed an act of war by taking control of the waterways and barring Israel from them. It gave the Sinai back to Egypt as part of the 1979 peace accords between Egypt and Israel.

Israel tried to give back the Gaza Strip at the same time. Egypt refused.

Palestine finally declared independence in 1988.

But Hamas formed at about the same time. Probably in response, in fact. Hamas is fundamentally opposed to peace negotiations with Israel.

Again: Hamas is part of a group founded by Nazis.

Hamas has its own charter. It explains that Jews are "the enemy," because they control the drug trade, have been behind every major war, control the media, control the United Nations, etc. Basic Nazi rhetoric.

It has gotten adept at masking that rhetoric for the West. But to friendlier audiences, its leaders have consistently said things like, "People of Jerusalem, we want you to cut off the heads of the Jews with knives. With your hand, cut their artery from here. A knife costs five shekels.  Buy a knife, sharpen it, put it there, and just cut off [their heads]. It costs just five shekels."

(Palestinians were outraged by this speech. Palestinians, by and large, absolutely loathe Hamas.

It's just that it's not the same to say that to locals, as it is to say it where major global powers who oppose this crap can hear you.)

Hamas has stated from the beginning that its mission is to violently destroy Israel and take over the land.

It has received $100M in military funding annually, from Iran, for several years. Because Iran has been building a network of fascist, antisemitic groups across the Middle East, in a blatant attempt to control more and more of it: Hezbollah in Lebanon. The Houthis in Yemen.

Iran has been run by a very far-right, deeply antisemitic dictatorship for decades now, which pretty openly wants to take down both Israel and the U.S.

Last year, Iran increased Hamas's funding to $350M.

The "proof of concept" invasion of Israel that Hamas pulled off on October 7th more than justifies a much bigger investment.

Hamas has publicly stated its intention to attack "again and again and again," until Israel has been violently destroyed.

That is how this conflict came about.

A Nazi group seized power in Gaza in 2007 by violently kicking the Palestinian government out, and began running it as a dictatorship, using it to build money and power in preparations for exactly this.

And people find it shockingly easy to believe its own hype about being "the Palestinian resistance."

As well as its propaganda that Israel is not actually targeting Hamas: it's just using a literal Nazi invasion and massacre as an excuse to randomly commit genocide of the fraction of Palestine it physically left 20 years ago.

Despite the fact that Palestinians in Gaza have been protesting HAMAS throughout the war.

[meazalykov]

full of heart

alexia putellas x WAG!reader

summary: manchester city was hard on all of you, including your capi

warnings: angst

you feel the weight of the loss as you walk out of the stadium, surrounded by the noise of manchester city fans celebrating their victory. 

the cold air nips at your skin, but your thoughts are focused entirely on alexia. you had seen the way she clashed with alex greenwood during the match, a brief moment that seemed to set something off in her. 

the frustration was clear in ale’s body language, in the way she fought harder after that, but the game kept slipping further out of reach. the loss wasn’t just a loss to alexia—it was a failure to live up to the expectations she always set for herself, for her team.

you had thought about trying to catch her right after the match, but you knew better. she’s proud, so proud of barca, and after a defeat like this, she would need time to process. 

alexia is strong, determined, and fiercely independent. she always has been. you love that about her, how she can take on the world with such intensity, but you also know that it means she struggles to let anyone in when she feels vulnerable. 

so instead of waiting outside the stadium, you head back to the hotel, giving her the space she needs, knowing she’ll return to the room when she’s ready.

inside the quiet hotel room, you sit on the edge of the bed, replaying the match in your mind. every moment feels sharp and vivid, from the opening whistle to the tense exchanges between alexia and city’s defenders. 

there had been that collision with greenwood, a flash of aggression, as alex hit alexia at her ribs. alexia had smacked greenwoods hand off of her, shouting before deciding to brush it off, but you could tell it had rattled her. 

it was the kind of moment that could make or break a player’s rhythm, and tonight, it had set something off inside her.

she had been so focused, so determined, and yet, no matter how hard she pushed, barcelona couldn’t break down city’s defense. it wasn’t just the goals that hurt—it was the feeling of being outplayed, of not being able to find a way through. 

for someone like alexia, who always leads, who thrives on control and precision, that loss must have felt like a personal failure.

you sigh, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. you know she’s going to take this hard. the champions league is everything to her—it's the tournament that defines greatness in europe, the one she’s been dreaming of lifting again. 

his was supposed to be the start of another triumphant campaign, and instead, it’s a crushing reminder that nothing is guaranteed.

the door clicks open, and you sit up, your heart pounding a little faster as alexia steps into the room. she doesn’t say anything at first, just tosses her bag onto the chair and stands there, her face a tight mask of emotion. her eyes are dark, shadowed with frustration and something deeper—disappointment, maybe even doubt.

“hey,” you say softly, unsure of how to break through the wall she’s built around herself.

she doesn’t respond right away. instead, she pulls off her jacket, tossing it aside with more force than necessary, the tension in her movements betraying how tightly wound she is. she finally looks at you, her expression hard to read.

“we should’ve won,” she says, her voice low and clipped, like she’s holding back the storm of emotions raging inside her. 

“we’re barcelona. we’re supposed to be the best. how did we lose to city?”

you can hear the disbelief in her voice, the anger simmering beneath the surface. she sits down on the edge of the bed, her back to you, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the loss is pressing down on her.

“city’s been playing well,” you offer gently, knowing it’s not the answer she wants to hear, but the truth nonetheless. 

“they’ve been dominating their league. it was a tough match.”

“that’s not good enough,” alexia snaps, and then immediately takes a breath, trying to calm herself. 

“we’re supposed to be better. i’m supposed to be better.”

the way she says it makes your chest tighten. it’s not just the team she’s angry with—it’s herself. you move closer, sitting next to her, close enough that your legs are almost touching, but not quite. you don’t reach for her yet, sensing she’s not ready for that.

“it’s one game, alexia,” you say softly. 

“it’s a group stage match. there’s still plenty of time to turn it around.”

she lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “it’s not just one game. it’s the first game. it sets the tone for everything. we needed to start strong, and we didn’t. i didn’t.”

you want to tell her it’s not all on her, that the team is more than just one player, even if that player is her. you know she won’t hear it, not right now. she holds herself to impossible standards, and when she falls short of them, even by the smallest margin, it eats at her.

“you’re allowed to have off days,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm, steady. 

“you’re human, alexia.”

“not when it comes to this,” she replies, her voice almost a whisper now, as if admitting that out loud makes it all the more painful. 

“not when it comes to the champions league. i can’t afford to have off days.”

her words hang in the air between you, heavy and unresolved. you reach out slowly, placing a hand on her arm, feeling the tension in her muscles. she doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t lean into your touch either.

“you’re still the best player out there,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. 

“one game doesn’t change that.”

she exhales slowly, her shoulders relaxing just a little under your hand, but you can tell she’s still holding on to the weight of the loss. she turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours for the first time since she walked into the room. there’s a flicker of something there—gratitude, maybe, or just the need for reassurance, even if she won’t ask for it outright.

“i know you’re upset,” you continue, your fingers lightly tracing small circles on her arm, trying to ease some of the tension. “but you don’t have to carry this alone.”

alexia looks down, her jaw clenched tight. “i don’t know how to let it go,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “i hate losing.”

you give her a small, understanding smile. “i know you do. you’re not defined by one match though. you’ve got so much more ahead of you.”

there’s a long pause, and for a moment, you think maybe she’s going to keep her guard up, to push you away like she sometimes does when she’s hurting. 

then, slowly, she leans into you, her head resting on your lap, her breath warm against your thigh. it’s a small gesture, but it’s everything. 

she’s letting you in, even if just a little.

you wrap your arm around her, holding her close, feeling the tension start to melt away. “we’ll get through this,” you whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her temple. “together.”

the silence between you and alexia stretches, the only sound in the room the faint hum of the city outside. you hold her close, letting her lean into you, offering whatever comfort you can in this moment.

 

you know there's more weighing on her than just the loss. it's not just the champions league, or the clash with greenwood. it's the voices, the whispers that have been growing louder over the past few months—the ones questioning if she's still the same player she was before her acl injury.

some of the barcelona fans have been harsh, their loyalty wavering. you've seen the comments, the chatter on social media, even overheard it at the matches.

some of them think alexia isn’t as good as she used to be. they’ve started saying maybe it’s time for barcelona to move on from her, that she’s not the player who once led them to glory. 

it makes your blood boil just thinking about it. they don’t see the work she puts in, the hours of recovery, the mental and physical battle it takes to come back from something like that. they don’t understand that even if she’s changed, she’s still the best in the world.

you know alexia has heard it too, even if she doesn’t talk about it. she never lets it show, but you can see the way it’s eating at her, this doubt that she’s not quite the same. 

she’s always been her own toughest critic, but now, it feels like there’s a shadow hanging over her, one that’s hard to shake.

“they think i’m done,” alexia says suddenly, her voice quiet but steady. she doesn’t look at you, her eyes fixed on the floor, but the pain in her voice is unmistakable. 

“some of them want me gone. they think i’m not as good as i was before.”

you bite your lip, holding her a little closer, your heart aching for her. you know how much this must hurt—how much she’s given to this club, to these fans, and now some of them are turning their backs on her.

“they’re wrong,” you say firmly, your voice cutting through the stillness. “you’re still alexia. you’re still the heart of this team, and anyone who can’t see that doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

she doesn’t respond right away, her jaw clenching slightly. “i don’t feel like it sometimes,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “sometimes i feel like… maybe they’re right. maybe i’m not the same.”

you pull back just enough to look at her, your hand gently cupping her cheek, turning her face toward yours. “you’ve been through so much,” you say, your eyes locking with hers, willing her to see how much you believe in her. 

“but that doesn’t make you less. if anything, it makes you stronger. they don’t know what it’s like to come back from what you did. they don’t see the work you put in every single day. i do. and i know you’re still the best player out there.”

her eyes glisten, just for a moment, with a vulnerability she rarely shows. she blinks it away quickly, but you saw it—the doubt, the fear that maybe she isn’t enough anymore.

it breaks your heart because you know how much she loves this game, how much she’s given to barcelona, to the sport. and the thought that some people think she’s past her prime is tearing her apart.

“it’s not just about proving them wrong,” she says softly, her voice cracking slightly. 

“it’s about proving to myself that i can still be who i was.”

you shake your head gently. “you don’t have to be who you were before the injury. you’re not the same, alexia. but that doesn’t mean you’re not great. you’ve evolved, and you’re still growing. you’re still leading this team, and you’re still the player everyone looks up to. you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. not to the fans, and not even to yourself.”

for a moment, she just stares at you, the weight of your words sinking in. then, slowly, she leans up and forward, resting her forehead against yours, her breath soft and warm against your skin.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” she whispers, her voice so quiet it’s almost lost in the space between you.

“you’ll never have to find out,” you reply, your voice just as soft, your hands gently running through her hair. 

“i’m here. always.”

you stay like that for a long time, just holding her, the weight of the loss and the doubt still there, but somehow lighter now. there will definitely be other games, and other challenges for alexia to shine in.

masterlist

[todays-xkcd]

Hint: If you ever encounter this puzzle in a crossword app, just [term for someone with a competitive and high-achieving personality].

A Crossword Puzzle [Explained]

Transcript

[A square 15x15 crossword puzzle is shown. Only 21 of the 225 squares are black. The black squares are in a pattern that are 180 degree rotationally symmetrical. Three black squares down from the 11th column and similarly three black squares up from the 5th column. Three black squares out from the right in row 7 and then two more black squares diagonally up from the end. Similarly three black squares out from the left in row 9 with two more black squares diagonally down from the end. A single black square is three above the first black square on the diagonal going down to the right and similarly there is a black square three under the first of the diagonal squares going down to the left. (Row 6 column 12 and Row 10 column 4). Finally there are three black squares on a diagonal crossing over the central point by going up from the left through the central point (Row 8 column 8). There are numbers at the top of every column (except the one that is a black square) and similarly at the left edge of all rows (except the one that is a black square). There are also numbers at the bottom of every black segment (except the one that reaches the bottom) and all rows after black segments except the one that reaches the right edge. In total all numbers from 1 to 51 is written. They are written in reading order from 1 to 51.]

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51

[Below the square there are two rows of clues for each number that belongs to across (rows) and to the right there are one row of clues for each number that belongs to down (columns). Both segments have an underlined and bold title above the clues. ]

'''Across'''

1. Famous Pvt. Wilhelm quote

11. IPv6 address record

15. "CIPHERTEXT" decrypted with Vigenère key "CIPHERTEXT"

16. 8mm diameter battery

17. "Warthog" attack aircraft

18. Every third letter in the word for "inability to visualize"

19. An acrostic hidden on the first page of the dictionary

21. Default paper size in Europe

22. First four unary strings

23. Lysine codon

24. 40 CFR Part 63 subpart concerning asphalt pollution

25. Top bond credit rating

26. Audi coupe

27. A pair of small remote batteries, when inserted

29. Unofficial Howard Dean slogan

32. A 4.0 report card

33. The "Harlem Globetrotters of baseball" (vowels only)

34. 2018 Kiefer song

35. Top Minor League tier

36. Reply elicited by a dentist

38. ANAA's airport

41. Macaulay Culkin's review of aftershave

43. Marketing agency trade grp.

44. Soaring climax of Linda Eder's ''Man of La Mancha''

46. Military flight community org.

47. Iconic line from ''Tarzan''

48. Every other letter of Jimmy Wales's birth state

49. Warthog's postscript after "They call me ''mister'' pig!"

50. Message to Elsa in ''Frozen 2''

51. Lola, when betting it all on Black 20 in ''Run Lola Run''

“Down

1. Game featuring "a reckless disregard for gravity"

2. 101010101010101010101010 [sub]2→16

3. Google phone released July '22

4. It's five times better than that ''other'' steak sauce

5. ToHex(43690)

6. Freddie Mercury lyric from ''Under Pressure''

7. Full-size Audi luxury sedan

8. Fast path through a multiple choice marketing survey

9. 12356631 in base 26

10. Viral Jimmy Barnes chorus

11. Ruby Rhod catchphrase

12. badbeef + 9efcebbb

13. In Wet Let's ''Ur Mum'', what the singer has been practicing

14. Refrain from Nora Reed bot

20. Mario button presses to ascend Minas Tirith's walls

24. Vermont historic route north from Bennington

26. High-budget video game

28. Unorthodox Tic-Tac-Toe win

29. String whose SHA-256 hash ends "...689510285e212385"

30. Arnold's remark to the Predator

31. The vowels in the fire salamander's binomial name

32. Janet Leigh ''Psycho'' line

34. Seven 440Hz pulses

37. Audi luxury sports sedan

38. A half-dozen eggs with reasonably firm yolks

39. 2-2-2-2-2-2 on a multitap phone keypad

40. .- .- .- .- .- .-

42. Rating for China's best tourist attractions

43. Standard drumstick size

45. "The rain/in Spain/falls main-/ly on the plain" rhyme scheme

[jorjin]

Definitely think people are being a tad too harsh with Mbappé for saying something that was definitely dumb but not as bad as everyone's making it seem. We have heard much worse comments from other players and y'all stayed quiet about it, shut up a little on this one would ya

[kyogos]

England owe me so much therapy

[neiich]

YEEEES BOOOOOYS!!! 💗💗💗🎉🏆

MANCHESTER IS BLUE 🩵

ISTANBUL IS BLUE 🩵

EUROPE IS BLUE🩵

[snaileer]

Call to My Bedside - Part 2

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/733019972168761344/call-to-my-bedside

Danyal wakes the next time with a weight to his limbs. From the moment he opens his eyes, he realizes he is not where he is supposed to be.

This is a medical bay, but it is not in the league, the constant twittering of League doctors monitoring his health is suspiciously gone. No shadows on guard outside the door.

The most glaring thing though, there was no Lazarus Water in his veins.

Perhaps Ra’s had decided he was no longer worth the expense, had decided-

No.

It was something else. That wasn’t an option he would consider.

Danyal tested the feeling of thin metal on his right wrist. Handcuffs, not shackles. It was odd.

But again, this wasn’t the league.

But he’d need to go back before Ra’s became angry. Danyal couldn’t fail.

He glances to the door as it opens, an old man-the one from before- and a younger, slender man standing just behind him.

Danyal stays still, his breathing even, forcing his heart to stay at a constant, stable rate. He watches them, analyzing.

The old man blinks, “It’s good to see you’re awake, young sir-,” He steps into the room, left foot a second slower, old weakness?- English accent, in Europe? the man behind him follows- stiff posture, rib injury, core focused strength, gymnast, combat trained and familiar- Richard Dick Grayson, Nightwing, he’s in America, Batman- “You gave us quite the shock earlier, myself especially.”

Nightwing watched Danyal warily, he saw him as a threat, and by the angle of his feet, a threat to the older man. He remembers now, he’d attacked him before, Nightwing was here to prevent it again.

They are heroes.

He was a part of the League of the Assassins.

He doesn’t fit here, could never.

Danyal considers the merits of speaking English, he wants to, deeply, and perhaps it would even benefit the situation; but his chest clogs with fear before he can even compose a sentence. It’s been too long anyways, the League dialect is easier.

“How long have I been here?” Danyal says, still not moving enough to even jostle the cuff at his wrist.

Nightwing sighs deeply, “We rescued you and Damian from a League of Assassins boat yesterday.” The words of the language are stilted, either by unfamiliarity or awkwardness, and who’s Damian? There’s a pause, “Do you know who I am?” Nightwing asks, caution in the words.

Danyal takes a deep breath, finally sitting up, despite the rattling of the chain on the cuff, “You are Nightwing, Dick Grayson, correct?”

Nightwing nods, his eyes briefly flitting to the elder man, “And you?”

Danyal’s eyes narrow, trying to find the trap, “I am Danyal Al Ghul, Heir of the Demon’s head, Blood of the Batman.”

Danyal watches the eyebrow of the old man tick up in his peripheral.

Nightwing pinches the bridge of his nose, “God I can’t believe Talia did it again,” He murmurs under his breath. In English. And Danyal would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear the language again, even just a little.

“Perhaps it would be best to bring Master Bruce back from his meeting,” the old man says pointedly. Danyal ignores as he changes and resets the IV attached to him, familiar with the autonomous care. With or without his consent.

“I’ve already notified him, he should be here soon.”

“Very good. In the meantime,” he turns to Danyal, “I am Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne family butler. It seems I did not get the chance to introduce myself the last time you were awake.”

Danyal can’t help but blink at the almost joking tone Alfred says it with, knowing that Danyal had been the one to knock him out. It makes his lip twitch, and he silently huffs, surprising himself with the action.

The amusement vanishes as the door opens once more, footsteps barely audible in the second before.

The man standing there is large, tall and broad shouldered, strong- dangerous, calloused hands from training- his eyes stay glued to Danyal, blue and steady amidst the square jaw and sharp features, black hair tussled like he’d been rushing, just like Dad always-

Danyal feels his jaw wire shut, back straightening.

The thin chain of the handcuff jingles in the sudden silence.

This he remembers. This is Batman. The Dark Night of Gotham. The Detective.

The source of every expectation Ra’s Al Ghul has ever placed on Danyal.

He feels his face try to screw into a sneer, because he hates him and everything he’s done that has ever affected Danyal, but his face remains still. Controlled. Because there’s nothing he can do about it anyways.

Batman had introduced himself before.

As another name. A civilian. His training forces him to remember it.

Bruce Wayne.

It means next to nothing to him. But the man doesn’t stop looking.

It’s Nightwing that speaks next, “Danyal, this is Batman, Bruce Wayne, your father.” The smile is at odds with the weary tone of the words, “He was there when we saved you and Damian a few.. yesterday. God that feels like longer.”

Saved? The sentiment makes him want to scoff. He doesn’t, because Batman’s eyes already narrow with Nightwing’s words, and Danyal doesn’t need to make it worse.

A thousand more questions rush through his head. Each one bitten back with practiced force.

Instead he dips his head briefly, aiming for a show of respect, whatever that might mean here. However little he means it. Danyal can adjust regardless.

“Hn.”

Danyal lifts his head. That was the only response?

They uproot him entirely, chain him, throw him into unfamiliar waters where everything-everyone- is in new danger and all he does is grunt?

Danyal bites his tongue hard, letting his head lift, carefully non-defiant. He’s not quite sure his eyes get the message because he can feel the glare from them.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred pipes in, tone sharp.

Batman sighs, but the set of his shoulders changes, no longer so heavily lined with suspicion.

“What do you know about why Damian was-" There’s an even sharper cough from Alfred. Another sigh, “Fine. What has Talia already told you about me?”

Danyal glances between them, purposefully keeping his eyes from jumping down to the metal around his wrists.

No one else speaks.

“I know that you are Batman, the Dark Night of Gotham. You are also the detective, great enough to impress the Demon’s Head, Ra’s Al Ghul. The Demon’s daughter informed me you were dead.”

There’s a slight twitch on Batman’s face. “I survived Darkseid’s attack, although it led to me being lost in time and assumed dead for nearly a year,” Batman’s eyes flick across the room, almost considering, “Red Robin was responsible for my return just over a year ago.”

Red Robin. Timothy Drake. The one Ra’s favored. The second source of expectations placed on Danyal.

And he was lost in time? What did that consist of, what did it mean for Batman? Did it matter if it didn’t affect Danyal?

“I see.” He says. Silence lingers. They still expect him to speak. He hedges his bets, asking something he actually cares about, “Why am I here, Batman?”

The question seems to be expected and yet still strike with surprise.

“I… regrettably, did not know you were… present at the league. I do not believe in their methods and would not have left you there had I known.”

And that makes it all okay. Danyal wants to scream. But he narrows his eyes instead, only more suspicious, “And why were you there then?”

“We followed the shadows that had taken Damian. He told us who you were.”

Danyal pauses, leaning back slightly. They were willing to answer his questions, to actually talk with him. Of course they were, they were meant to be heroes.

But it had been so long since he’d actually talked with anyone other than Ra’s, and their conversations were a battleground of expectations and tests.

He fights with his conscious knowledge of this and the habits that have been beaten into him so thoroughly.

“Who is… Damian?” He asks, watching their reactions for the answer.

All three seem surprised by the question. But not angry. Of course not, he reminds himself.

“You’ve mentioned him several times like I am supposed to know who he is.” He had barely been told anything since his forceful return, and any knowledge he had from before stopped at Dick Grayson. And then Timothy Drake.

Danyal had purposefully ignored the hero world he had lived in-

He forces his eyes up to meet Batman’s, noting the hesitance in the set of his shoulders.

“Damian is… your brother. He was.. Talia’s son, before he came to me just a few years ago. He was raised in the league.”

Danyal blinks, anger disbelieving in his chest. Is that what she did?

“When.”

There’s no response, save a twitch of Batman’s eyebrow.

“When,” Danyal says again, his breathing controlled, “Did he come to you? How old was he? How long ago?”

They seem to pick up on the way Danyal’s tone has changed. Good for them.

“Nearly three years ago. He was ten.” Batman answers, voice rough. Tinged with curiosity and unfulfilled questions.

Danyal breathes deeply, his heart rate picking up against his wishes. Icy rage flares.

The beeping of the machine at his side matches the pounding in his chest, uneven, unbalanced, uncontrolled.

Keep it under control. Keep it. Under. Control.

Control is power. Control is strength. Control is the only thing that will ever be enough.

He breathes deeper. Holding his breath. Once. Twice.

The beeping is steadier with each tone.

“Danyal?” An old voice asks beside him. It’s Alfred. The butler.

Danyal shifts his jaw from its clench, “I am fine.” His eyes slide back into focus, still on Batman, “Damian is your son then.”

Batman nods solemnly, a heavier sigh through his chest, “Talia and I have had an… interesting relationship. But I loved her. Once. She has never failed to make me regret it.”

That was why she had visited him. Her words. What she had almost said. Talia had wished he was Damian, wished he was Bruce. Just not Danyal of course. The weapon she discarded for a better version. One she could love.

One who would be heir.

Batman continues, “Talia is Damian’s mother, told him he would be my heir, as I’m sure you were but-” Batman stops, looking at Danyal as confusion flicks across his face, “You weren’t.”

“I was never told I would be heir of the Batman, only of the Demon’s head.” This, at least, Danyal is familiar with, “That’s the only reason they needed me: to be their weapon made from the Demon Head’s enemy.” Danyal breathes, “A weapon does not have parents, and I have never been more than a weapon to them, crafted for the league’s purpose. For Ra’s.” 

Ra’s is the reason Danyal is alive at all. Is the only reason he has survived the league, but he is also the reason Danyal had to, no- has to survive.

Danyal drops his eyes, tired, so so tired, like he always is. Unerringly, his eyes find the shine of the metal around his wrist. Arm held carefully still to keep from jostling it, even as his other hand has found its way to his lap.

“You can’t really believe that,” Dick says, disbelief in his own voice, unsurety in the frame of an unfamiliar language.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

And it doesn’t. It only matters what he can do. That’s he’s strong. He just has to be strong enough. Ra’s is the reason Danyal suffers, has always been, and Danyal will never let him escape that.

Silence lasts. Danyal quickly grows tired of it.

Luckily, Batman breaks it, “Why were you exposed to the Lazarus waters?” He asks, voice rigid and flat once more. 

Perhaps the casualness is getting to him because Danyal manages to lift one lip in a slight sneer, “The only reason anybody uses the Lazarus Pits.”

The Batman stays silent, clearly talking about the unorthodox method of exposure they had resorted to.

Danyal sighs this time, serious, “My heart is damaged. Electricity. The pits are a short term solution for it. Grandfather had said he found a long term one.” Danyal doubts it matters now. Whatever care his grandfather’d had was fragile, dependent on Danyal’s performance. 

The palm of his left hand tingles sharply.

Would this be enough to tip the scale against him? What would he lose for being here? Who would he-

Danyal looks into Batman’s eyes, “Am I to be a prisoner here?”

The man glances over him at the two on the other side, Danyal doesn’t follow it, nor the silent conversation he’s sure is happening.

Instead, Danyal focuses his ears, senses sharpened by training, by the pits, by his accident… and turns his attention to the person hiding in an alcove above them.

Low breathing, higher pitched, the scent of sword polish and hair gel. The person was small and armed.

“You’re not a prisoner… but if you leave.. you’ll be in danger,” Batman says, voice deep, “We can’t let that happen.”

So either be followed or don’t leave. What great options.

Danyal tries not to scowl, not to show any inflection at it, “And do I have to stay here? In your…. Cave?”

“It might be difficult to move- uh.. the medical things-” Nightwing starts, but Danyal cuts him off by swiftly removing the IV tucked in the crook of his elbow.

He presses his thumb against the small well of blood as he looks forward.

Alfred shouts, jolting towards him, “Master Danyal! That is hardly sterile-“

Danyal’s eyes snap to him the moment the title leaves his mouth, heart stilling for a second, commands in his eyes. Alfred falls still.

Danyal lets it fall away the next second, barely two beats missed. The beeping starts again.

“I see.” Alfred straightens, stepping forward slowly to turn off the IV and coil it, removing other monitors, “Another one for the dramatics then.”

Nightwing steps up, hands out placatingly, “There’s..mm really no need, Danyal, uh-” He glances back to Batman, “Of course you can leave the cave-,” the next words are in bright clear English, “I’m sure there’s already a room picked out for you.”

“Right you are Master Dick,” Alfred says, “Young sir, do you need any help moving?” He directs to Danyal.

He wants to rip his hand from the metal cuff. Snap the thin chain to pieces.

Instead he looks to Nightwing, then Batman, “The restraints?” He says, voice as empty of want as he can make it.

The click of the key in the lock echoes in his ear and it’s only through practiced calm that Danyal does not immediately jerk his arm away from it. Instead, he calmly retracts his hand, bracing slightly against the bed as he turns and plants his feet on the floor.

The others have already moved out of his way, watching intently, waiting for him to fall- to fail.

Danyal straightens his legs. He stands. He breathes. He controls his heart. He walks forward.

He does not fall. He doesn’t have the option to fall.

“I can go now.” He says, looking at them. His knuckles are white on the edge of the bed.

Nightwing looks at Batman once more. The man grunts, then turns from the room in a way that he can only imagine would perfectly flare a cape.

Danyal’s feet feel like they’re filling with cement. Nightwing stares at him expectantly. Danyal understands expectations- but these ones, it leaves him helpless and-

“Follow me then, dear boys,” Alfred says, stepping in front smoothly, already moving towards the door, “We can go upstairs, I’ll start on a meal and Master Dick can show you the rooms.”

Nightwing goes next, leaving Danyal to follow not quite behind him, the angle purposeful to keep him in sight.

Nightwing casts a wary glance to him every few minutes, continuing a light chatter with Alfred. Danyal stares forward, taking in the cave from his peripheral - computer, showers, training mats, an unfamiliar shadow watching him, armory, swords, knifes, suits, cars and vehicles lined up on platforms, a t-Rex, giant penny, a glass case- Danyal lets his eyes linger on the shadow, never faltering his steps.

His neck itches at the attention.

He looks forward. Nightwing is looking at him again, snapping forward the moment Danyal’s eyes narrow. Good.

The steps are slightly narrow, dark, but they come out to a warmly lit study. Dark wood, papers, books on shelves, a portrait on the wall, pictures on the desk, three black hair boys, another of only a single with stiff posture, a ballet dancer- they keep walking. The door-clock- closes behind them like the clamping of an artery.

Nightwing and Alfred’s conversation continues in smooth, low-toned English. Danyal blinks, slowly, slower than he needs to, for a breath of a second relishing in the almost familiarity of it all, the dissonance from the last three years alone enough to well emotion in his chest.

His eyes open. He continues after them.

“This is where I’ll leave you, I’ll be up with some food young sir,” Alfred says abruptly, turning towards a swinging door that reveals a glimpse of a stainless kitchen.

“So…” Nightwing says, swinging his arms a bit at his sides, “uh… I can show you the room you can sleep in, yes?”

Danyal’s shoulders tighten, rising from a subconscious millimeter slouch. He nods stiffly.

His heart remains under control. Always under control.

“So this is the Wayne Mansion, you can go for food any time, uh…” There’s an unsure pause as they start up the stairs, “You can meet the rest of us soon maybe, a correct introduction to Damian…depends on Bruce really… he can be … over …over.”

Nightwing looks at Danyal properly, “I’m usually better at this, most of the bat kids know the League dialect but… I haven’t exactly practiced it.”

Danyal stares at him. He doesn’t want to hear the sound of the League’s twisting words, he wants to leave. He wants to find his family, protect them, get them as far away from Ra’s al Ghul and the league as possible. He wants to go back to Ra’s convince him to let his family go if Danyal stays willingly. Wants a blade strong enough to run the man through and-

“I know you are probably stressed and this is all unfamiliar but … we want you to stay… you won’t be hurt here. This is different than the league, you’re safe.”

Danyal scoffs, not bothering to stop it, he hasn’t been safe since the day he tripped over a wire and died.

Nightwing doesn’t seem surprised by the response.

“This can be your room,” He says, opening a door in the hallway and gesturing a wide arm to Danyal. “The rest of us are just down the hall.”

Danyal steps in, looking around, counting exits, tactical advantages, possible listening devices- He turns around, giving Nightwing a stiff nod, “Thank you for the room.”

Nightwing still stands at his door, “Anything else I can help with for you?” He says.

Danyal considers staying silent, obedient, but he hates hearing the language at every turn, he never wants to hear it again, the words they forced in his mouth, ripping away what was in their place-

“Can you just speak English?” He says, realizing too late how weak it sounds, “You don’t have to use the league tongue, I can-English is.. fine.” Fine. Better. Familiar. A remnant of a family he’s almost certain he’s lost now.

Nightwing barely quirks a brow, eyes flicking over him.

“Can do,” He nods, “Well then… Welcome to Wayne Manor, Danyal.”

And he closes the door behind him.

'It’s just Danny, please.' He wants to whisper to the silence. But he’s grown too used to shadows and it catches in his throat.

He goes and sits on the bed. Staring out of the window. A window he can’t leave from. Where would he go? He doesn’t have anyone, they’re all in danger because of him. He can’t leave.

He’s trapped.

Always trapped.

Bound. Stuck to one place. One thing.

Emotions well in his chest, in the back of his throat, thick and dark and painful. He wants to cry. He can’t. Emotions constrict around his lungs.

And Danyal sits, staring at the wall, wishing he could cry. But the emotions just twist themselves until they’re tight enough, heavy enough to fall down, settle back like a layer of heavy chainmail over his insides.

Danyal turns on the bed, facing the wall.

It’s empty tan-beige. Neutral colors. No personality. Temporary.

This is familiar to him. This he can do.

Danyal stands again, he strips down his tunic, his shin-guards and pants- notes the lack of his typical weapons- methodically placing it on the dresser. Not his dresser, he already has one, painted blue with yellow stars back in-

Danyal gets in the shower, glad to find soap there, contemplating not using it, not wasting the energy. He watches condensation develop on the glass walls, water droplets collecting until they finally rush down the glass.

His finger lifts, already wanting to trace the letters he knows. Three lines, an H. One. i. Or e, he could write hello. Or ghost. Mom. Dad. Jazz, Sam, Tucker. Write it in English so he wouldn’t forget the way they were meant to be spelled, let the water wash it away.

His fingers ache where they’d been broken for it. For tracing letters in dirt or on mirrors, in the foggy glass at night. A break for every word.

Danyal can see his hand shake, inches from the glass. Pain and fear a leech on his bones.

He drops the hand. Turns to wash away the soap and get out, towels left on the counter.

He doesn’t even glance at the mirror as he goes out.

His tunic is where he’d left it, neatly set on the dresser top… but…

Danyal opens the drawers, changing into the boxers, the next one is dress pants and collared shirts, but in the third-

Rough denim scuffs against his fingertips.

They’re dark wash jeans, fancy and nothing like the ones his mom would buy on sale from the thrift store but…

He doesn’t let himself debate it further, he has to wear clothes and no one is here to tell him which. They put them here so they should expect him to wear it- it could be a test but he doesn’t care, let them do what they want if only to pretend the jeans are stiff from ectoplasm stains instead of fresh starch.

He chooses a white t-shirt, ignoring the collared shirts and polos that are probably meant to go over it.

He breathes, letting his shoulders drop, tilting his head back with his eyes closed, pretending for only a second that he’s getting dressed for school. Jazz is across the hall getting her books together, Sam and Tuck are on their way to walk together, his parents are already downstairs working.

'See?' He wants to say, 'I’m still the same person, nothings changed!'

The metal of the door knob clicks and Danyal’s head snaps towards the sound.

There’s nothing. Danyal doesn’t trust it, eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes the tall double doors.

“I know you’re there!” he calls out, fists ready, “Open the door and show yourself or I will!”

There’s a harsh tutt behind the door before it swings open, revealing a kid standing there. Short, black hair- hair gel-, dress slacks and shirt hiding multiple bladed weapons-

“Clearly I meant for you to know I was here, I am not incompetent,” The kid scoffs. So Nightwing wasn’t lying about them all knowing the league dialect…. Yet somehow, it sounds different coming from the kid, familiar in a way that makes Danyal's skin burn. He looks irritated, arms crossed in front of him even while his eyes wander over the room and Danyal with curiosity. And judgement.

Danyal rolls his eyes at it, “Did you need something from me, or did you just want to stand there looking like a hair gel commercial?”

The boy’s face goes red impressively fast, “How dare you-” he moves- and a knife is flying at his face, Danyal dodges, catching it in a second, shifting to throw it back but stops, half way extended. He looks at the hilt, there’s a League marking engraved on the bottom no larger than a droplet.

Danyal's eyes flick up to the boy still standing in front of him, glaring him down.

That’s all it takes before the boy jumps forward, another knife in his hand.

Danyal blocks it, twisting the arm as he drops his own acquired knife to his other hand and lunges forward.

The boy flips over his arm, and Danyal doesn’t let his surprise show as he reaches to grab the second knife he’d forced the kid to drop.

The boy tutts at him again, “So this was who Mother replaced me with? Street rabble?”

Danyal blinks, Mother? Then it clicks.

So this was Damian. The child the demon’s daughter wanted, beloved by all. Treasured. Preserved.

Danyal grits his teeth against the bitter taste in his mouth. He lunges forward, already expecting the larger dagger Damian uses to block him as he’s forced to retreat.

Danyal doesn’t stop, continuing to press him, “The Demon’s Daughter is no mother of mine,” he spits as he slams a kick against Damian’s elbow, blade dropping once more. Danyal cuts a shallow slash across Damian’s left cheek before dropping his own stolen knives.

He doesn’t stop though, continuing to push Damian back- Damian swerves to the side, grabbing his arm, flipping him, Danyal retaliates, grabbing the others shirt and taking him with him.

He catches his feet a second before the other, using it to pin him face to face with Danyal’s arm at his throat, “Maybe if you were good enough, you wouldn’t have had to be replaced at all and I never would have been forced to be here, this is your fault. I was free,” He grits out, teeth bared, “You got to live these last three years because I paid for it, and you’re angry because they don’t want you!?”

There’s something startling in Damian’s wide eyes, “What are you talking about?” He snaps, “I am Damian Al Ghul, Heir to the League, Ibn al X-“

Danyal slams him harder against the floor, cutting him off. Green simmers, almost boiling, under his skin. He grits his teeth harder against the sharp pain through his chest.

He leans closer to Damian, snarling, his grip bruising, “You don’t even know what you escaped, what Ra’s really wanted with you, do you? What being heir means. You’re nothing more than a -”

Damian jerks his head upwards, colliding with Danyal’s forehead and knocking him back with a grunt. Danyal’s grip loosens momentarily and Damian pulls free.

He slams a palm strike into Danyal’s front, pain lancing through his chest as he gasps, heart convulsing.

He moves through it by force, both rolling off each other with violent hands.

They stand opposite each other once more. Blood drips from the cut on Damian’s cheek. Danyal’s ragged breaths join Damian’s in the silence. He can hear footsteps on the stairs. His heart clenches in his chest painfully. There’s barely enough Lazarus water in his veins to keep it pumping for a week, less if he keeps this up.

The door flings open with a slam, both of them turning to look.

Batman stands there, battle calm in his eyes.

Damian turns fully at the sight of his father, but Danyal doesn’t shift from his stance.

“Father, I-“ Damian starts, but Batman just lifts a hand, silencing him.

“What. Happened.” Batman says, looking straight at Danyal, not even a question. A demand. Green tinted steel shoots up Danyal’s spine and he does nothing but glare back at the man.

Batman doesn’t break eye contact, “Damian.”

“I was determining if he was a threat. He is from the League, Father,” Damian says  shortly, standing tall despite the blood on his face.

Batman looks between them briefly, and oh what a picture they must make.

Two kids, both born in the same cage, one trying to claw his way out of the chains and the other trying to fight his way in.

Exhaustion washes over Danyal, and he drops his fists, letting them hang by his sides.

Batman hums, barely a sound, but a muscle twitches in Damian’s jaw.

“Father-“

“Go Damian. Now.”

Damian looks back at him, not-quite-hate in his eyes, before dropping to a crouch to grab the knife closest to his feet with one hand and turning to leave.

Faced with Batman’s sole attention, Danyal lifts his chin defiantly, daring him to take action, to punish him, to do something that he can predict, can defend, can justify the anger he feels when he sees him.

“I know it was different in the league, but here, this is not acceptable.”

Danyal half-scoffs. He finally steps out of his stance, “I could leave.”

“That’s not-” Batman pinches the bridge of his nose, voice like gravel, “I am trying to protect you, the manor is not the league. I understand what it must have been like to be raised like that, but you can’t hurt others, no matter what teachings you’ve had. I can guarantee you won’t be hurt here, I won’t let-”

Danny huffs a dry laugh, “You won’t let?” He steps forward, rage bubbling back up, “Hurt me? I’m not worried about me, Batman. You can’t stop him. Ra’s is going to get what he wants, and as long as that is me, everyone around me is in danger, I’m dangerous. I'm a weapon, a weapon of your enemy. You can’t fix that, can you?”

“We can protect ourselves-”

Danyal scoffs again, “Because you’ve done such a good job of that already? Don’t forget, all of this is because of you, they wanted you, and now they want me because of you, Batman. You.”

Something stricken shoots through the man’s face before it flattens. Batman nods and steps back, a hand on the doorhandle, “Don’t leave.” Is all he says, before the door clicks shut.

Danyal feels the walls closing in on him like a cell.

He looks to his left.

The bathroom door is open. He can see his reflection in the mirror, any condensation gone.

Danyal stares.

When he had been younger, back in- before. Danyal would stand in front of a mirror and pick out parts he thought looked like his parents. Like a Fenton. His shoulders were from Jack obviously. His eyes and hair too. His jawline was from Maddie, his hands from Jack, and the love of engineering and planning from Maddie. He had the same legs as his mom. Same voice as his dad, always loud. If he didn’t look too hard, he could almost convince himself he was really their kid, their son.

But he could never quite place his tanned skin, or the texture of his hair. The shape of his eyes and nose. Always just a little bit wrong.

What had pretending done but put them in danger?

Danyal turns on his heel, flicking the lights off and putting a glass soap bottle on the door handle.

He knew he’d wake up regardless… but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Danyal rubs his chest with the heel of his palm as he lays down on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, staring out at the city beyond the window glass.

How close would he come to freedom before he’d have to give it up again?

And he knew he would.

For his family, he would give the Demon’s Head anything.

Everything.

If that’s what it took.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend he would fall asleep.

———

Bruce runs over Danyal’s words again and again during the flight.

'This is because of you, Batman,'

He flicks a switch.

'You.'

The landing gear lowers.

'You can’t fix this.'

He can see the way the shadows of the forest twist around the clearing.

'Dangerous.'

Wheels touch grass. Batman lands at the coordinates, just on the side of the field in front of the woman waiting for him.

'Because of you.'

He breathes.

“My Beloved, how are you?” She greets him as he descends the ramp.

Bruce says nothing. He cannot even begin to fathom what he would say if he did.

Instead, he stares at her. A woman who had once meant so much to him, whom he had nearly thrown away everything for. And who had nearly done the same for him.

But she hadn’t. Wouldn’t. And it had hurt him, but he had recovered.

And then she hurt him again.

She had stolen and lied to him in his vulnerability.

And still, he had found himself loving her.

Had allowed her to continue hurting him. Again and again. Out of a vain hope that she would change. Because he thought that he could change her. That she would change for him.

It was foolish. It was senseless.

Yet he found it just as impossible to stop.

And so she had hurt him again.

“Talia.” Her name grated against his heart, “Why did you not tell me I had another son?”

“The boy is no more yours than he is mine, Beloved,” She says with a roll of her eyes, as if explaining a basic fact, “He belongs to my father. And to the league.”

Bruce is silent. He notices a slight bruise forming on her left cheek.

Talia’s face is tight, “Do you not care about the son I have given you? Has Damian not satisfied you?”

Bruce feels the leather of his gauntlets stretch over his clenched fists.

“I deserved to know,” He near growls, “Just as I did Damian, just as I did with Jason. You cannot continue to keep my children from me-“

“If it was not for that boy, you would not have met Damian at all,” Talia snaps.

Bruce blinks. Hard.

“His return brought Damian into your arms, you should be grateful.” She spits at him like an accusation, “Damian is ours, Bruce. From our love. That boy was made before we truly knew each other, before we understood each other as we do now. He was borne of nothing more than my father’s obsession. Damian is our son, not him.”

“His name is Danyal, Talia!” Bruce bellows, “He is a child, and he is a person! Just like you, and me, and Damian, and he deserves more than to be written off as one of Ra’s al Ghul’s projects! He deserves better than this!” Than us, he doesn’t say. Deserves better than him.

Talia straightens from already perfect posture, “I made a choice Bruce, for Damian. To protect Damian. I knew our son was never meant to bear my father’s hands, he was never meant to be what Danyal is.” Talia pauses, eyes sharp on him, and he can see when she chooses her next words. Already knows they are meant to cut him, to hurt him. He steels himself and listens anyways.

“Perhaps you should ask him where he’s been all these years I’ve supposedly kept him from you, Beloved.” She says coyly, stepping forward.

“What are you talking about.”

She takes another step, “The truth of the matter is that Danyal could have gone to you any time he wanted. He chose not to. Chose to stay away.”

He stays silent.

“Oh- Did the boy not tell you?“ Talia says, barely hiding the falseness, “Danyal was living in America before he returned to his rightful duty. Almost didn’t work, but…” Talia hummed, “His gifts were fortuitous in the end. A risk well calculated, my father’s doing I suspect.”

Talia almost seems blaisé as she talks about it, but he can see the way it irks her. Her father had tricked her. Somehow. Or had manipulated her into some choice she hadn’t known about.

Batman says nothing, analyzing, taking in clues.

“Beloved,” Talia sighs, “Surely you must know, the boy must return.”

“And surely you know: I can’t let that happen.”

Talia glowers at him.

“It’s him or Damian, Bruce, you must choose, just as I did.”

“No.” Bruce growls.

“You cannot have both,” She snaps at him.

Batman stands firm, staring her down, resolute.

“You invite his anger on them both,” She snarls, “You save no one.”

Batman ignores the words. He has made it his job to make sure that’s not true. He’ll die before it is.

“Fine.” She snaps again. But she lingers for a few seconds more. The lines of her face softening.

“I remember I once loved that same unbending drive.”

It feels odd to hear her confirm something he’s not sure ever really existed.

Then Talia turns away and walks into the forest. Shadows contort and reform around her at the edges of the clearing. Slowly emptying until there’s nothing left but the trees and the grass and him, standing alone at the center of it all.

He turns to leave.

He won’t choose between his children.

He climbs the ramp.

He will protect them.

He sits down in the pilots chair, flicking switches and gears.

All of them.

Engines roar to life below him.

He will not fail.

And yet… he cannot forget her words. Twisted they may be, and just as easily lies.. but, her irritation at her father’s plans… he had always been good at telling when it was real.

'Living in America… chose to stay away,'

Living in America?

Had he been secluded at one of their bases here? Had it even been close?

Had Danyal been just miles away, suffering, and Bruce hadn’t known?

But it felt wrong. What Talia had said sat like a jagged puzzle piece, poking and prodding at him, not quite fitting the theories he threw at it.

‘Returned.’

Did she only mean returned to the League’s home base? Closer to their original strongholds in Asia?

It didn’t make sense. She would have crafted the words differently, to drive her point home.

She’d said ‘supposedly kept him from you’ like she hadn’t. Like she hadn’t kept Danyal hidden, the way she had Damian. It didn’t add up.

She could have just been lying. Bruce didn’t think she was. It couldn’t be that simple. No, there was something specific about the way she’d phrased it all, like she was telling him a secret. Like it was something Ra’s had hidden. Like something Danyal was hiding.

Batman narrowed his eyes, staring out at the landscape in front of him as it rushed past.

Whatever it was, whatever she wasn’t telling him, Batman needed to figure it out before it came back to hurt him or his family. Danyal included.

Then there was the rest of it.

The ‘gifts’ that Talia had mentioned.

He knew Danyal had been forced to interact with the Lazarus waters, but he didn’t know to what extent. What it had done to him.

It’d had an effect on him, that much was clear by the acid green of his eyes when he stood off against them in the Batcave. And earlier when Bruce had first interrupted the fight with Damian.

He didn’t even think Danyal had noticed they were glowing then. Too defensive to think about it. Or perhaps he was used to it.

How many times had he been submerged? Had been so injured that Ra’s saw fit to put him in?

How many times had Bruce not been there to protect him from it?

Even if he was only acting out of defensiveness… was that not Bruce’s fault too?

That he still felt unsafe in the Manor. That he didn’t know if Bruce would act the same as Ra’s, as the League.

And Danyal was right, he was responsible for the pain the league caused him, for them hunting him. If he had never let himself be pulled into Talia’s web- or if she was to be believed… even before that.

When exactly? When had Batman become enough of a threat that Ra’s had decided to use him? Was it because he had refused to be his heir? Or before that? Before or after Dick? Jason?

He doesn’t even know how old Danyal is. How long Batman had let him suffer because of h-

“I do hope you aren’t planning to brood like this with your children around, Master Bruce,” Alfred says, cutting through his thoughts, “I don’t believe your pride would survive the repercussions.”

Bruce glances at the monitor Alfred has decided to call from.

“Hn.” Bruce grumbles.

Alfred is right, his children would tease him mercilessly for ‘brooding’ as they called it. If only Dick at least, who hasn’t missed a chance to do so since he’d been a freshly christened Robin.

How would Danyal fit into that? Would he grow to tease like the others? Or remain stoic like Damian?

“I’ll be approaching in 30 minutes, A.” He says. ‘Will Danyal be there?’ He doesn’t say.

Alfred says nothing in response. The engines fill the silence.

He grits his teeth, he just wants to know the situation, to stay updated, he wants to know if something’s happened or anything’s changed.

He sighs, forcefully loosening his jaw, “Who’s going out tonight?”

“Mm, I believe Miss Brown and Master Tim were discussing going together. Master Thomas is in bed, as is usual, though he did mention he’d be out early.. and I believe Madame Cassandra is staying in. She seems to have found a new project.”

Batman hums in confirmation. He wants to know what Cass had found interesting. More than that, he wants to know if Danyal was okay, Damian too.

“It seems it circles around our newest resident, though she hasn’t shown herself to him yet. Master Dick also seems to think the young sir is his duty as much as Master Damian had been.”

Batman feels his lips tug downwards as he grunts in response. Damian’s first year with them was… a regret. His own absence was devastating. He’d have to find some way to assure Dick that Danyal wasn’t his responsibility this time, that he could still be his own person. Perhaps he should encourage Dick to return to Blüdhaven. Affirm the family would be alright without him.

Batman sees Gotham’s cloud of smog come into view. The bay follows soon after, and the buildings next.

“I’m coming in now.”

“Very good sir.” Alfred answers, nodding in his peripheral before the call clicks off.

When the Batplane arrives to the cave, Alfred is nowhere to be seen. The other’s suits are missing as well, meaning they are already out for the night.

Batman doesn’t pause more than to look around, already heading to the Batcomputer with determined steps.

He enters his access codes, running through his security checks unconsciously, mind spinning on theories and clues.

He picks apart his and Talia’s interaction again and again, trying to pull everything he can from it and put it into his report file. Maybe if he can just read over it again, remember something else, maybe it will be enough to protect Danyal, maybe it will be enough to stop Ra’s, maybe it will be enough understand why Talia did this to h-

A gentle hand slides over his just as his finger goes to slam the enter button of the keyboard.

He looks over his shoulder, already recognizing the feeling of stitching against his suit.

Cass looks at him meaningfully. Her gentle hand shifts into a lean against his arm, the pressure a comfort. She stares up at the Batcomputer and reads through his writing piece by piece.

Bruce waits for her. He knows she struggles with so many words. Knows that she gained more from watching him type it than she will from reading an exact account but the details will be helpful anyways.

She nods to him, fingers tapping lightly against his arm as she thinks it over, scanning and rescanning the document.

Cass has been developing fidgets recently, small twitches of movement that don’t serve a purpose than to let her move.

Bruce wants to smile every time. He’s pretty sure they’re on purpose, but still.. it’s freedom for her.

She nudges him, reaching for a button across the keys. It flicks to a camera screen a second later.

The one in Danyal’s room.

Bruce feels a twinge of guilt at the disappointment Cass aims at him before they both refocus on the image.

The empty image.

Danyal is not in the room, and Bruce feels his eyebrows scrunch as he goes to pull up the other camera feeds to locate him, make sure he hasn’t been taken-

“Downstairs.” Cass says.

Batman gets a half turn around, checking the cave for a foreign presence, before Cass stops him again.

She points to the screen, drawing his attention to a bottom square.

Danyal stands in the hallway of the manor, staring at the portraits on the walls.

He feels a light tap on his shoulder in parting before Cass’s presence at his side disappears silently.

He stares up at the figure of his son standing in the hallway, mind still whirring about possibilities and clues and lies and secrets.

Danyal continues to stand in front of the portrait for another minute, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

He rips his eyes away from the portrait, turning down the hallway and ducking into the kitchen.

It’s empty when he gets there. Then again, the whole mansion had seemed empty. Aside from the ever constant, ever familiar feeling of eyes weighing down on him.

Danyal considers making himself food.

He considers jumping out of the window and seeing how far he could get.

He wonders if their cabinets have something he’d know and could do himself or if he’d be hopelessly lost.

He wonders how long it will take for the Demon’s Head to find him. Wonders what he’ll do when he does. Wonders if his-

He stops himself short.

“May I offer you some tea and snacks, young sir?”

Danyal turns slightly to face the old butler-Alfred- who’d entered behind him and nods.

Can he even say no?

Alfred gestures to a chair set up by the built in breakfast nook.

He sits. Even as the domesticity of it all throttles his heart in his chest. The way they must eat together every morning, appear together in every photo, smiling. A family portrait. Batman’s family. Batman got to keep his. But Danny’s is tra-

Danyal breathes purposefully, staring down at his hands, clenching them tighter.

Suddenly a hand reaches across his vision, pressing a button on an ancient looking miniature TV sitting just tucked into the kitchen corner.

It flickers to life on some random news channel, low mindless chatter softening the air.

Danyal feels his shoulders lower slightly, just barely, as the silences retreats. He glances up, expecting to find Alfred there staring at him, questioning him, why he’s acting like this, why he-

Alfred’s back is to him. The man busy at the stove with the tea kettle.

“I hope you like lemon ginger tea,” the man says, getting a small jar from a cupboard, “It’s been quite a bit since I’ve had the opportunity to make some.”

Danyal doesn’t quite trust it, still watching the man warily. He doesn’t understand why they would welcome him into their house, Batman or no, he was a threat to them. He was nothing but a threat.

“How about something to eat?”

Danyal watches the man move over to the fridge.

Something moves in his peripheral and his eyes jump to the side.

Narrowed eyes comb over the fancy china case against the wall. But he can’t see anything odd. The glass is clear, refracted reflection shining back him over the china. A dark phone sitting on the ledge. Dark wood pressed against the wall. He doesn’t know what he saw.

Alfred sets a small plate down in front of him with a light clatter, immediately turning back as the tea kettle begins to screech.

The movement makes a small carrot tumble off, rolling across the counter to Danyal.

He stares at it.

He breathes in, out, in out, in out in out too fast. Too fast-

A finger rolls to a stop in front of him and he can only stare at it as strong arms grip and pull him back, keeping him restrained.

Granite counters blend until they are stone floors.

He can’t look away from it. Confusion bleeds in with denial and regret and bloodthirsty stubbornness.

“Look at me, boy.”

Danny’s head is jerked back by his hair, forcing his eyes up to his instructor.

The man glares down at him.

“I have taught warriors better than you by a thousand, and you dare to try to escape under my hand?”

Danny tries to grin, barely managing a crude sneer, coppery blood in his teeth, “You should have kept a better eye on me, you fucking nutcase.”

His eyelid flicks closed automatically as cold gunmetal rests against it.

“Say that again.”

Danny swallows his regret, in for a penny in for a pound. He juts his chin up, forcing the man to follow the movement with his gun.

“What, were you dropped as a bab-” His open eye strains to see his instructor’s thumb press down the hammer of the gun. A warning.

He can feel his hands shake under the assassins hold. His throat burns.

“You scared of a chil-?” He barely has time to register the hand moving before the butt of the gun slams into his nose with a sickening crack.

Pain floods his face. He gets half a shout out before his chin is grabbed by unforgiving hands.

He stares into the man’s cold eyes.

Danny says nothing. Too focused on trying to breathe when his nose is filling with blood and his mouth is clamped nearly shut.

“Better.”

He resists the urge to spit in the man’s face as he steps back, straightening and waving a hand to the assassins. Even without their hands on him he can feel their presence looming behind him.

Danny drops his head, curling in on himself as much as he can, trying to ignore the feeling of blood as it slides down his face.

His eyes are left to stagnate on the finger thrown to the ground in front of him.

Pale skin stands stark against dark floors, contrasted by blood and dirt marring it. He can see the calluses and small scars.

He doesn’t understand.

He might.

He doesn’t want to.

“You are not the only one I can punish to get my point across, boy.”

He looks closer at the finger. At the nicks of careless knives and tools, of a hand that had cradled- no- please no-

“The oaf was very insistent it be him.”

Danny snaps his head up, fear striking through his chest, “No! Please-“ he catches himself, “Please don’t hurt them! They don’t- Hurt me, just me! They don’t deserve it, they didn’t do anything-!”

Sharp eyes stab into him. Fury behind them.

“Hurt me, Master Shrike, just me. Please.”

There’s a pause as the man continues to stare down at him before he lifts one lip in a sneer, “Do you think you command me, child?”

Danny freezes, “I don’t- I- No, Master. I don’t.”

“Then why,” Shrike near growls, “Do you beg me? Why do you plead like you have a right to ask for anything?”

“I don’t-” 'I don’t understand,' he starts to say but he’s cut off by Shrike’s boot hitting his face. He’s learned by now when not to dodge. He can’t give them another reason to hurt his family.

A second kick lands.

“You will be quiet!”

Danny waits for a beat, then slowly pulls himself up from the floor, not lifting his eyes.

He can still see his father’s finger on the floor.

“You do not command me. You are a tool! A weapon in the Demon’s hand! I choose to act, to punish or break you! You do not act, do not speak until you are to be used!”

Danyal stays silent.

He wants to scream, to fight back, they train him and they train him but he can’t fight back because if he does- his eyes flick to the bloodied finger.

He can let them. For his family, he can let them call him a weapon, can let them say he has no will. He can do this one thing.

He’s not giving up, he tells himself. But for his family’s safety, he can let them think he is. Just this once.

Danny stops, eyes shutting for just a second as he bends into a kneel, holding his hands up in front of him.

There’s a pause, cruel satisfaction radiating off the man in front of him.

Danyal licks his lips, steeling himself, “I am ready for my lesson,” Danny forces the words out, “Master Shrike.”

He doesn’t bother to look up and see the man’s sneer.

“Good.”

He sees the kick coming.

He still doesn’t move.

He stays still.

The world moves around him. Voices. Muttering. The sound of dishes, water being poured.

There’s a carrot.. orange and bright in front of him.

His heart is beating too fast. His eyes sting.

Calm down. Control it. Control it. Stop, stop-

A tea cup clatters in front of him.

“Sir Danyal, are you quite alright?” He hears someone ask. Alfred. It’s Alfred. Batman’s butler. He’s not-

He tries to speak, ‘I’m fine’ he tries to say. But his throat constricts. He simply nods, staring down at the carrot.

A freaking carrot.

It’s ridiculous.

He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s. Fine.

Danyal takes a deep breath. He breathes out. Silently.

He does it again.

He holds it until his heart slows down, stops stuttering from beat to beat.

He breathes out.

He reaches for the tea, ignoring the eyes on him-always watching him- ignoring the way his hands shake.

He drinks the tea. Let’s it burn his throat and distract him.

He breathes.

Alfred does not turn to look at him. Staying busy at the sink with dishes that already look clean.

He is thankful.

He breathes.

Low murmurs fill impenetrable silence. Danyal drags his eyes over to the small TV.

His breath stops.

A banner of words crawls across the bottom of the screen.

‘DalvCo factories shutting down after mass destruction.’

He tries to tear his eyes away.

‘Four buildings exploded just after midnight on Saturday in downtown Chicago, Elmerton, and Red Lake. 12 workers dead. Police have not caught the perpetrators.’

And they won’t.

Danyal can recognize a message.

He knows what it means. Who is sending it.

He tries not to let it show how his mind begins spinning. Churning out plans and strategies- If an attempt had cost his father a finger, what would they do to them now, because of Danyal?- he had to fix this.

He looks down to his shaking hands. He stops them. And the tea in his cup stills.

He stops. Pauses. He eyes Alfred still at the sink without looking up.

He places it just on the edge of the counter. Then turns away and lets go.

The cup falls.

It shatters against the floor. Danyal jumps up from his seat at the same time Alfred turns around.

“What’s happened?” He says, already hustling over with a towel. “Are you hurt?”

Danyal steps away and around him, towards the door.

He almost bumps into the display case until the reflection of light off the phone catches his eye. A small ballet sticker sits on the back of the case.

His hand moves before he can think and slips it into his pocket. He looks at Alfred.

“It’s no trouble, Young Danyal,” Alfred says as he crouches over where Danyal had been sitting, “I’ll clean this up and get you more. You can help me prepare for breakfast-“

Danyal considers knocking him out, so he can’t stop him, or alert anyone, but a body is more suspicious. Instead he paints his face with fear and steps out of the room as quick as he can.

He turns down the hallway, trying to remember where he’d walked from the cave.

Mere hours ago.

He goes the opposite direction, following a halls as far to the outer edges of the mansion as he can, typing in Vlad’s number with nervous hands as he goes.

He makes a final turn before he opens a window, glances backwards, and jumps out.

He lands in a roll, already running. His finger presses call and he listens to the phone ringing as he runs.

Once. Twice. He swipes branches out of his way. Three times. Four. Five. Six.

‘We’re sorry the number-‘

Danyal hangs up and presses again.

He doesn’t stop running.

He just has to protect them. He has to warn Vlad. Warn whoever he can. Tell someone.

It rings again. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Six- ‘We’re sorr-‘

Danyal presses it again and runs faster.

If he can get caught by the League maybe Ra’s will overlook it. Maybe he can still protect them. He can fix this. Please just let him fix this.

‘We’re s-‘

He tries again.

And Danyal continues rushing through the woods, wishing his feet would carry him faster, further, higher-

The sound of his steps pounds in his ears. The phantom feeling of eyes on his back.

He slams his finger down on Vlad’s number again, letting the dial tone drown his heartbeat out.

Once. Twice. Three times, Frick! Vlad pick up! Four- the speakerphone clicks.

“Vlad!”

There’s barely a pause, “DANNY!?”

Danny nearly trips, his heart stuttering dangerously, hopefully.

“Dani?…” He says, then jolts to his senses and continues running, a glance thrown behind him, “Dani, how do you have Vlad’s phone, are you okay? Have you been to Amity?”

“Danny, where the hell are you!? I’ve been looking all over for-“

“Dani, you have to listen okay, there’s dangerous people after me- after us-“ Danyal jumps another log, scaling a small stone wall, “You can’t fight them, you have to run, they’ve got my family, Tuck, Sam-“

“Danny wait no listen to me-!”

“You can’t fight them! You can’t, okay!?” Danny scans his eyes back and forth frantically as he runs, mind spinning, calculating how he’s going to get out, away, controlling his heart rate as much as he can, “You have to promise me! Just find Vlad, get out of Amity. Warn him- I couldn’t - my parents- you have to-“

“Danny, listen to me!” Dani yells, stopping him in his tracks.

“Your parents are out, Danny,” She says, voice rushed, but his ears barely hear it. “They escaped, they called us weeks ago to start looking for you- Danny, they’re out.”

She goes quiet. Waiting for Danny.

His parents were-

Danny draws in a deep breath, standing stock still in the middle of the trees, stolen phone still pressed to his ear.

He couldn’t believe it.. they were-

Something clangs against a tree behind him and Danyal whips around ready to-

His head blossoms with pain.

Everything goes dark.

This is included in my one-shot collection(for now) on Ao3, under same name. The collection is Things that Could Exist by Snaileer.

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/760212137159294976/call-to-my-bedside-3?source=share

Tags:

@thecrystallabyrinth @isnt-that-grape @riverdancingwerewolves @mimblizzy @chaos-deimos-et-eris @miraculousandmore2 @mys-tia @jitteryjuttury @moonlight-opal @nerdypaintbrush @thedragonqueen1998 @luminanightfall @cowarddragon @cyrwrites @kamireadsmcu

[macozetlerihd]

#Borussia #Dortmund 1-0 #Paris #Saint #Germain #Europe #Champions #League #Half #Final #Match #Highlights & #Goal

[rebelliousneferut]

private but not secret | jude bellingham

summary; when fans found out who jude is dating

genre; smau

face claim; jade picon

note; this is my first smau so let me know if there's anything I can do better next time. english is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes.

masterlist!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

yourusername uploaded to their story;

[caption 1: finally, I'm free and ready for this summer!] [caption 2: roses from someone special 🤍]

judebellingham: I love you babe 😍

judebellingham: i can't wait to see you this week in wembley

yourusername: I love you my golden boy!

yourusername: i'm so excited!! it will be the first time I go to a champions league final so you better win

judebellingham: all for you baby

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, vinijr, trentarnold66 and others

yourusername: hello london

judebellingham: hello beauty

❤️ liked by the author

minabonino: we need to have a girls date!

jobebellingham: hello

yourusername uploaded to their story;

[caption: supportive girl]

judebellingham: you are the best

judebellingham: i love you so much, thank you for being by my side

vinijr: HALAAA MADRIIIDDDD 🤍🤍

trentarnold66: cheater

judebellingham

liked by yourusername, vinijr, brahim, judebfan and others

judebellingham: CHAMPIONS OF EUROPE!!! 🏆 Siempre HALA MADRID 🤍

yourusername: well done golden boy!

❤️ liked by the author

judebellingham: thanks pretty girl

user1: hello!!!??

user2: who are you girl?

user3: why did he like all her photos 😭😭

vinijr: Love u

brahim: judeee 🤍🤍

footballwags

liked by user1, user2 and others

footballwags: jude and his rumored girlfriend were seen together last night celebrating his first champions league.

user1: what do you mean "rumored girlfriend"? that's not me in the photo...

user2: he is cheating on me 😭😭😭

user3: i can understand jude, she's so pretty

user4: i bet you she is with him for his money

user5: he told you that?

user6: shut the fuck up. you don't know her

user4: it's obvious guys, she is not famous and doesn't seem to be on his level

user6: and you are?

user7: I agree with you

user8: rumours has it that they met when he go to madrid and started dating a couple of months later. she is studying business and they already live together

user9: wtf how do you know that girl

itsforjude

liked by yourusername, user1, user2 and others

itsforjude: jude with fans tonight!

user1: he's so fine I can't believe he's taken 😭😭

user2: don't believe nonsense. those are just rumours until he confirms something.

user3: look at yn's last post, it looks like she was in the same place as jude.

user4: maybe they are just friends?

user3: idk, I think there is something more between them.

user5: omg!! let them live for god's sake.

user6: why is she in the likes???

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, vinijr, landonorris, footballwags and others

yourusername: from last night 🌃✨

judebellingham: beauty 😍

❤️ liked by the author

itsforjude: are you two dating??? tell us please 🥺

user1: please tell us what's going on between you and jude girl 😭

user2: I can't say anything bad because she's pretty I just need to have more ynjude content 😭

user3: FRRR!!!

user4: i can't accept he has a girlfriend and is not me...

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

part 2