#lioness series
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comic-book-jawns · 1 year ago
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Cruz & Aaliyah || “Wish the Fight Away”
Special Ops: Lioness 1.07
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mysweetsinfulobsessions · 1 year ago
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"You're not leaving."
Aaliyah & Cruz in Special Ops: Lioness
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wicked-berry · 1 year ago
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Special Ops: Lioness 1x07
she gone-gone
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hopeless-romantic17177 · 1 year ago
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I wish they'd hurry an announce Special Ops season 2. Even just a small confirmation we will get a 2nd season, I need those two to to be able to talk. I need aaliyah to know that cruz really loves her because I bet she was thinking that cruz never actually felt anything for her and it was all an act.
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the-royal-blue-network · 13 days ago
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alphacentaurinebula · 1 year ago
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Small break from regularly scheduled good omens content because I finally watched the end of Lioness and like…come on. I knew it was a crap show the whole time I was watching it, but like…fucking hell.
In aid of anyone who like…doesn’t want to write bad stories, here are many of the things lioness did wrong. Please look away if you liked this show I’m not here to spoil anyone’s fun. Full spoilers below the cut.
- almost every single plot strand outside the main secret agent infiltration narrative was totally random and completely external, rather than grown from character or existing story. Not enough CIA shooting in this ep? Oh, your team has been borrowed for an illegal mission on US soil. Natural family angst not at a high enough level? Ah, daughter’s in a deadly car accident with people we’ve never seen or heard of and won’t again. Oh, and she’s randomly pregnant at 14! Cool cool cool. But it’s ok cuz god gives her an abortion
- the plot REGULARLY made no sense and the characters couldn't employ logic if it slapped them in the face. Like, someone explain to me why AFTER you have already run an insertion op to start the embedding process for your asset - thus meaning that the mark could contact her at ANY POINT - you decide THAT is the moment when you should fake abduct her, beat her up enormously, including on her face. Like, if it had been a ploy to get Aaliyah's sympathy that would have been one thing, but they 100% hadn't thought it through at all. These are supposed to be crack agents???
- they had a central moral quandary but they didn’t understand what it was or what they were trying to say. Was it about how money is all that counts and rich people are gonna rich no matter who you kill (eg all the weird dialogue with Nicole Kidman's husband)? Was it that fighting terrorism with terrorism is ineffective and pointless and cruel (literally one single conversation between Joe and Cruz at the end)? Is it that trying to have it all as a woman is not possible when you’re a super secret agent (I think this one was unintentional consequence of super clichéd writing tbh)? Was it that any problem can be solved with enough shooty fighty (prob the most evidence for this one)? The show certainly doesn't know, so how could I?
- the show was BAD at writing queer women. Like, ok, it was hot, and aaliyah and cruz had interesting potential. But there were these moments that rang SO false. Like...after Cruz runs from the hotel room after sleeping with Aaliyah, Joe heads off to meet her. She grabs Bobby and says, let's go. I literally was like, oh, finally, Bobby will talk some lesbian sense into Cruz. But Bobby was just like...there to drive the main character to the hotel?? You have a canonically queer woman and another going through extreme queer angst and you just...don't put them in the same room?
- the politics. Like, Ok. I know it's paramount plus. I know it's the same guy who did Yellowstone. I know it's US propaganda, and copaganda, and like every ganda that's known to humankind. I know it's not overtly antiabortion but also kind of is, I know it has a THING about the way it writes woman (like..did Joe really seem the type to have kids to anyone?? Are women EVER allowed to be strong and badass without a rape backstory AND an abuse backstory?). It's all terrible. But fine, whatever I sort of signed up for it. I knew from the first five minutes that this was going to be America Rah Rah Shootytime, and tbh I knew from the posters. But the thing that really pissed me off in the end? The like absolutely random and unnecessary barbs at climate change. There were just a few moments but it basically made out like the politicians wanted to keep this 'terrorist' alive because he was artificially inflating the price of oil and they're trying to 'wean the country off fossil fuels'. Like, REALLY? We don't have enough conspiracy theories? Fucksake.
And finally - the ending. After all the moral questioning about whether she can kill Aaliyah's father or not, Cruz's hand is forced and she ends up having to kill or be killed, which is an utter cop out. She also does not go back for Aaliyah. I'm sorry. That is some bullshit. I just don't buy it. I mean the whole plan was super dumb - literally, it really made zero sense - but was Cruz really happy to put Aaliyah in jeopardy that way? She is the one who brought this killer into the house - does Cruz really think she is safe? And given everything Aaliyah was saying about how little she wanted that life, wouldn't Cruz have offered her the chance to run with her? I dunno. Obviously not all lesbian stories have to be happy. But that one was just DUMB.
Ok, thus ends my rant on the narrative shortcomings of a terrible show that I watched because...lesbians. Anyway. I hope you either enjoyed the show, or enjoyed the rant!
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indigomood · 2 months ago
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Special Ops: Lioness (2023 —)
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mrchiipchrome · 8 months ago
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Talkin' 'Bout My Girl
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W.C. - 6.3 k
Warnings: throwing up ig?
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Lucy’s calling, answer me, Lucy’s answer me. 
Your phone blasts the annoying ringtone Lucy had created the latest time you’d met her, she’d insisted on having a unique one so that you’d answer all her calls. Spoiler alert: you didn’t answer all her calls.
Groaning loudly as your sleep is interrupted by the older woman calling you, she obviously didn’t think about the fact that you were in a totally different time zone and therefore calling you at 7 in the morning wasn’t a good idea.
“Fucking hell Luce, why’re you calling me at 7 in the fucking morning?” You can hear the way she laughs at your grumpy tone and how she sucks in a breath after a second or two. Well at least one of you was enjoying yourselves.
“Ou, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, did the grumpy wittle baby not get her 8 hours of sleep tonight?” She teases through the phone, the rustling of your sheets as you sit up echoing through the room that’s practically empty, like a hollowed out coconut.
“Actually, since you woke me up at 7, I did in fact barely even get 4 hours since Em dragged me away to a party in Connecticut, got wasted and then made me drive us both home.” This just makes the older woman laugh even more. For some reason, you thought that she’d be a bit more responsible and tell you off for going to a party, but she didn’t.
“Well that’s good then, Em is finally making you go through college the correct way, by going to parties.” You groan loudly as you stretch out the tightness in your limbs, the headache that appears soon goes away just as quickly. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you stand up from the bed, dragging your hand over your face before slapping yourself a few times to really wake up.
“Yeah, the proper college experience or something like that.” Lucy hums at your statement, her usually thoughtless brain quickly reforming to its usual state. 
“Mhm, well I’ll call tonight then, don’t sleep too late.” You say goodbye to the defender quickly before she hangs up the phone, venturing into the kitchen to pull open the door of the fridge, substituting a warm cup of bitter coffee for an energy drink.
“You’re going to be my best friend the coming four years, aren't you?” You look at the ice cold can in your hand as you speak, smiling sarcastically as you pop the tab open and take a swig, the weird aftertaste of pure caffeine leaving a streak down your tongue.
“Fucking hell, why do I not have anything at home?” As you look into the empty pantry, you suddenly understand why you should’ve taken Em’s advice earlier in the week, ‘fill your kitchen up like you have a whole family to feed’. Apparently a whole family equaled a drunk Em.
Peeking into the living room, you immediately see Em fast asleep on the couch, half her body hanging off the small piece of furniture like she was some drunk dad in a movie. Her mouth is wide open and the snores escaping from between her lips are just brutal.
Her party clothes from the night before are still donning her body, the dress barely staying intact after a night of tossing and turning to find a comfortable fit on the uncomfortable couch. But at least she’s not throwing up in the bathroom, so that's a plus.
You sigh, the quiet patting of your bare feet hitting the floor reaching your ears, fingers wrapping around the discarded blanket laying on the floor beside her on the floor and pulling it up to cover her body. She shifts underneath it, mumbling incoherently at you.
“Thanks mom.” You giggle at her sleepy presumption and she grumbles before turning her back to you like a moody teenager.
“Not your mum Em, but no problem anyway.” Walking back to the kitchen, you quickly find your phone before going to look for your wallet in your room, the sleek black leather laying on the floor beneath your mattress.
“Okay, just got to swing by the kitchen again then I’m off.” You mumble to yourself, patting your sleep shorts to see that you had everything you needed with you. The old Arsenal shorts from your time in the academy and the brief time you’d spent in the first team were the first things you’d packed for your move to America.
The comfort of home you supposed.
The simple t-shirt you had on was a Harvard one you’d gotten practically the first day on campus, the small ‘sports’ being printed just beneath the massive lettering of Harvard across your chest. It’s still warm enough outside to not need a jacket, you think to yourself, the sun shining brightly in the sky.
Picking up your can when you pass by the kitchen, you quickly make your way towards the door, finding the keys to your car hanging on the small hook meant for jackets. The metal ring you put them on clinks as you pull your keys off the hook, pulling your shoes over your bare feet before you turn the lock with a satisfying click, unlocking the door before disappearing out of it. Your key turns in the lock as you close the door, effectively securing Em inside the apartment.
The nice old lady living in the flat beside your own walks out of her door at the same time you do yours, her kind smile immediately filling you with a comforting warmth, her grandmotherly energy enveloping you fully, almost transforming you back into that little kid who would sit and wait for your gran to read a bedtime story.
“Hello dear, what are you doing up so early?” Her southern accent makes her words almost unintelligible, but you understand them either way, nothing was worse than drunk Em trying to speak. The large Newfoundland dog wagging his tail beside her yaps excitedly as he notices you, his entire body wiggling.
 “Oh I’m off to the bakery to get some pastries, Em got really drunk at a party yesterday and I don’t have anything for breakfast, so bread and pastries it is.” She looks amusedly at you, despite only having been neighbours for about two or so weeks, it was like the older woman had seen both you and Em grow up the entirety of your lives.
“Yeah that does sound like Em, don’it.” You laugh along with her, walking closer to pet Bubba who jumped at you as soon as you were close enough for him. “Bubba, no, you know we don’t jump on people.”
Laughing at the gentle giant, your hands soon tangle in his soft fur, giving him a bunch of kisses. 
“Oh Mrs. Peters, you know it’s his fault that he gets so excited, he’s just a little baby.” She rolls her eyes fondly at you and her dog, a simple tug of his leash making the fluffy dog go back to his owner. Moving towards the stairs you quickly turn back to ask her;
“Mrs. Peters, do you want anything from the bakery?”  She smiles but shakes her head, signaling that she doesn't want anything, before she enters the elevator and disappears from your line of sight.
You hum the tune to the song playing in your headphones as you walk down the stairs quickly, arms nearly tied to your body as you make your way down to the bottom floor of the building. The last step is one you jump over, walking over to the door that opens almost automatically and exiting the building completely.
The rays of the brightly shining sun hit your face as soon as you step out into the warm weather, Frank Ocean’s soft voice floating through your headphones as you walk, the wind blowing onto your exposed arms. 
It wasn’t often that people would just walk through the neighbourhood just to appreciate the scenery, to appreciate the nature and the small things that often seemed unimportant when living in such a fast tracked life as you did.
But you couldn’t just ignore the beauty in the simple things, the beauty in the small flowers growing along the road, the beauty in the gravel crunching under your feet as you walked, the warmth of the sun against your skin and the cooling effect of the wind.
It was all so beautiful, the calm and simple beauty.
You could find beauty in everything you saw, if you knew where to look for it, the soft smile on the mother’s face as she watched her toddler climb on the structure, the bird chirping as you pass it by, the old man sitting on a park bench. 
The world wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, they just hadn’t looked at it the right way.
The chime of the bell hanging above the door takes you back to only hours before, when you’d been at the diner with the divine girl, Nika. God, she was the embodiment of beauty, Aphrodite reborn as a human. 
The local bakery is well known among students, professors and newcomers alike, everyone knows about the bakery with the best pastries in the whole of Boston. Knowing that, it’s not even close to surprising when the line to the register reaches across the room, looking up at the menu of sorts to see what you want to pass the time.
There’s music flowing out the speakers, covering the low sound of people speaking to each other with its instrumental cling. You didn’t mind it though, it made everything just feel more real in a sense, there was no telling why, you don’t even get a chance at trying to figure it out as your phone starts ringing again, though this time it wasn’t Lucy’s voice ringing out, instead it was the infamous song of Arsenal, The Angel aka North London forever.
“Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure of a call? Did Spurs win?” You were both Arsenal through and through, but you always liked to tease her about her being a Spurs fan, the arch rivals of Arsenal being one of the things the older woman hated the most.
“Thank god, they didn’t win. No, I’m just calling to check up on you, ask how you’re settling in and all that.” She tries to be nonchalant in her tone, but  having known the blonde for as long as you had, you knew that there was something more to it. Thankfully, the line’s length has barely changed since the second you walked in, so there’s plenty of time to figure out what she’s playing at.
“Leah, what do you really want? I know you as well as you know yourself.” When you hear her sigh you pump your fist in the air triumphantly, getting more than a few judgy looks and glances from the people around you.
“Well, Jordy and I are having a bit of an argument right, and as our unofficial kid we need you to settle this.” You nod before you realize that she can’t see you, quickly replying verbally.
“What’s the arguing about?” She almost cuts you off with the speed at which she responds at, the smallest giggle to her tone giving you the impression that the matter at hand wasn’t as serious as she’d first made it out to be.
“Who do you think Blu loves the most?” Giving it a second before you answer to give the illusion that you actually thought about it, you can almost imagine the smile on her face, thinking that you’re going to back her.
“Neither of you, Blu loves me the most.” Leah lets out an offended gasp at your statement, and you can hear Jordan’s laugh in the back for a second before a playful slap can be heard. On your side of the line, only a giggle can be heard with the simple murmuring of day to day life in the background.
“That’s only because you give him so many treats.” The blonde groans at you, but you just smile smugly in return, not that she could see.
“It sucks to suck doesn’t it, Lee.” The line of people in front of you gets smaller and smaller with every passing minute as people order, with there only being around five or so people in front of you now.
“Well I wouldn’t know much about sucking, right Jord?” When you finally catch on to what she’s insinuating, you gag, not even caring that there are tens of people around you who can hear.
“Ew, I don’t need to know about what you two get up to in your spare time.” The sentence is whispered, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. “Listen, I’ve got to go, I’m about to order some pastries for me and Em so I’ll call you back later.” 
By now you’re nearly at the front of the line, about to get what you came for. But they didn’t seem to want to end the call, nor the teasing they were putting you through.
“Ooh, does your girlfriend want a sweet breakfast?” If the two could see you they’d guaranteed to be laughing their heads off, the look of pure disgust on your face simply hilarious.
“Em’s not my girlfriend, even the thought of that is just like ew.” You shudder when you think about it, the girl had quickly become one of your closest friends and to even entertain the idea of being with her romantically was just gross.
“So you’re just buying her breakfast platonically?” Rolling your eyes at the conversation, you quickly plaster a smile on your face as you reach the counter. 
“Hi, I’d like four croissants and a caramel coffee.” The cashier’s name tag reads ‘Amelie’, the girl looking at you confused as if she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. The women on the other side of the phone snicker and if you weren’t raised the way you were, you would’ve hung up by now.
“A caramel coffee? You mean a caramel macchiato?” She questions dryly, like she really doesn’t enjoy her work.
“Yeah let’s go with that.” You pull out your wallet from your pocket, fishing the card out whilst trying your very hardest to not drop the phone sitting in the space between your head and your shoulder. 
“That’ll be 14 dollars.” Blipping your card against the side of the maschine, the transaction goes through without a problem thankfully. You smile at the girl again as she tells you that your order will be ready soon, and as you walk over to sit down at a table you can hear the kissy noises they’re making.
“Did you two just collectively decide not to hear me say ‘me and Em’, the idiot got wasted last night and I don’t have anything at home, courtesy of that drunk idiot. So me being the great friend that I am, decided that it was better to get breakfast than having to deal with a hangry and hungover Em.” You can hear the way they let out sounds of realization, understanding what you mean.
“Hey, why didn’t you bring us treats when we were hungover?” Leah asks, apparently offended that you hadn’t done this for them.
“Well, you two never took me out to parties so I never knew when you were hungover.” Despite them not being able to see it, you shrug absentmindedly, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t get to go with them.
“Fair enough.” 
“Listen, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got to carry everything home and I only have two hands, so.” The two say goodbye before hanging up, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you walk up to the counter, taking the paper bag with you as you walk out into the warm weather again. 
The walk back home is just as peaceful as the walk to the bakery, maybe the usual Boston had decided to take a break for just a day. Well whatever it was, you were thankful for it, your sleep deprived mind couldn’t handle much more than it already had.
When the lock clicks and you open the door, you’re met with the sound of groaning coming from the kitchen. Taking off your shoes at the entrance, you hang your keys back on the designated hook before you move towards the kitchen.
Peeking around the corner and into the kitchen, you quickly find the source of the noise. Because Em was standing in the middle of the room, banging her head against the counter clearly in quite a bit of pain. 
Why she was hitting her head against the counter then, you didn’t know, it’s completely irrational. But if that’s what she wanted to do then you’d let her, it wasn’t really any of your business.
“Em? What are you doing?” She looks up at you when she hears your voice, her gaze murderous, her hands in her hair, massaging her head like it was the last thing she’d ever do.
“Oh, grumpy you’re finally home, where have you been and why did you let me drink so much last night?” She groans out from between clenched teeth, your laugh filling the room pitifully within seconds at her words. It is funny after all, it was Em herself who insisted on drinking last night and her suffering the consequences of her actions was hilarious.
“I was out being an amazing friend and getting us both some breakfast.” You place the bag on top of the counter, almost right in front of Em’s face, but when she makes the motion of grabbing the bag and consuming the contents, you snatch it from the counter.
The older girl whines at your actions, her head coming down against the marble countertops again, the repetitive thumping annoying you more than you’d like to admit.
“Listen, I didn’t spend 14 dollars just for you to throw it back up. Off you go, get ready and for god’s sake please do not throw up in my living room.” Putting your hands on the back of her shoulders, you gently lead her all the way out of the room and into your bathroom, sitting her in front of the toilet before going back to the kitchen. “Oh, I talked to Luce earlier, she wants to thank you for making me ‘experience college the right way’.”  
Emma lets out a groan that sounds like a hybrid of a hawk getting piped and the death whistle, was getting praised by THE Lucy Bronze really worth the terrible hangover? Only Em could answer that, and she was currently hanging over the seat of your toilet, puking her guts up.
You can hear Em flushing and then moving to the sink, turning the tap on and taking some into her mouth, swirling the water around. Her bare feet slap disturbingly against the wooden floor as she makes her way towards the kitchen, your back turned towards her as she comes up behind you, her arm slinging around your shoulders.
“Wait, Luce? Luce as in Lucy Bronze? Lucy Bronze, the three time Champions League winner?” You shrug at her, turning back around to face the rest of the kitchen with Em hot on your heels.
“Yeah, I mean knowing her is not impressive.” Em’s wide eyes suggest a different story, her hands coming up to lay on your shoulders as she shakes your body back and forth.
“Wait, you know THE Lucy Bronze?” Taking her hands off your shoulders, you push the coffee cup into her free hand and a croissant into her other one. She nods thankfully before she hops up and sits on the counter, the small bag being placed between your bodies as you sit beside her on the counter.
“Did I forget to tell you that? And also why would she call me if we didn’t know each other?” Your eyebrows knit together, thinking back to all the conversations you and Em had over the past two and a half weeks.
“UH yeah, how do you know the best defender in the world?” The brunette girl slaps your shoulder playfully, studying your side profile out the corner of her eye. You look back at her in the exact same way, a small almost unknown smile on your face.
“Our mums knew each other, I’ve known Lucy since I was in diapers. And besides, I wasn’t the only one out here hiding family.” Raising your eyebrows accusingly, the girl beside you gives you a look of perplexion, not understanding what you mean by the statement.
“What do you mean?” She asks, her feet swinging off the edge, nearly smacking against your cabinet doors every time.
“I mean your scary older brother that you never told me about.” You say matter of factly, pointing at her with a ‘you know who I’m talking about’ look. The ‘ahhh’ sound that escapes her lips when she realizes who you’re talking about sounds out through the kitchen, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
“Oh, Cal? Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from flushed away. Oh and that reminds  me, you have to come with me to this dinner he invited me to next week. No way I’m third wheeling all night long with him and his latest girlfriend.” The snort you let out is involuntary, the American girl’s description of her brother very vivid, and hopefully correct. It wasn’t like you’d seen her brother ever before, so you didn’t actually know what he looked like.
“Yeah sure I’ll help you feel less single, but no hand holding and no pretending to be together.” You look at her pointedly, making your point totally clear, no fake dating, that never turned out right. Em nods her head as she shrugs, as if to tell you ‘fair enough’.
“No way that I’d go out with you anyways, you’re far too grumpy for my liking. Maybe you can set me up with one of your mates in England.” Her hand covers her mouth so that she doesn’t laugh at your horrified expression, clearly you’re disturbed at the mere thought of Boston Tea Party part two happening if they ever broke up. 
“One Boston tea party is enough mate, we don’t need another.” The sip of coffee that Em had just taken covers  basically the entirety of your kitchen in a single second, the girl beside you spitting it out in surprise. “Em, come on. I’m not cleaning that up just so you know.”
Jumping down from the counter, you nearly slip on Em’s newly spit out coffee, only escaping the sticky mess by a millimeter. Her laughter clings out through the apartment, and Em makes sure to let you know that she’s sorry by telling you through her bouts of laughter.
“Look under the sink, you’ll find what you need under there.” The sound of the cabinet door opening can be heard from where you’re standing in the middle of the living room, picking up all the various things littered around the space. 
“Girl, why do you have everything under here except paper towels?” The brunette calls out for you, and you shake your head in amusement at her, there was no way that Em hadn’t thought about looking in any other cabinet than the one she had her head stuck in at the moment.
“Look in the compartment above, see if you’ll find them there.” You get the confirmation that she’s found it when she lets out a short ‘aha’, you can almost imagine the way her head hits the corner of the sink when she gets up, the loud ‘fuck that hurt’ being very telling.
“You okay?” Looking around the wall in the direction of the kitchen, you see Em sticking her hand out, the thumb sticking up telling you that she was fine.
It didn’t take as long as either of you had thought to clean the kitchen up, only a few minutes and even less to clean the mess in the living room. Soon enough, the television was turned on and the two of you were sitting in silence watching the looney tunes.
“Do you think the duck piped the rabbit or is it the other way ‘round?” Em questions, her tone completely serious, as if she wasn’t asking the craziest question ever.
“Uh I don’t think Bugs Bunny piped Daffy Duck.” Looking at her incredulously, she only responds with a shrug, her theory about the two cartoon animals being shot down almost immediately.
“Well they do have sexual tension that’s for sure.” She states matter of factly, pointing at you like you would agree. Spoiler alert: you didn’t agree at all.
“Mate what goes even on in your head?” You ask her, looking at her as if she belonged in a mental institution. Em scratches her head nonchalantly, stretching out her legs and placing her feet in your lap. “Do you not have anywhere to be?”
“Like where?” She asks, her words coming out mumbled as she’s biting her nails, chewing on the bits before she spits them out. When she looks at you she sees the judgemental look on your face, stopping what she’s doing with no real sense of urgency.
“I don’t know, maybe at home? Do you not have like a hundred plants that need to be watered?” She springs up from the couch, running to the entrance where she puts her shoes on before she shouts out a quick ‘bye’ and runs out the house.
“What is she on?” You laugh through the sentence, the pure hilarity and absurdity of most situations involving your newest best friend making you laugh more often than not.
With Em being in and out of your apartment practically every day, the week leading up to the dinner with her brother and his ‘newest’ girlfriend passes by extremely fast, feeling more like a day than a week.
“Em, what am I supposed to wear? Is it like a fancy restaurant or more chill?” You shout from your room, Em changing into her clothes in the living room. The clothing hangers click against each other as you look through the clothes you’d managed to put up over the past few weeks, many different button ups and a few normal t-shirts.
“You’re asking me this 10 minutes before we go?!” She shouts back, surprised that you’re not already finished dressing yourself and getting ready, seeing as you were the first one out the house normally.
“Yeah, I just realized that I never asked you what to wear.” You shrug to no one in particular, seeing as you were the only one present in your room.
“Didn’t your parents take you to a bunch of dinners with their clients?” Em’s voice carries through the walls, especially with the woman coming closer and closer to your door.
“I’ve been to a fair few, but in my defense I’ve always had stylists helping me so putting together outfits isn’t really one of my strong points.” Pulling out a few items of clothing, you hold them up so that they’re almost exclusively in your line of sight, looking to see if they’d match. 
“Fair enough, it’s not too fancy, just wear that linen shirt and some of your fancy pants.” She peeks her head into the room, looking at where you’re standing in your jeans, seemingly debating whether to wear the simple white button down or a Harvard t-shirt. 
“Trousers?” You raise your eyebrow cheekily at the brunette, a small teasing smile on your face.
“Yeah yeah, you know what I mean.” Emma rolls her eyes at you whilst you place the two articles of clothing back into your closet, the hangers clicking easily against the pole they’re hooked on.
“I do, I just like to annoy you.” Hearing the door click closed, you pull the linen shirt off its hangar and pull it over your head before you unbutton your jeans and pull the ‘fancy pants’ over your legs. Buttoning up the various buttons on the slacks, you quickly tuck your shirt in before opening the door and tapping Em on her head as you pass her.
“Shut up man.” You look back at Em when you reach the entrance, picking out your fanciest pairs of shoes to show her.
“Those look good?” She studies them for a second or two before nodding diligently, pulling on a pair of relatively fancy shoes too.
“They’re better than your beat up sneakers at least.” She shrugs at your offended look, almost telling you that it’s only fair since they are beat up.
“They still have at least two, three years left in them alright. There’s no need for new ones if they work just fine.” For the second time that day, you take your keys off the hook in the hall, letting Em walk out the open door before you so that you can lock everything up.
“Are we finally taking your car?” She asks, seeing the little metal key on your keychain with hers nowhere in sight. Normally you were insistent on taking hers as your baby was almost priceless, a reminder of home that you’d come to love over the past week, seeing as you’d gotten it shortly after signing your first professional contract.
“Yeah, I need to impress your brother, right?” Smirking cheekily over your shoulder, you see Em smiling widely at you as the lock on the door clicks closed, waiting for you to follow her into the elevator.
“Can I-” She starts off, the cool air in the lift making the hair on your arms raise, the skin becoming all prickly like that of a goose.
“No.” You can see the way Em pouts almost like a petulant child through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at you.
“You don’t even know what I was about to ask you.” Raising a single eyebrow at her, you look down at her through the corner of your eye, like you did more often than you were willing to admit.
“No, but I do know you and that’s enough, no one other than me will ever drive my car.” The late afternoon sun glows bright orange like hot coals as the two of you step out into the humid air, the garage not too far away from the building’s entrance. Picking out the right key, you quickly unlock the door before pulling it up, revealing the gorgeous red ‘67 Mustang that Em always wanted you to drive.
The girl in question wolf whistles when she sees the car, a hand coming up to shelter her eyes from the sun beaming into them, moving towards you with slow steps. Walking into the garage, you motion for the other girl to open the door on the passenger side as you plop down into the driver’s seat. 
You don’t have to feel around for very long to find the ignition, as you push the clinking keys in, smiling satisfied as the motor revs up loudly. Applying a small amount of pressure to the gaspedal, it’s not long until you’ve navigated your way out of the garage successfully and pulled onto the main road.
Pulling the seat belt over your body as soon as you’ve made it out to the main road, you waste no time in pulling your sunglasses out of their compartment and putting them over your eyes so as to not get completely blinded by the sun.
“Okay, give me the rundown of your brother, likes and dislikes, hobbies, aspirations, all the basic knowledge apart from him looking like the rat from flushed away.” Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, you peek down at the phone that’s currently giving you directions for the restaurant, the beautiful nature almost mesmerizing.
“His full name is Callum Adam Whitmore, he’s 23 years old and he plays basketball for UConn. He likes sports, hitting on anything that has a pulse, pretending he knows how to play the guitar and pretentiously explaining movies. He dislikes losing, being told no by our parents and me on a few occasions. Hobbies are partying and gaming, aspires to go to the NBA. That’s all.” Em lists, giving you all the information you need to adequately make the assumption that Callum Adam Whitmore is kind of an arse.
“Well he sounds…nice?” There’s no denying how questionable you sound, clearly not believing the words coming out of your own mouth. Em looks at you over the tops of her own glasses, giving you a skeptical look.
“No he doesn’t, he’s an ass and to use the correct terminology, a fuckboy.” Em pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose, turning the knobs on the inbuilt stereo for it to start playing music, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations flowing softly out the speakers.
“Sing with me grumpy! I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me, I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees.” She sings loudly, her hands gesturing for you to join her in singing as you shake your head, a small smile on your face at her antics. “Come on, sing it man! I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?”
Finally relenting at the last second possible, you join the older girl in song happily.
“My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” Tapping along to the beat just as the last note of the song rings out, you pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, effectively ending the little karaoke session you were participating in.
“Holy shit man, that went so fast.” Em pats your shoulder as you pull into a parking space at the corner of the big parking lot, taking the keys out of the ignition before you fold your sunglasses and place them back into their compartment.
“Perks of having a really fast car.” Waiting from the brunette to step out of the car, you don’t waste a second in locking up the extremely expensive piece of machinery. You take a second to fix your hair in the rear view mirror, even though you don’t really know why, there wasn’t really anyone in that restaurant to impress now that you knew that Em’s brother was a total ass, but your instinct told you to. 
“Can you hurry up?” The girl in question asks from her place in front of the restaurant door and you send her a sarcastic smile in response, half running half walking up to her.
She doesn’t say anything as she pushes the door open, in fact she doesn’t say anything until you two reach the hostess stand where she tells the worker the name of the reservation.
As the worker leads the two of you over to the table there’s a million different thoughts running through your head, why were you nervous? Why did it feel like your stomach was about to explode? Why were there so many tables in the restaurant?
You only really tune back into the real world around you when Em pinches your side, her head turned towards a table with a man sitting alone, presumably her brother. The man stands up and walks around the table to reach your side, bringing your friend into a familial embrace, before he turns to you and sticks his hand out.
There’s no avoiding the sense of deja vu you get from the action, remembering the girl from the party almost a week ago who’d done the exact same thing, but then again it was the most common form of introducing yourself.
“Cal Whitmore.” His voice is on the deeper side, not Darth Vader deep but definitely on the deeper side of the spectrum. His calloused hand grips onto yours in a confident handshake, fingers gripping onto yours harder than needed, which fits the cocky description Em had put forth.
“Y/n Y/l/n.” You smile staley at him, the man moving back to his side of the table as you pull out the chair for the girl beside you, only sitting down when she’s settled.
“So, where’s your darling date Cal?” Em asks her older brother teasingly, looking around the restaurant like she’d appear just out of anywhere.
“Calm yourself Em, she went to wash her hands.” He leans back in his chair cockily, his eyes glued to the backside of one of the waitresses passing by like some horny teenage boy.
“You know what, he does kind of look like the rat from Flushed Away.” You lean in closer to Em as you whisper, studying the man’s face carefully and noticing increasing similarities between the stopmotion rat and the tall man.
“Em, what the fuck, have you been telling people that I look like the rat from Flushed Away again? I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.” He looks at the girl beside you in disappointment, his thin lips turning down quickly. Well that was until a sweet voice cut in, a soft hand with fingers adorned with rings placed on his shoulder, moving down to his chest softly.
“What has she done now?” That accented voice was familiar, and as your eyes trail up from the stranger's hand to her chest and then lastly to her face you soon realize why it was so damn familiar. The careful upwards tug of her lips to the slight curls of her hair and the furrow in her brow, there was no denying that the girl standing before you was someone you recognized.
Fucking hell, you’d just taken your best friend’s brother’s girlfriend out on a date a mere week before meeting him officially. You were officially fucked.
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lgbtpopcult · 25 days ago
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BEST WLW SERIES OF 2024 Part 3
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Pretty Little Liars Original Sin
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The Decameron
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Vigil
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Ayaka Is in Love with Hiroko!
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Mhom Ped Sawan
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Jurassic World: Chaos Theory
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Unlock Your Love
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STATION 19
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Ted
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My Marvelous Dream is You
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Anatomy Of Lies
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Bodkin
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Special Ops lioness
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motherofmabari · 1 year ago
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Kel: ...and I've been getting expensive presents from this mysterious benefactor ever since my first year as a page. 🫤 It's baffling, I mean, who could it possibly be? 🤷🏼
Raoul: Right, absolutely baffling. Excuse me for a sec
*sounds of running feet and a door slamming open*
Raoul: ALANNA WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME I WOULD HAVE HELPED 😭
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comic-book-jawns · 1 year ago
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✨ the duality of lesbian ✨
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mysweetsinfulobsessions · 1 year ago
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Cruz & Aaliyah, Special Ops: Lioness, S01e07, Part 4/4
Part 1/4, Part 2/4, Part 3/4
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kneelb4kesha · 2 years ago
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duke roger of conte is such a funny character, honestly. imagine being such an objectionable cunt that an entire pantheon of gods goes "absolutely not" and sets alanna loose on him. baby girl just wanted to be a knight and go on adventures and the gods keep giving her new special toys with which she is specifically destined to kick this one guy's ass. honestly the main reason thom was able to resurrect roger was that the black god went "um. no thanks" when he died the first time. no wonder he came back an atheist lmao
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hopeless-romantic17177 · 1 year ago
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There are some good cruz x aaliyah fanfics on ao3 if anyone is interested. Here are some of my favorites
And here is a longer one that I have not read yet but plan to read
Also an important note, absolutely none of those stories are mine. Those writers are very talented and I just wanted to share their work with others that might want to see.
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the-royal-blue-network · 2 months ago
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brighter-by-the-daly · 9 months ago
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Millie Bright x Reader
Triggered (Rewrite)
AN: I’ve wanted to rewrite this for sometime since reading it back and it felt so cringey. As it’s about a neurodivergent reader I felt like it could and should be better. It’s mostly Part 1 that’s changed the most but I felt like it should have it’s own post rather than editing the old 3 parter, so I hope you enjoy. It’s been a nice way to ease myself back into writing too.
A ping rang from your pocket up to your ears letting you know you had a new message, hearing the sound your heart started beating faster. You had desperately been waiting for updates from your friend who had won the chance to be at Chelsea women’s open training session and was hoping he’d get something signed from Millie Bright for you. Millie is your favourite footballer but she has been out with a knee injury for months - hardly spotted at games or training as if she’s gone into hiding, but opening the photo from your friend filled your heart with joy seeing the blonde huddled with her friends. She wasn’t in her training kit but seeing her there kept your hopes alive that you’d have something signed in your hands by tomorrow. Your friend had asked you to come with him but you already had tickets for the England game tonight that was at the other side on London which made it impossible to be at both. You had hoped that if she wasn’t at Kingsmeadow she may had turned up to support her England teammates but the photo on the 6 inch screen proved she wasn’t coming. “She seems really rude (y/n/n), why do you like her? She’s not talking to anyone!” the next text came through, shattering your daydreams of finally having her autograph. “I don’t care, I love her! Pleeeease try!” you begged with lots of prayer emojis, keeping your fingers and toes crossed that he’d come up trumps.
“Here, it’s the last one” your best friend Mack broke your concentration from the text exchange as he sat down next to you, placing a hotdog on your plate. His mum was cooking a BBQ for your friend group before you left to go to the stadium which was conveniently around the corner from their house. Perching on the doorstep with him and watching the fans trickle towards the stadium you munched happily on the mounds of food piled up on your plate. Mack’s mum always goes above and beyond when it comes to gatherings, you had been eating BBQ food for hours yet your plate never seemed to be empty. She was the type of person who always left her front door open, her house was always filled to the brim with school friends, then uni friends and work friends. New Years Eve parties every year, Miss Gloria really knew how to throw a banging party! You and Mack threw some memories around while watching his mum pile more sausages onto your other friend’s plates, chuckling as you remembered her flinging you across the lounge to dance with her after she saw you sitting alone when you were younger.
The click of the front gate in the near distance drew your attention to the garden path where a very familiar blonde was approaching the house. Watching in awe as she approached Mack’s mum over the BBQ you rubbed your eyes to see if you were hallucinating. “Millie!” she loudly exclaimed, “I thought you weren’t coming anymore!”, looking to Mack beside you for reassurance that you weren’t going mad who had already upped and left, running over to see her. ‘What, the..?’ muttering to yourself in disbelief you heard them all chattering in the distance but didn’t notice her approaching you a little while later. You were spaced out staring into the distance trying to muster up the courage to talk to her when suddenly she was in front of you. “I’m assuming you’re (y/n)?” she snapped, breaking you out of your spiralled thinking. “Uhh.. yeah?” you replied, not knowing what to think of her standoffish behaviour, she always seemed so upbeat and happy that you just didn’t imagine her being as rude as your friend said earlier. Mack came running over saying his mum was out of food, glancing at the mound on your plate you offered it over. “I-I’m definitely not going t-to eat all of this” you stammered, still in awe that your idol was in front of you but confused with the interaction as you passed your plate over. She took it with not even a thanks and sat down beside you on the door step, beginning to eat like she hadn’t had food for months. “Ketchup?” offering the bottle that was next to you to try break the awkward silence that only amplified her chomping sounds. You felt the mood lift a little when she squeezed the bottle too hard it splashed over her plate in a massive gloop, waiting for her to chuckle at herself so you felt able to too. Squirming in her seat trying not to get it on her clothes, her knee grazed yours, “hey, hows the injury?” you asked trying your hardest to make small talk, “I’m not allowed to say” she responded bluntly, plunging the interaction into dead silence again. Rolling your eyes you let out a desperate sigh, disappointed with how the day went from hopefully getting her autograph to being totally disappointed with actually meeting her.
Glancing at your watch you called out to your friends that you should probably be leaving for the stadium soon, you were met with agreement from all of them as you gathered up the plates to wash up. When you collected Millie’s she asked why you had to leave so soon because kick off wasn’t for another hour. “I just like to know I’m on time” you replied, taking her plate to the kitchen as she followed asking more questions. “The stadium is only around the corner, you don’t need to leave that early” her statement sharp and slightly condescending. Your friends knew your autistic and adhd traits came out the most when you had a timed thing to do – like football. You liked to be there early so you could find your seats without the overwhelming amount of people staring at you arriving. You found comfort knowing you wouldn’t have to tell people they were in your seats and that you could relax knowing you were in the right place. You’d never been to this stadium before and new places trigger your anxiety. You couldn’t tell Millie that though, with the mood she’s in she probably wouldn’t listen anyway. “I just get anxious” you told her honestly, “well don’t worry about it, it’s just football” her tone now throughroughly irritating you. “Wow thanks, I’m cured” rolling your eyes at her ignorance you washed the last plate, expecting her to pick up a tea towel but she didn’t; truly cementing your feelings about the woman – rude and obnoxious! Maybe your friend was right!
45 minutes passed before you actually left leaving 15 minutes to get in and find your seats, you were now an anxious mess and on the brink of a meltdown. Millie lead your friends down an ally to a gate you hadn’t seen when you studied the stadium map online yesterday, falling behind as you rushed to find the tickets on your phone and missing the email containing them. “I can’t find the tickets” you said in quiet panic but realising no-one heard you made you become even more flustered, “guys, slow down! I can’t find the tickets!” you pleaded with everyone to help. Millie turned around and looked at you in a way that you could tell she was annoyed, “you’re with me you don’t need tickets, put your phone away!” she shouted but didn’t stop walking. Looking at Mack in desperation he shrugged but didn’t say anything. You’d never felt more like an outcast to your friends, they all knew your triggers and signs you were getting overwhelmed but it seems Millie’s presence made everyone forget them. You were so looking forward to this game but now you just wanted to leave and go home, everything was going wrong and it was nothing like you had planned for weeks. Millie handed over her pass to the steward as Mack watched you still frantically trying to find the tickets you bought a month earlier, clicking the lock button he gestured for you to put your phone away with no explanation. “5 yeah? All good” the steward said in a bored and tired tone. You didn’t have a clue what was happening but Mack linked his arm in yours and shuffled you inside to seats that weren’t the ones you had carefully chosen when booking them. To be fair, they were really good seats just above the dugouts but you couldn’t help feeling on edge knowing these weren’t your booked ones and panicked someone was going to tell you to move at any moment. Millie sat down next to you with her huge England puffer jacket encroaching on your personal space, hearing every squeak of the fabric against the chair and rustling against your body, you had never felt more uncomfortable.
Noticing you were stimming – tapping your foot making your leg shake and fiddling with your thumb ring, Millie placed a hand heavily onto your thigh making your leg stop shaking instantly. This meant that your anxious energy couldn’t be released and was getting blocked up inside you. “What’s wrong?” she asked sounding genuinely concerned, moving her hood so you could see her face. “Nothing” shaking your head violently trying to stop her from asking anymore questions. You were trying so hard not to have a meltdown and anymore questions might push the tears you were trying desperately to hide out of your eyes, you really didn’t want her to witness this. You’d looked up to the defender since you were younger and you thought meeting her would be a dream but today has been nothing short of a nightmare. She’d hit all your triggers without even realising you had any and you were really struggling to hide your contempt. “Just tell me” she said forcefully. Staring out at the pitch you thought deeply about what you wanted to say but it all came blurting out like a car crash of words leaving your mouth. “I’m autistic and have ADHD, I’ve never been to this stadium before so looked up all the maps of how to get here and where our seats were, I like to be early so I know I’m in the right place, you took us a different way and sat me in a different seat, I always sit on the aisle so I don’t feel trapped, the Lionesses are my special interest, I didn’t get to watch the warm ups or feel the atmosphere before the game, I hate being late and your jacket is so noisy it’s making me want to throw something at you!” Your words left your mouth in one extremely long sentence barely making time to breath, your monotone voice wasn’t raised just sad nothing had turned out like you’d planned. You took a breath and let out a long sigh, feeling a slight release of letting it all out and finally able to look at her. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for ages then you turned up and changed everything, it’s been a lot to deal with” you finished calmly and honestly. Millie stared at you blankly like everything you had just said flew straight over her head. You couldn’t help that you felt uncomfortable, your friends knew what triggers you and could have been more understanding to all the plans changing – one change you could have dealt with but this.. this was a lot.
“Do you drink tea?” Millie asked you after a long awkward silence, nodding gently she asked how you have it then rose from her seat, re-emerging moments later with a cup in her hand. “Sit in this one” she gestured to the seat she was in before which was on an aisle then passed the cup to you; instantly feeling a little relief as the warmth spread through your fingertips to your palms. Hearing the loud zipper of her coat she took it off without any hesitation and started to put it around your shoulders. “What are you doing?” trying to shrug it off, wondering about her intentions, “trust me, it’s a like a big safety bubble, put it on” she nodded smiling for the first time today as encouragement. Feeling the warmth around your body and the weight of the coat acting like your heavy blanket at home you sunk into your new seat, your heart rate slowly returned to normal and your eyes were no longer acting like dams for your tears. “I’m really sorry (y/n), I didn’t realise” her words sounded sincere. “Why would you? I have to work very hard to appear like everyone else, to seem normal. Nobody would know unless I told them or I suddenly snapped. They’d just see me flip out over one tiny thing without recognising all of the other things that had lead me to have a meltdown” you said looking down at your cup, embarrassed with how honest and open you were being. “I get it, I really do” she smiled, taking hold of one of your hands and holding it between hers on her lap as the teams walked out onto the pitch immediately making you happy again. It’s like she had heard you, listened and understood exactly what you needed - to feel safe.
Millie held your hand throughout the entire game, stroking her thumb along yours intimitently to keep you grounded and only stopping when England scored or to top up your tea. You’re unsure how she went from standoffish and rude to caring and kind so quickly but you wish more people you told about your neurodivergence acted this way when they find out instead of looking at you weird and ignoring everything you’ve just said - despite the beginning of the day, you had a good night.
Standing up and unzipping the coat to return it to her she abruptly stopped you, pulling it back onto your shoulders. “It’s okay wear it home, it’s gotten cold now” her voice a lot softer than a few hours ago and certainly more bubbly than earlier in the evening. “I can’t do that this is part of your kit” you giggled nervously, still trying to take it off. “Well I can’t let you walk home cold can I” she shrugged joking like her hands were tied. You argued back and forth at who would take the coat until you finally accepted the kind gesture, “I’m a hot bod anyway” was her winning statement which made you smirk, ‘in more ways than one’ you thought to yourself. Millie asked to walk you out but you didn’t need babysitting and suggested she go congratulate her teammates instead. “I wasn’t implying that you need babysitting, I just wanted to make sure you’d get home okay” trying to justify her intentions. “Well I won’t be home for at least two hours so you’d be waiting a long time” you laughed, shuffling past her to try and make your exit. Millie was shocked with how long a journey you had and had assumed you lived near the stadium as you were at Mack’s earlier in the evening. You chatted until your friends were ready to leave and finally asked how she knows your friends, questioning why he has never mentioned knowing the defender before now. Turns out her mum knows his mum from grassroots and she very rarely pops by, the game just happened to have been played near their house and Mack hadn’t seen her since he was a child. “I’m sorry I made tonight tough for you” she said, touching your back for reassurance which you barely felt through the puffiness of the coat. “It’s okay, nothing a tea can’t fix” you’d had a good night in the end, knew why you were triggered and was able to get over it quickly with her help. “No it’s not okay, I should be more aware of how my words and actions affect people” she looked down at the ground with embarrassment. “It’s not your job to accommodate me” you said bluntly still feeling like she was babying you. Before she could reply Mack called out that they were ready to leave and interrupted your conversation. You thanked Millie again for the coat but insisted you wouldn’t need it as you’ll be sat on a train, trying for the last time to return the offering but once again she stopped you. “Can I drive you home?” This girl just doesn’t give up! You had to put your foot down and raised your eyebrow in a ‘I’m so done with you’ way, “okay! You don’t need babysitting, I get it! Keep the coat though please” she smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes over exaggeratedly, your eyes rolled and reluctantly agreed to keep her from continuing to fuss. Holding her arms out to initiate a hug, you hesitated but hugged goodbye quickly when she called you out for leaving her hanging then made your way to the station.
On your second train of the night you were now half way home with an hour to go when your phone pinged.
“Did you get home safe?”
“It’s Millie by the way”
“I asked Mack’s mum to send me your number 🙊”
3 messages came through immediately one after the other.
“Good job you’re a footballer cause you can’t count!” you replied sarcastically “two hour journey I said, not one!” Sending a selfie of yourself, hood up earphones in and very obviously still on a train.
M - “Wish you had just let me take you home, you’d have been in bed by now”
Y - “Still babysitting are we?”
M - “No just checking this cute girl I met tonight is safe, that’s all 🙂”
Struggling not to spit out your drink as you read the last message you stumbled over how to reply. Was she seriously flirting with you right now? Settling for a funny but ugly faced selfie with “cute you say? 😂” to gauge if she really was flirting or just being kind.
M - “Don’t ruin your pretty lil face please”
M - “Although if any creep comes and sits near you that face will make them run a mile 🤣”
Y - “Didn’t work on you though did it 😉”
M - “Cheeky! 😳”
M - “Sorry again about tonight”
Y - “You’re gonna have something to actually be sorry about soon if you don’t stop!”
Y - “Honestly it’s okay, your actions after I told you speak louder than your ones before”
M - “That’s a nice thing to say”
Y - “Yeah you’re not used to saying nice things are you!”
M - “Shut ittt! What ya listening to?”
Y - “Nothing, I just put them in so no one talks to me, I need to hear the station announcements otherwise I get distracted and miss my stop 🙃”
With that she tried to FaceTime you but assuming it was a mistake, you didn’t answer.
M - “You ignoring me now?”
Y - “Assumed it was a butt dial 🤷🏻‍♀️”
M - “No I wanna see your face”
Y - “I’ve already sent you a photo!”
Your message had barely delivered when she tried to call you again, staring at your phone for a while before reluctantly answering; you wanted to be left alone to process the day and unwind from the overstimulation you had endured for hours but here you were FaceTiming with Millie Bright. What a mad day! “You don’t give up easily do you?“ was your opening line, “not when I want something, no” she smiled from the other side of the phone. Giving her a stern look with a raised brow you really didn’t know how to take her, what you did know is that her cheeky smile made you feel warm inside... It was either that or her massive coat still wrapped around you! She asked how long until your station and set a timer so you didn’t miss it which you secretly thought was adorable and incredible thoughtful. “For someone who didn’t want my coat, you’re still wearing it” she teased, rolling your eyes again as you leant your head on the window. She asked you where home was and said again that she would have driven you as she lives near by, you replied cheekily that your mum told you not to get into a car with a stranger. “Strangers are we?” her voice turned high pitch and excitable, “we’re hardly anything other!” you hit back. Millie wanted to change that and asked you to tell her about yourself, explaining that you’re exhausted you suggested she go first as your blinking slowed, you barely had the energy to stay awake let alone make small talk.
“Okayyy... I’m Millie, 29 years old” you were surprised at her age as she seemed older which she jokingly took offence to. You exchanged birthdays, star signs and talked about family - something that means a lot to the both of you. “I’m a footballer, as you know” pulling a 💁🏼‍♀️ face, “oh are you? I didn’t know that! I did wonder how you got this coat” you said popping the hood sarcastically. “Can certainly tell you live up to your star sign, your sarc is off the charts!” seemingly impressed that someone can keep up with her banter. “Your simp is off the charts!” you snapped back quickly. “Shit, is it that obvious?” her eyes widened in shock as you nodded in a ‘well duh’ sort of way. “So you’ve known I’ve had the hots for you all this time and you’ve just been knocking me back?” she asked as she laid down on her bed holding the phone above her head looking sleepy and adorable. Telling her you couldn’t let her have it easy, plus you didn’t know if she was flirting or just being friendly because she fucked up earlier, Millie assured you she wouldn’t do that but you reminded her that you didn’t actually know her and it pays to be cautious. “You were a right bellend and then went all soft” you said kicking your feet up on the chair in front of you, “I was just having a bad day” she muttered glancing away from the camera, “wanna talk about it?”. She spoke about her day at Chelsea, they sent her away as she’s still not fit to play, she can’t talk about her injury as it’s in her contract not to, she just wanted to be playing with the girls and is sad she’s missing out on the last England camp before the World Cup. Camp is her fave place to be and was extra sad because she’s missing out on seeing her best friend.
The alarm went off on Millie’s phone so you knew the next stop was yours, you thanked her for keeping you company but she wouldn’t let you say goodbye until you were safe in your car. Nobody had cared this much about your safety before accept your mum but you were still sceptical whether it was because she felt guilty for causing you to have a meltdown earlier.
“Are you home?” pinged up on your phone as you pulled up on your driveway. You couldn’t help the corners of your mouth turn up as you saw her name flash but decided to keep her waiting while you made your way inside your home, turning on the lights and pulling on your bed clothes before falling into bed. Sending her a photo of your bedroom TV showing Friends and telling her to let you know an address to send her coat back to.
M - “The coat was a reason to see you again”
Y - “Oh and there was me thinking you were doing it out of the kindness of your own heart”
Your phone vibrated next to you as she tried to FaceTime you again, this girl just does not quit! “Are you single?” she immediately opened with as soon as you answered phone and plotted to play with her a little. “Who’s asking?” you teased, “me, obviously!” she giggled, anxiously waiting for an answer. “Oh no sorry, I’m taken” you paused before laughing. “Yes I’m single, haven’t found someone who can handle all this yet. I’m not into girls though soz” struggling to keep a straight face with the lie you told. “I don’t believe that, I’m not the only one who’s been flirting all night!” her voice once again high pitched as she sat up in bed appearing more alert with the conversation. “How dare you insinuate such a thing!” your tone turning dramatic, playing with her. You chatted for a little while until your eyes couldn’t stay open much longer and started to drift off. Millie watched you drop to sleep before hanging up, for some reason she wanted you and she wasn’t gonna stop until she got you.
—————————
“Good morning beautiful 😘” was the first notification you saw when you picked your phone for the first time of the day to look at the time.
Y - “It’s been a long time since I woke up to one of those texts 🤭”
M - “I’m surprised about that”
Y - “get to know me better and maybe you won’t be lol”
M - “I’d like to, are you going to the game tonight?”
The text exchange had been non-stop since your train ride home a few days ago. You hadn’t gotten tickets for the England v Australia game tonight as the stadium looked tricky to get to and two unknown stadiums in one week was just a bit too much overstimulation for you. Millie wasn’t taking no for an answer though as she asked you to go with her and to meet at her house, she’ll drive so there’ll be no public transport involved. You said you’ll think about it but in typical Millie fashion she replied “it’s a date, be here at 7 😉” sending you a pin of her address. You didn’t reply after that, still trying to keep her guessing. Of course you’d go if it meant seeing Millie again, your head had been filled with thoughts of her since the day you met!
Pulling up on Millie’s drive and climbing out of your car, she must have been watching and patiently awaiting your arrival as her front door flew open the moment she heard the hum of an engine. “Nice coat!” she shouted from the doorway, “I’ve got my own in here” you called out to her when opening the boot of your car to look for it. “Keep it, it looks good on you” she winked, holding her arms out for a hug, kissing you on the forehead as she squeezed you tightly then held her passenger door open for you to slip in. “So..” she started after turning the radio down “I’m gonna park in the player’s car park and we’re gonna go in through the back door, they don’t show that on the map” - informing you of what’s going to happen tonight. It was admirable that she’d taken on board what you’d said last time and was trying to ensure that you would be comfortable. “I haven’t looked at the map for tonight, I trust you” turning to smile at her after clicking your seatbelt in place. For the first time in ages you’d agreed to a spontaneous plan and hadn’t researched it to an inch of it’s life. The conversations you’d had with her for hours on end made you feel safe, like you could rely on her to make sure you have a stress-free evening. “That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever had” turning to look at you and squeezing your thigh. “Okayyy, what I’m hearing is that not a lot of people trust you so I shouldn’t?” jokingly opening the maps app on your phone. “No, stop. Obviously normal compliments are fine but being trusted feels better than say.. being called pretty or something” she shrugged. “Well you’re that too, I’ll see if I still trust ya at the end of the night” chuckling softly at the playful interaction. Both of you knew that the feelings between you were mutual and the days of pretending you didn’t were long gone.
Pulling into a space close to the England bus, Millie guided you across the car park towards the stadium, away from the hustle and bustle of thousands of fans making their way inside. As you neared closer her hand grazed against yours before locking your fingers together making your tummy do cartwheels. She flashed her lanyard and got waved inside, she lead you up the stairs and into a box, grabbing you both a tea and settling into your seats where she made sure you were on the aisle again. Eyeing up the line up together her head was almost on your shoulder as she leant over to look at your phone. The game was bleak, Millie watched you stand up and sit down every two minutes shouting support at the team, at a moment where you were sitting her hand found its way onto your thigh again “I love how into this you’re getting” she chuckled as softly as her eyes looked into yours. “I’m comfortable, I’m not like this if I’m not” shrugging at her comment. “Like the first game?” she asked, you nodded and explained how being yourself is harder when you’re uncomfortable then asked if she’s frustrated watching her team losing. “No, you watch the game but I’m studying it. Where we’re going wrong, what could have been done differently. It’s all learning. Yeah, it’s gutting but it helps us prepare for the World Cup… you carry on though, it’s cute” nudging her shoulder into yours. “My friends think I’m embarrassing” standing up again to watch a corner be taken, “I’d prefer you to be yourself” the defender’s hand grazed your back as she stood up next to you.
The evening was filled with smiley flirty glances towards each other and at half time she made her move, lifting her arm up and around your shoulders allowing you to snuggle into her. You reminded your date that the cameras would probably show her at some point but she didn’t care. This made you blush a little as you sunk further into her; with your feet up on the seats in front of you, it felt super cosy. The Lionesses came away with a loss, the first L under Sarina’s management. It was a tough pill to swallow as fan and player but you couldn’t have been prouder of the team. Losing made you appreciate women’s football, the crowd just accepted it and moved on. No arguments or swearing or violence - proud of the players regardless. Allowing the fans to trickle out of the stadium before making your exit, Millie held your hand every step of the way and once in the car park wrapped her arm around your shoulders again until you got to the car.
Her hand never left your thigh during the entire drive home and pulling up outside the house you were quick to climb out the car and wave goodbye, you desperately wanted to stay but suddenly felt awkward, what if she didn’t want to kiss you? You could never live with yourself if you were rejected. Heading towards your own car a hand clasped around your wrist, Millie was pulling you back towards her. “Can’t wait to get away from me aih?” she asked with a smirk as her forefinger stroked the hair out of your face. “No.. it’s not that..” looking down at your feet as your reply was muttered, “what is it then?” using the same finger to lift your chin so you were looking up at her. Her bright blue eyes and floppy blonde bun made you subconsciously moisten your lips as your eyes flickered between her facial features. This told Millie everything she needed to know as she moved her hand to the side of your neck and leant down to place a kiss softly upon your lips. Tiptoeing to meet her half way, her other hand held the small of your back pulling you closer into her, yours balanced on her hips as your lips entwined further. “Stay with me” escaped her mouth between kisses, your lips smiling against hers as small nods moved your head in agreement, faces still joined together until she pulled away to guide you towards the house. You’d had such a good night that you didn’t want it to end! Watching her close the door behind her you were quickly pulled back into her arms “I’ll have my coat back now” she smirked, pushing it over your shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Kicking your shoes off she wrapped her arms around your waist and you draped yours around her neck, tiptoeing to reach her as your lips found their way together again. As she started to lift you up off the floor you broke away, “you shouldn’t be doing that!” concerned about her knee, “don’t worry about it” her voice had turned husky between kisses as you connected your legs around waist. She walked you over to the sofa, sitting down with you on top of her, hands on each others face. Pulling her bunchie out to release her wavy blonde hair made you smile more as it dropped past her shoulders. “You have a beautiful smile” she said tucking your hair behind your ears before kissing you again “I’ve been dying to do this since I met you” she whispered. You questioned her statement as she seemed so grumpy, she insisted that she was smitten the moment you shared your food with her. “That’s why I sat down next to you, I couldn’t have gone inside” she reassured you that she didn’t realise how blunt she came across, especially if you don’t know her very well. All that was blown away now as you felt her hands pull your head towards hers again, you spent the night getting to know each other’s mouths until you fell asleep on her chest. As she stroked your hair your mind filled with happy little flutters, you felt like you’d finally found your person, someone that took the time to truly understand you.
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