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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

Note

21 for the kiss prompts. because I am me LOL

Alright, so, full disclosure, this is not CS fic. I was going to write CS fic for this. i was! I had this vaguely angsty Emma gets hurt and Killian loses his mind thing happening, but then—I didn’t write that. Instead, here’s Will Scarlet gets hurt and Belle French loses her mind and it’s hockey. It’s 2,000 words! I don’t know how that happened. Anyway, the prompt here was “bloody kiss” and I love Will Scarlet with the force of a thousand suns. If you guys want to send more kiss prompts, I’m still waiting for people to respond to my emails.

“You’re mad.”

“Your powers of deduction are truly unparalleled. What gave me away, exactly?”

Will bit his lower lip. Let his teeth dig down until he tasted blood and, well—more blood, he supposed. Six stitches later, though, and there wasn’t much blood left on his face, just a pair of narrow eyes doing their best to glare a hole through his cranium and he didn’t think that was entirely possible.

Biology had never been his strong suit, really. Unless you counted hauling off and punching some rat-faced bastard on the Caps who couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut about a possible offsides that had maybe happened two periods before and they’d been winning and it was fine. Totally fine. This was his job. Punching and bruising up assholes. Just a little bit, to remind them who they were playing and what was on the line and—

It was entirely possible Belle’s eyes were not entirely human.

His face flushed. Heat raced through either one of his cheeks, threatening what he could only assume was the structural integrity of his own eyes because Will couldn’t remember when he’d decided to widen them, exactly. Just that they were starting to dry out a little bit and Ariel was going to kill him.

She’d made that very clear post-game.

There might be a two-person line to wreak havoc, now.

“You get this little pinch between your eyebrows,” Will said, leaning forward until the top of his head nearly hit the bottom of her chin, “makes it easy to tell.”

Belle huffed. Crossed her arms. Nearly punched him in the face, which would have been something close to the peak of irony at this point, and then maybe Ariel wouldn’t threaten to kill him again. No, that was wishful thinking.

It’d be a miracle if they were allowed uptown later. Ariel had probably sent out an APB, or whatever the culinary equivalent of that was. No admittance until the blood had dried off his forehead and he laid prostrate at her feet, begging forgiveness for the error of his ways.

Like hell, he would.

This was his job. He was the—

Fuck, maybe he was a goon. He hadn’t scored in a while. Not even a secondary assist, or anything. Skating at the edge of the blue line on a fledgling power play did not an All-Star make, and, well, now that he thought about it, maybe Will had started jawing first. There were mumbled insults, at least.

From him, specifically. More than once, actually.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here, y’know.”

The pinch got—

Pinchier. Deeper. Like a tiny, little crevice between what Will was starting to realize were meticulously cared-for eyebrows and maybe he should get a CT scan or an MRI or something because it had taken him this long to notice she was also wearing his jersey. Too-long sleeves grazed the slight bend of her knuckles, looking as if she was actively stopping herself from fisting her hands at her side and that thought wasn’t supposed to make him smile.

Still.

Will’s lips tugged up. His eyes thinned. Nose crinkled ever so slightly. Something that had been growing increasingly familiar in the last few months of the season jumped between his ribs, like little flutters of wholly imaginary wings, and she kept wearing his jersey. Kept coming to games, and that was good because they’d gotten past the labels and expectations, all of which were sky-high on the NHL’s most romance-prone hockey team.

God, maybe he wasn’t just a goon. Maybe he was a complete and total asshole.

“This is Cap’s fault,” Will announced, and he’d been ready for the pinch. He was less prepared for those eyebrows he was starting to become a tad obsessed with to soar up Belle’s forehead, past the swoop of bangs that regularly messed with his cognizant reasoning.

She scoffed. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No, but maybe when we get back to—”

“I will kick you in the shins, Scarlet, I swear to every God you can think of.”

He tried not to deflate. Really, he did. But his name seemed to crack out of her, punching the bridge of his nose like Belle had actually pulled her right arm back and her scoff was more like an exhale that time. That had never happened.

Even before. Before the labels and the attempts at setting up Killian and watching that entire season and how often he stared longing at Emma, before Regina and Locksley continued to be parents extraordinaire and the jealousy started to eat away at him. Slowly, but surely and he never talked about that, but he figured she knew because Belle knew everything and—

“Bet you twenty bucks you could name more gods than I could.”

Another sigh. A tilt of her head. It made her bangs shift. He wasn’t sure what was happening in his chest. Expanding and contracting, a painful rhythm that hurt way more than the stitches or the shitty metaphors and he was glad she’d snuck into the locker room. Will didn’t want her anywhere else.

Naming conventions, aside.

“I’m sorry—” “—I love you.”

He almost fell over. Impressive, since Will was still sitting down and his feet didn’t entirely reach the floor from that position. His jaw dropped. He hated that. Partially because it hurt and mostly because he should have been way cooler, wanted to be way cooler, but there were dots of red on his girlfriend’s cheeks and teeth digging into her lower lip, now, and he resolutely ignored the ache in his calves when he slid back to his feet.

Curling an arm around her waist, he didn’t think much about the precise way he yanked her. Forward. Directly into his chest and that didn’t leave much room to bend his knees, but Will was less concerned with specifics and the staging of this than actually getting to the good part.

The kissing part.

Plus, Belle pushed up on her toes. So, that helped.

He groaned. Loudly, like embarrassingly loud. As soon as her head tilted and he could get his mouth on hers and they were all hands and lips and whatever she was doing with her tongue, tracing the lip he’d been so intent on biting through just a few moments before. Bending his knees did give Will some more leverage. To pull her even closer, moving his arm and ignoring her soft protests.

Most of them died when he managed to get a hand under her left thigh.

She groaned. Something to be said about symmetry, Will assumed. Although he also didn’t really...care. About the saying, mostly. Not when he was melting and falling, dropping into the deep end of a pool that was a shock to his system and the best thing that had ever happened to him and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Bar none.

Especially when she did that tongue thing.

Closing his eyes, he knew he had to tilt his head. Had to breathe and stay conscious and he didn’t want to think about the medical requirements of a professional hockey player at a time like that, but he knew consistent awareness of his surroundings was probably fairly important and the roar of triumph blaring through his brain made that a little difficult. Breathing would have to be enough for now.

“I can’t—” Belle’s shoulders heaved. Fingers dragged across the back of Will’s neck and he had to admit he was fairly impressed with her balance. Her right foot wasn’t on the ground. “Shit, I—” He pulled her lip between his teeth, tried to memorize the next hitch of her breath and he was about five-point two-three seconds away from losing his mind. Rocking his hips up was a very bad idea. He did it anyway. “Babe, I can’t think when you do that.”

Everything was spinning. He was spinning. No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t spinning. He was standing and touching and there was barely any color left in Belle’s eyes.

Pride prickled at the back of Will’s brain. Until pain joined the fray, making a glorious and unwelcome return at the precise moment he realized there was moisture on his cheek again. Warm and red and Ariel was going to kill him.

“Cap and Emma were making out in the hallway,” Will explained, “pre-game. Nothing they don’t normally do, and I don’t even think they knew I was there.”

“Is any of this supposed to make me feel better?”

He nodded. “I love you, too. Like it’s ridiculous how in love with you I am.”

Silence. As much as there could be in a locker room, at least. Water fell from shower heads a few hundred feet away, the low murmur of questions and Lucas-approved answers, squeaking sneakers and clacking heels, and the familiar sound of wheels rolling across linoleum as the equipment hampers moved down the hall.

Will took a deep breath.

Slowly, through his nose. Keeping the nerves off his face was harder than he expected, and even more ridiculous than whatever he’d just proclaimed because Belle had proclaimed first and it was entirely possible they were both colossal idiots. That put them on even ground, though.

He appreciated that.

“Why were you mad, ma moitié?”

There was the pinch, again. “Why do you think?” Will shook his head, brushing hair away from her eyes and he knew he didn’t imagine that sigh, either. Softer. More content. All that previous even ground. “Because I—” Belle started, and the color hadn’t left her face yet. “I know you think you’ve got to be this guy. Out there defending, not just the goal but the people and that’s...I’m super into that.”

“But?”

“But it makes me so nervous, I could spit.’

Will genuinely had no idea what noise he made. It might not have been human, really. Tearing out of his throat, his eyes bugged and he bent over without really meaning to, forehead finding Belle’s shoulder like that was the only reasonable landing place. He was still bleeding. Or bleeding again, whatever.

“Say that again,” he mumbled. Into her jersey. His jersey. Whatever, part two.

“Spit,” she repeated, making sure to enunciate every letter, “because I know you can hold your own in a fight, and that’s how you think you make a difference on this team, but—”

“It is that’s why.”

“Was my shin-kicking threat not threatening?”

He kissed exactly where his lips were. “Not really, no.”

“‘Cuz I’ll totally do it, I swear. To all those gods and goddesses and then they’ll descend from on high and tell you that they also think you’re an idiot who should know that letting some rat on the ice get under your skin is exactly what they’re trying to do. Plus, it’s way better when you check them, y’know?”

Lifting his head didn’t hurt. Made him a little nervous, anxiety churning his gut and this was not the way Will thought this would happen. Maybe he could get Belle to kick Killian too. For the making out. And the unspoken frustration. He was definitely an idiot. “Is it just?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Don’t have to. You’re very easy to read.”

Belle lifted her eyebrows. More. “That so?’

“You think it’s super attractive when I check another dude.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. Also, I love you.”

“You mentioned that before, yeah.”

“And I am sorry for freaking you out.” Sigh number three wasn’t quite as resigned as the others, but it still left guilt rising in the back of Will’s throat and every single inch of him froze. As soon as Belle leaned around him, grabbed a far-too-large handful of gauze and started wiping blood off his cheek. “That’s way too much, babe.”

“Ariel can deal.”

“Ya gonna kick her too?”

“I’ll consider it,” Belle mumbled, back on both feet again. For, like, two seconds. Before she pushed back up on her toes, kissed the corner of Will's mouth, and added, “Don’t do that to me again, ok?”

“Aye, aye, Cap.”

He had much better reflexes than her. Pulling her back to his side before either one of her shoes could land a blow was easy and bordering almost close to joyful and that was a strange thing for him to be, but it was also easy and somehow even more simple and Ariel let them into the restaurant that night. They stayed for all of fifteen minutes.

And Will told Belle he loved her once every five minutes on the cab ride back to his apartment.

He timed it, and everything. Just to make sure the color stayed in her cheeks.

#kiss prompts #blue line one shots #WILL AND BELLE SUPREMACY #this was becuase the rangers won last night and i was feeling hockey-prone #so it's really the rangers fault #optomisticgirl #laura rambles

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flying-nightwing · 5 years ago

Text

The Dare

Hi guys! So this isn’t a Dark Fox update but I just HAD to write it once it crossed my mind. It’s really short, but I’ve been laughing about this for a few hours now. This is one for all of you Vine lovers.

Pairing: Batfam x reader

Word count: 1134

Warnings: A few swears from Jason

Summary: What happens when the bat children get bored at Bruce’s galas?

“I dare you to do it”

You raised an eyebrow and looked up at Jason, seeing the clear challenge in his eyes. The rest of your brothers had the same expression, sniggering at the dare they had thrown your way. The Wayne family unfortunately had to be present at all of Bruce’s galas and parties, but you would always find a way to entertain yourselves despite being stuck with the most boring people ever. Lately, you had been on a sequence of quoting as much ridiculous vines as possible while talking to the elite of Gotham. Memorable moments included notably when Tim pointed at the doves at the Peace Memoriam inauguration and yelled “Look at all those chickens”, as well as when Dick eloquently said “I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me” in Gordon’s face while recounting a made up detective story. That’s when you found out he was immune to your nonsense, having gone through it all already with Barbs.

“Sure” You shrugged.

“And it’s gotta be said straight faced, when he’s around people, Gordon doesn’t count as always” He added. “Gotta be talking with at least three witnesses or I’m calling it offsides”

“You think I won’t do it?” You replied, chin high. You were always game.

“I know you won’t do it” He teased. “I’m so sure, I’m betting 350$ cash and doing a month of your chores on it”

“Oh, I am definitely doing it now” You laughed at his attempts to make you quit.

“No way, you know you’ll be forever grounded if you do” Dick scoffed, crossing his arms and glancing at Bruce, who was seemingly having a pleasant conversation with some donor or something. “300$ and two months of chores you’ll chicken out and back down last second”

“Okay, okay” You nodded. “Anyone else wants to bet against my odds?”

“Sorry, I don’t think you’ll go through with it” Tim smiled sheepishly. “150 and three months”

“Dami?” You faced your younger brother.

“Oh leave me out of this” He rolled his eyes, disinterested. “I’m not risking getting in trouble for any of you”

“Alright so that’s a bet on you from the Demon” Jason concluded, clasping his hands together. “Now, showtime!”

You raised your nose at his evil grin and sniffed. “Just watch me”

You walked confidently toward your adoptive father, taking deep breaths so you wouldn’t seem off. You would get in so much trouble for this, it was all that echoed in your head. But at the same time, it was a small price to pay to prove once and for all your superiority to your brothers. You glanced behind you to see that they all had their attention on you, arrogant smirks on their faces, watching carefully for the moment you’d back down. They were in for a surprise, that’s for sure.

“Father” You smiled at Bruce when you came up to him, interrupting the conversation he was having. It didn’t seem that important anyway, with the way he twirled his whiskey and rested his hand in his pocket. He was barely listening. You made sure to count your witnesses; the Prescotts, a man with greying hair and one other with thick glasses and untailored suit. Four of them, bingo.

“Hey, is everything alright?” He asked, making a gesture at his conversation partners to excuse him of a moment. Okay, maybe you did look a bit off.

“I… Have something to tell you” You said, taking one last deep breath. Yup, this was it, the last nail on your coffin.

Bruce nodded, a crease forming in his eyebrows. You knew he was now suspecting something, with good reasons. He would be a fool not to, especially when his most mischievous kid was behaving weird. He had learned that lesson the hard way, but no previous experience would have ever prepared him for your next words. Making sure all five people could hear you--not that it was hard since they were all listening intensely already--you ripped the bandaid straight up. Here goes nothing.

“I put a whole bag of jellybeans up my ass”

You could have sworn you’ve never seen anyone go from confusion to horror so quickly. It was like he was frozen in place, unable to form any type of thought in answer to that. You glanced quickly at the four other people, seeing them sporting the exact same expression. You cleared your throat and forced a smile again.

“Anyway, good talk” You said quickly before spinning around and speed walking back to the boys.

They were all gaping at you like fishes, beside Damian who was still uninterested. Of course all of them could read lips, so they knew you had done it. And even if they didn’t, Bruce’s expression was pretty self explanatory.

“I…” Dick trailed off, still trying to process the fact that you walked up to the richest man in Gotham, whom was also you father, and told him where everyone could hear that you put a whole bag of jellybeans up your ass. They wouldn’t know it was from a vine either, which made it even wilder to him.

“I believe I owe you an apology, you madwoman” Tim said, visibly impressed “But you are also, might I say, dead. The second this party’s over”

“Worth it” You grinned, still replaying Bruce’s expression in loops when he realized what you had said. Man, if you could have taken a picture of that.

“Grounded forever” Dick repeated in a whisper, shaking his head.

“Ah, yes, but” You glanced at Jason, who hadn’t said anything yet. You wiggled your eyebrows at him and took a step forward. “I believe I’m owed, what was it again, 350 bucks and a month of chores from you”

You faced Dick. “300 and TWO months from Richard”

Then finally, Tim. “And 150 plus three months from you, Timothy. So that makes, wait, let me calculate, ah yes, 800 bucks and six months free of chores”

“Yeah, you better take that to buy a new identity and move to Russia, because Bruce is gonna kill you” Jason finally spoke up, scoffing in disbelief before a grin slowly crept up his face. “You’re fucking crazy you know that? Sayin’ that to Bruce fucking Wayne, you gotta have steel balls”

“Thank you” You smirked proudly, grabbing an hors-d’oeuvre from a passing tray and popping it into your mouth. You glanced at Bruce behind you, who looked like he was trying to explain your behaviour but not succeeding. His neck was red, and his movements awkward. Definitely death penalty for you. “But I’ve got one for you to save you ego, Jay Bird”

“... I’m listening” He hummed, leaning slightly forward.

“It’s simple really” Your grin widened in mischief. “Picture this: Selina and Barbecue sauce on my tiddies”

----

(For those who don’t know this iconic piece of work, here’s the vine)

#batfam #batfam imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #jason todd #jason todd imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #tim drake #tim drake imagine #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #robin #imagine

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years ago

Text

Amber & Cosmo

Amber: [Okay so my vibe is that she leaves the necklace for him after they’ve done the shopping trip like here’s an old sentimental thing to say thanks for helping me get a new thing and after she’s used Dash’s room to study like also thanks for that, but we’re leaving the envelope under his door/propped against it because he very much didn’t want her to go in his room again lol so he can find it when he gets back from his dad’s]

Cosmo: Does a token mean the ghost likes me?

Amber: I guess you must have managed not to anger the spirits for a while

Amber: impressive

Cosmo: My room also remains intact so, must be true

Amber: I won’t tease you by pretending there are things missing, that’d be too 👶🏽

Cosmo: I don’t have as much shit as he does, I’d notice before I worked out who this necklace is really from

Cosmo: If only there was some subtle hint, like

Amber: If only someone had filled the envelope with ⭐️ to the point it was difficult to close

Cosmo: Your dad is gonna think someone’s been really good

Amber: He knows you have, giving me somewhere quiet to study, though he’d take them all back if I’d told him about 👗 shopping

Cosmo: I’m glad to hear you enjoyed the quiet

Cosmo: and people donate things with tags on all the time, he won’t find out, yeah

Cosmo: You could keep it here but the undeniable ego boost he’d get from thinking he can’t even remember the girl who left it is not happening on my watch

Amber: You really do spend time in a better postcode if you think anyone’s gonna believe a dress like that was donated, it’s the nicest thing I’ve ever owned

Amber: while I own it anyway, it won’t be long before it gets borrowed… but you’re right, that inevitable 💔 for me is better than the maybe of having to overhear to him brag

Cosmo: It’s a good dress

Cosmo: I definitely weren’t saying it wasn’t

Cosmo: You legit have to share everything?

Amber: I know it is, you’d have made a face if I looked stupid

Amber: You put something down, it gets picked up by whoever wants it, there’s nowhere to hide anything

Cosmo: Put it in your school bag

Cosmo: Sounds weird but I bet no one is looking in there for anything

Amber: Less people are wise to that as somewhere to rummage through, it’s definitely worth a try

Cosmo: Now you’ve got no stash, anyway, right

Cosmo: When’d you leave here?

Amber: When did you get back? I tried to time it to just before

Cosmo: You must’ve done a good job

Cosmo: Maybe an hour but I’ve only just come upstairs, I had to talk to my ma first

Amber: I had to finish reading a chapter I’ll need for tomorrow and it wasn’t going in, but I couldn’t let myself be discovered this soon, not by anyone but you

Amber: how was the rest of your weekend?

Cosmo: Your secret is safe with me 👻 girl

Cosmo: We won our Sunday match, so that was good

Cosmo: then we had sunday lunch with my dad’s new girlfriend and her family, that was alright too

Amber: 😁 CONGRATULATIONS!

Amber: did you play 4-2-3-1?

Cosmo: Was that the chapter you were reading up on?

Cosmo: Otherwise, impressive

Amber: But did you? Because according to my research it’s ⭐️

Amber: A LOT of the tactics and why they apparently revolutionized football went over my head, but I remember that formation is really popular because it’s flexible and balances the defensive and attacking aspects

Cosmo: You should talk to our manager

Cosmo: because we didn’t

Cosmo: you really do like learning new things

Amber: Are you unbanning me from matches or practice?

Cosmo: I can’t say I’m just unbanning you from the changing room can I

Amber: maybe check with the rest of the team first

Cosmo: 😂

Cosmo: I didn’t ban you, anyway

Cosmo: I didn’t know you were genuinely interested

Amber: in anything other than how you all look in shorts, you mean

Amber: which part of my first impression made you think I was starved of male attention? Because I’d like to strike it from the record

Cosmo: It was the opposite, if we wanna be honest

Amber: We always wanna be honest

Cosmo: Sometimes there’s no need

Amber: If you didn’t have fun at lunch with your dad’s new girlfriend, that’s a kind lie, but this wouldn’t be

Cosmo: It’s not kind to offer up my opinion when it don’t matter

Amber: it matters enough to you to have formed one

Cosmo: What, you don’t have any opinions on me?

Cosmo: It’s what people do, you can’t help it

Amber: Not about your sex life, because it’s none of my buisiness, and mine wouldn’t be yours if Dash hadn’t gotten you involved in it

Cosmo: Well exactly, you can only base it on what you know

Amber: and you know I slept with your brother once, it isn’t enough to base anything on, because you also know he lied to me

Cosmo: Honestly, forget about it, I shouldn’t have said anything

Amber: All that’s gonna achieve is you carry on thinking the same

Cosmo: It doesn’t matter, you have nothing to prove

Amber: no, I don’t

Cosmo: Sorry

Amber: I can tell you are, it’s okay

Cosmo: I’m not like that

Amber: that’s obvious too, I don’t need crystals or cards to read people

Cosmo: I don’t care or judge you, it’s just what I thought

Cosmo: it wasn’t 👎 or 👍

Amber: Because of the reputation your brother and the commune has or because of me?

Cosmo: I guess it’s mostly because of him

Amber: if I’d met you first you could’ve warned me and neither of us would have to feel like this

Cosmo: I wouldn’t have done that

Cosmo: realistically

Cosmo: you look like his type, even if you actually aren’t

Amber: He obviously thought I was too

Cosmo: I mean the last thing I want is a lecture on polyamory or whatever

Cosmo: and equally the last thing that type appreciates is the warning so

Amber: I’d be the last girl to give you one, my parents’ failed attempts at it are the main reason we move

Cosmo: That’s shit

Cosmo: Whatever your parents love life looks like, shouldn’t affect your life at all

Amber: it’s not a deliberate act of sabotage on their part though, and when I was younger travelling had more upsides than downs, I didn’t really prioritize school and I still don’t know what I wanna do when it’s over anyway

Cosmo: It’s still wrong, whether they meant it or not is irrelevant

Cosmo: Where’d you get the necklace?

Amber: You can't get your wallet out again and offer to buy me another this time, boy

Amber: besides, I want you to have it for what it represents now, not what it used to

Cosmo: Thanks, I appreciate it

Cosmo: I should’ve got you something more than ☕️🥐

Amber: You’ve given me a room of your house

Amber: and secrets, I never get to have those

Cosmo: It’s not any trouble to me

Cosmo: and I’d take anyone over him so

Amber: Oh thanks 😂

Amber: after I’d set you up with the perfect opportunity to give me a compliment…

Cosmo: Can’t catch me out that easy, like

Cosmo: Try harder

Amber: You’re gonna regret saying that

Cosmo: 😏

Cosmo: You ain’t scary and I ain’t, remember

Amber: That’s for your manager to decide when we’ve talked tactics, maybe he’ll think I’m really intimidating

Cosmo: Maybe I’d pay to 👂 & 👀 that

Amber: I won’t ban you from the changing room while it’s happening, don’t worry

Cosmo: I reckon everyone’s thankful for that

Amber: that many pairs of 👂 and 👀 would probably be intimidating for a girl who didn’t live with what feels like 100s

Cosmo: I dunno how you put up with it

Amber: I’ve never lived different

Cosmo: I know

Cosmo: but you can still be annoyed by it

Cosmo: I’ve always had a brother and I still know he’s a dick

Amber: You don’t think I’ve vented to you enough about what annoys me?

Cosmo: You said that one, let the record show

Amber: Because you’re too well mannered to go there

Cosmo: Steady on

Cosmo: Just ‘cos you want a compliment of your own

Amber: so give me one

Amber: 🥺!

Cosmo: Don’t pout at me

Amber: [a pouty selfie ofc]

Cosmo: Dirty tactics

Amber: that's why they didn't work on you

Amber: you like good clean fun

Cosmo: Maybe

Cosmo: not giving a 👍 or 👎

Amber: Unless we're talking about the offside rule, I think I can cope without any tips

Amber: there wasn't a need for a ? now that I've gained a good understanding of what you like

Cosmo: Good’s pushing it

Cosmo: the offside rule you’ll have more luck with

Amber: pushing it if you've stretched the truth when we talked about what you're into, sure

Cosmo: As many questions as you ask, you reckon we’ve covered it all? 🤔

Amber: Because you want me to be wrong for the sake of it or because I really am and there's more you want me to know…

Amber: why are you suggesting we haven't covered it?

Cosmo: I’m suggesting we don’t know each other

Cosmo: not that we need to or have more to cover, like

Amber: You know too much to suggest you don't

Cosmo: Alright, James Bond

Cosmo: I don’t know anything THAT criminal

Amber: I don't do anything that criminal

Cosmo: Now it sounds like you definitely do

Amber: 😂 too bad for you that you don't wanna find out either way

Cosmo: 😏 gutting, yeah

Amber: It would be if you didn't have a head too full of ⚽️ to think about me

Cosmo: You’ll never get one of my mates with that attitude

Amber: I don’t need an in with them, I’ve got one with the manager

Cosmo: An in to…

Cosmo: free 🍊?

Amber: 🎫!

Cosmo: You can come, I’ll get you in

Amber: Your dad though

Cosmo: He can’t come next friendly

Cosmo: plus you’ve got no in with him, there’s not a box

Amber: it’d honestly be hard to concentrate surrounded by 🥂🤵🍾

Cosmo: It’s not the premier league, it’s not that fancy, I swear

Amber: thank god, I’d like to be invited back some other time

Cosmo: That sounds so sarcastic but I’m pretty sure you mean it 😅

Amber: See, I told you, you know me

Cosmo: Maybe my head isn’t all ⚽️

Amber: shh no, I’ll be back on a ban

Cosmo: Only if you piss of your manager friend

Amber: ruining the focus of his ⭐ player would

Cosmo: Alright, I’ll compliment you now

Cosmo: just to get you to stop, obviously

Cosmo: Talking to you hasn’t been awful

Amber: That isn't gonna be enough to stop me, but thanks

Cosmo: I might have to pout in a minute then

Amber: Don't even try it, you've maybe got me beat in any race but that's a contest I know I can win

Cosmo: Just say you don’t wanna see my face

Amber: I barely tried to get you to not try, admit you're a bad loser and you'll cry when I take 🥇

Cosmo: Is reverse-psychology hippie approved?

Cosmo: Seems a bit passive-aggressive to me

Amber: You thinking I'm a ⭐ hippie would mean I have to change my mind about how well you know me

Cosmo: I don’t

Cosmo: and that’s a free accidental compliment for you

Amber: it’s really sweet of you

Amber: [an adorably happy selfie]

Cosmo: Be a gracious winner, will you

Amber: after your 🥺📷 before it’d feel hollow

Cosmo: I can’t compete with that

Amber: because your competitiveness disappears off the pitch?

Cosmo: Not that

Amber: camera shy?

Cosmo: Come on

Amber: compliment shy then

Cosmo: I’m not shy

Cosmo: You know what you look like

Amber: But you can compete with me

Cosmo: Maybe it’s reward enough

Amber: or it’s been too long since anyone told you what you look like

Cosmo: You think I’m starved of female attention?

Cosmo: Interesting

Amber: the right kind, maybe

Cosmo: Maybe

Cosmo: the ‘wrong’ kind gas you up just as much

Amber: it doesn’t feel the same though

Cosmo: true

Amber: When’s the friendly?

Cosmo: [a weekday moment, I think they’re midweek vibes usually, thus making sense why your dad could be busy]

Amber: 😁 I’ll be there!

Cosmo: Me too

Cosmo: Once more and it’ll be a habit

Amber: it won’t cost you anything that time, not sure it even counts

Cosmo: So you’re saying we can have one more time

Amber: I am

Cosmo: Swimming?

Cosmo: It’s the other thing on your list

Amber: it’s something we have in common, a like, because I don’t know how you feel about dancing

Cosmo: I can

Cosmo: I don’t have to lurk by the bar

Amber: how many drinks do you need before you do?

Cosmo: I said I don’t much

Amber: okay, I believe you, you’re not shy and you must like it

Cosmo: Probably not how you like it, or as much

Cosmo: but I don’t feel cringe

Amber: and I won’t have to either, which I would if I was forcing you onto the dance floor against your will

Cosmo: So, what would you prefer?

Amber: If you picked, it’s not ALL about me

Cosmo: Meet me [some beach] at [a crazy early time, potentially before school if we are in school rn]

Amber: [I totally think we should say we are because it fits for the awkward date timeline and I think I mentioned school earlier in the convo because of it being Sunday eve rn]

Amber: I don’t know it but I’ll find it

Cosmo: I forgot you’re new

Cosmo: I can pick you up again, if you’d rather

Amber: that’d give us more time there

Cosmo: The phonebox then

Amber: I don’t mind if it becomes a habitual meeting place

Cosmo: We could both get quite the rep if it did

Amber: no worse than the one I already have

Cosmo: I don’t even think that’s debatable, soz

Cosmo: however sex-positive you wanna be

Cosmo: and footballers involvement with sex workers is long and checkered so yeah, not a good look for me most of all

Amber: okay fine, slightly worse

Cosmo: 😆

Amber: you turn the wrong things into contests, you know

Cosmo: If you were a lad you’d have to think about those things too

Cosmo: especially a lad with things to lose

Amber: I have to think about things that are more likely to actually happen, because I’m not a boy and you are

Amber: reputation is nothing on the threat scale

Cosmo: That works until you’re getting into a car with, and have met up with me on multiple occasions

Cosmo: despite the fact I’m a total stranger, so I doubt the sincerity of your fear

Amber: I never said I made good decisions, or that I was scared of you

Cosmo: I know you don’t

Amber: Hypothetically, I have more to lose, that’s all, because you could easily kill me, especially if you keep holding what I did with your brother over my head

Cosmo: Yeah, that’s what I mean

Cosmo: it’s not more likely I’m a serial killer

Amber: If you don’t like the way I interpret what you say, say it differently

Cosmo: I’ve not expressed any intention to hurt you

Cosmo: I said scandal would kill my career, which is true

Amber: I know, and I’ve said before that I’m not gonna get you involved in anything scandalous

Cosmo: then we’re fine

Amber: we can meet somewhere else if it’s gonna be not fine for you

Cosmo: It won’t be

Cosmo: it’s just that people like you always act like reputation means nothing

Cosmo: It’s everything and it’s a lot of work to maintain a good one

Amber: People like me have it decided for them, I’m not gonna give power to bullshit that isn’t even true

Cosmo: No, that means you’ve not ever tried and you never will

Cosmo: no one is gifted a good reputation, you earn it, you prove yourself

Cosmo: you sit back and cry about your lack of privilege, if you wanted it, you’d go and get it

Amber: Tried to what, change people’s innate bias? Obviously not because it’s inevitable they think those things about me, you said it and you did it

Amber: I look like your brother’s type, you’re waiting for a lecture on polyamory, all that free love bullshit, I shouldn’t have to prove what I’m not like

Cosmo: Why shouldn’t you?

Cosmo: And why wouldn’t you

Cosmo: Who do you think you are that you’re exempt, proving yourself is the only worthwhile thing you could spend your time doing

Cosmo: Not holding yourself back by what people automatically think by never challenging that and acting like that’s their bad

Amber: It is their bad if they don’t challenge it by bothering to get to know people individually

Cosmo: That’s stupid, and unrealistic

Cosmo: You aren’t special

Cosmo: If you don’t offer something to the world no one is ever going to give a shit about you, that is the actual reality we operate in

Cosmo: you’re setting yourself up for more complaining and disappointment by expecting anything different

Amber: I could be special to someone, if we both look deeper than the surface and get to know each other, who I am is what I have to offer the world, that’s the reality

Cosmo: Maybe

Cosmo: You’re gonna meet a handful of people in your life, and you’ll stick with one of them, ‘til it falls apart and then you pick another one

Cosmo: If that’s what you want

Amber: Why wouldn’t I want that?

Cosmo: Loads of reasons

Amber: such as…?

Cosmo: Both aforementioned, you really think out of all the people in the world, you’re going to find the right one

Cosmo: no

Cosmo: and it will end, usually badly

Amber: I think it’s possible and lots of impossible things happen daily anyway

Cosmo: Good luck then, seriously

Amber: that implies I’m just hoping and won’t actually do anything to make sure it doesn’t end badly or the person is right for me

Cosmo: Most people try on both fronts

Cosmo: the numbers don’t lie

Amber: odds get beaten and then the numbers don’t matter

Cosmo: I said good luck and I meant it, for real

Amber: and what you're really saying is drop it now, right?

Cosmo: No but what more do we really need to say on it

Cosmo: go ahead if you’ve got something

Amber: Cynical

Cosmo: I’m realistic

Amber: I'm realistic, you point out the downside

Cosmo: The downside is realistic

Amber: 😂 as is admitting the existence of a plausible upside

Cosmo: I know there is

Cosmo: I’m on the path to mine

Amber: I can't wait to see you play

Cosmo: I’ll try not to disappoint you

Amber: Not gonna happen, we're both realists

Cosmo: Not another thing in common 😏

Amber: We’re not up to 9, you can relax

Cosmo: Tah, like

Cosmo: So, what’s on the agenda for you now?

Amber: feeding the 5000 with my share of meal prep for the week, putting the 🐓 to bed, counting plastic babies ready for my mama's morning drop in session… because I don’t know why but they go missing quicker than 🌿 in this place and there’s never enough for the number of parents who come, maybe it’s 👽

Amber: and finishing the homework I didn't at yours

Amber: What are you gonna be doing?

Cosmo: Well, none of that is anything I would’ve guessed 😅

Cosmo: Maybe the meal prep

Cosmo: I have to do that too, help my ma

Amber: I’m surprised you didn’t guess about the animals, and honestly shocked if you’ve never had any 🐐 visit you

Cosmo: You haven’t looked out the window you’re coming in?

Cosmo: we’ve got our own here, I’d not notice yours from my nans

Amber: I thought you’d be able to tell them apart

Cosmo: Why did you think that? 😂

Amber: you’re pretty observant, I don’t know

Cosmo: Yeah but, hardly on my radar

Amber: but you could tell me apart from the other girls here before I was on your radar

Cosmo: You aren’t a goat

Cosmo: neither of us can count that as a compliment

Amber: I’m gonna, they nearly knock me over all the time, it’s annoying

Cosmo: More annoying than the other girls?

Amber: that’s girl dependent, some of them for sure

Cosmo: I get you

Cosmo: I’ve seen plenty come and go

Amber: Am I the first you’ve spoken to?

Cosmo: Are there still Cavantes there?

Cosmo: Because I have some tenuous connection to them, some of them have spoken to me before

Amber: [list any that could be because I’ve forgotten which Caleb children exist and when lol]

Cosmo: Yeah, those ones [the ones around your age range]

Cosmo: most of them suck

Amber: I can’t argue with you, as much as I know you like it

Cosmo: Nah, you don’t have to pretend they ain’t, is all I’m saying

Cosmo: they’re not family or anything I care about

Amber: I probably wouldn’t have, I don’t have your manners

Cosmo: Yeah, fair enough

Cosmo: Why’d you ask?

Amber: more curiosity, I guess

Cosmo: Not wanting to be ⭐️?

Amber: you don’t believe I’m special, we covered that

Cosmo: I don’t think anyone is

Amber: What about yourself?

Cosmo: You think I’m that dickhead

Cosmo: No one but me

Cosmo: no, obviously not

Amber: I think you must have self belief to do what you’re doing

Cosmo: I believe in hardwork

Cosmo: and luck

Amber: but hard work isn’t all it takes, or anyone could be a ⚽️⭐️

Cosmo: right, that’s the luck

Cosmo: I’ve not earnt it, but if it happens I have to work hard to not waste it

Amber: Why haven’t you earned it? You’ve been working hard since you were a kid

Cosmo: I didn’t earn having a dad who already got his shot

Amber: that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve yours, you’re not your dad

Cosmo: It means I’ve had help loads of people don’t get

Cosmo: that doesn’t make me less deserving any more than it makes them more because they’re the ‘underdog’

Amber: right, but you also have talent lots of people don’t have

Cosmo: Lots of people do too

Amber: okay, but special isn’t a bad word, it’s allowed

Cosmo: I just think it’s bullshit

Amber: it’s just praise

Cosmo: I don’t need it

Amber: doesn’t everyone, sometimes?

Cosmo: Maybe, I really don’t know

Cosmo: achievements works fine for me

Amber: so you’re fine and gonna be fine

Cosmo: What are you saying?

Amber: nothing, what do you want me to be saying?

Cosmo: Just that

Amber: 😶

Cosmo: Go search for the 👶s and 🐓s

Cosmo: and don’t forget your towel

Amber: You’d let me share, no question

Cosmo: I’ve told you the changing room isn’t like that, babe

Amber: I’ll bring my own when I meet you at the gym, your friends don’t have to pout

Cosmo: It’s like you have met them already

Amber: you’ve told me plenty about them, I feel like I’ve got the picture

Cosmo: You think that about me as well

Amber: are you asking me or telling me what you think I think?

Cosmo: You’ve said as much, so I’m just reiterating

Amber: I definitely don’t have your full picture

Cosmo: 🖼

Amber: 👨🏽‍🎨

Cosmo: Is that you or me?

Amber: you still creating yourself, meet me at the phonebox in maybe 70 years and you can give me the full picture

Cosmo: But you’re done already?

Cosmo: bit rude

Amber: I'll never be done but you don't wanna know me like that, boy

Cosmo: Maybe

Amber: you'll remember to keep the date with me when we're old?

Cosmo: If I’m still around, sure

Amber: 👴🏽💪🏽

Amber: you again, absolutely not what I’m gonna be looking like in the future

Cosmo: A serious downgrade 😅

Cosmo: I can’t imagine being that old though

Amber: if you still won’t send me selfies I’ll have no idea what to expect

Cosmo: You’ll have time to get better at stalking

Amber: or asking you politely to do what I want

Cosmo: If you show that much perseverance, I’ll definitely reward it, like

Amber: I'll stay in touch wherever I am in the world, until technology gets too complicated for me and my grandkids refuse to help me flirt with faces from the past

Cosmo: 🤣

Cosmo: they sound ungrateful already

Amber: They're cynics too, it makes sense they would be, where's their granddad in all this? He can't be that special to me if I'm talking about you as the one who got away

Cosmo: Maybe a lifetime of every day does that to a relationship

Cosmo: I’m sure he was special once upon a time

Amber: Are you saying I wouldn't be fun to spend every day with?!

Amber: I won't keep haunting you then

Cosmo: Your husbands the dead one, not you

Amber: you called me a 👻 first, before I had a husband

Cosmo: I also said it wasn’t horrible hanging out with you

Amber: talking to me wasn't, is what you said, but now I know you like hanging out with me too

Cosmo: Damn it 😏

Amber: You kinda gave yourself away on that on the shopping trip anyway, I wasn't looking in the mirror or at 👗 for the FULL hour, I saw you 😏

Cosmo: I weren’t looking at you in the mirror or at you in the dress the whole time either, just FYI

Amber: but we did pick the best, didn’t we? ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️?

Amber: hiding dresses in my school bag can’t become a habit, I need some space for 📚

Cosmo: I’d say 9 going out dresses was excessive but I’m sure the girls I know would think the exact opposite

Amber: I assume they have the wardrobe space I don’t and 🥂🤵🍾 places to go

Cosmo: That’s the goal, anyways

Amber: I only need one if it’s the right one

Cosmo: And it is

Amber: promise it’s not a kind lie?

Cosmo: Cross my heart

Amber: okay, I’ll remove the tags

Cosmo: Remember to recycle for the karma to get back in your favour, yeah

Amber: I could use it to make a really tiny sign supporting you, since you hate praise so much

Cosmo: I don’t hate praise

Amber: that isn’t the impression you’ve given me so far, but maybe you just hate it from me

Cosmo: Maybe I only like it when I’ve earnt it

Amber: When have I tried to give you anything you haven’t earned?

Cosmo: You and me probably have different ideas of when praise has been earnt and when it’s premature

Amber: I don't see why we would, it's quite clear cut when praise has been earned or not, isn't it?

Cosmo: Nah, it’s definitely not

Cosmo: I’m not gonna tell you you’ve been over-praised and start something but I’m sure your parents are quicker with the ⭐️ than most

Amber: You're sure because…?

Cosmo: how you are, it’s quite obvious

Amber: Oh because I have an understanding of my self worth, I'm happy that's obvious

Cosmo: See, you even said that dead cocky

Amber: You're making an assumption, I could've had lots of really supportive friends or boyfriends, or spent every day looking into the mirror giving myself praise

Cosmo: I’m not wrong though

Cosmo: and parental relationships trump those by far in terms of shaping development so double not wrong

Amber: Not wrong just very smug about being right

Cosmo: You’ve taken it as an insult, I didn’t say it as one

Amber: When has cocky ever been used as flattery?

Cosmo: First time for everything… ?

Cosmo: I only called you cocky once you got on the defensive

Amber: if I'm on the defensive it's because the negative traits you think I have are piling up

Cosmo: I didn’t say it was negative, for the 2nd time

Amber: I don't believe you any more than I did the first time

Cosmo: Well I can’t change that now

Amber: My attention's on dolls and chickens anyway

Cosmo: 👍

Amber: You really can't change it, can you?

Cosmo: What do you mean?

Amber: how you are, how these conversations always go

Cosmo: Were you expecting me to?

Cosmo: Sorry to disappoint

Amber: You're not, or the apology would be realer

Cosmo: Because who are you to ask me to change myself

Cosmo: what the fuck

Amber: Who am I to ask you to think before you speak? The person you're talking to

Cosmo: I don’t need to listen to this

Amber: and I don't need you making me feel bad about myself every time we talk because you think I need to be humbled or whatever this is

Cosmo: Why are you still talking to me then

Amber: Because there's a side to you that doesn't make me feel like that

Cosmo: You deserve better than that

Cosmo: and I don’t want to be someone who makes anyone feel like shit

Amber: So try not to be

Cosmo: It’s not that easy

Cosmo: not with you, I don’t know why

Amber: change isn't easy ever, that's where trying comes in, and why I said it instead of telling you to just do it with a please tacked on so it seems less demanding

Cosmo: Or we could admit we’re a poor match

Cosmo: Wouldn’t that be easier for us both, and more sensible as well

Amber: No, you already admitted you like talking to and hanging out with me, which means we can do this

Amber: everything isn't wrong because we've identified a problem area

Cosmo: If you feel like shit I feel like shit

Amber: You're not your brother, it's not that bad between us

Cosmo: It’s not a comparison I need so close to hand

Amber: it's not a comparison

Amber: you sound like you're this close to offering to give me my necklace back when that's the opposite of what you should be doing

Cosmo: Alright

Cosmo: [my vibe is time to go to the phonebox and leave his necklace for her because clearly we shouldn’t see each other rn but that is the opposite]

Cosmo: left something for you

Amber: Where?

Cosmo: Come on

Amber: No, if you say the phonebox it means you’re not coming

Cosmo: I’ve just left

Cosmo: If you want it, it’s there

Amber: This feels like a breakup

Cosmo: It can’t be a breakup

Cosmo: just go to the phonebox, I obviously weren’t coming in

Amber: [do go and get that gal]

Amber: It's not your good luck charm, right? I don’t want it to be my fault you lose your friendly

Cosmo: It isn’t, you’re fine

Cosmo: I don’t have one and I wouldn’t gift you my own bad luck

Amber: thanks for not being upset enough at me to wanna hex me

Cosmo: I definitely haven’t chatted to enough girls there to know where to start

Cosmo: My dad got it for me, when I got my contract and my number

Amber: you’re sure you want me to have it?

Cosmo: I didn’t leave it for the next person who needs to call breakdown services to find

Cosmo: ‘course I do

Amber: I know, but you don’t have to give me anything to try and make up for what I said

Cosmo: I’m not, it’s not like that

Cosmo: You said you didn’t want yours back

Amber: and I don’t, I’m just checking you won’t want yours back when you have time to think about it

Cosmo: put it on and show me?

Amber: oh okay, if it looks stupid you want it back

Amber: [but do obviously]

Cosmo: Yeah, you can keep it

Cosmo: I’m sure

Amber: Are you gonna wear yours?

Cosmo: [send your first selfie back boy]

Amber: you do know how to 🤳🏽!

Cosmo: click and points not beyond my capabilities, yeah

Amber: your secret’s safe with me

Amber: and I won’t be expecting them all the time from now on, you can relax again

Cosmo: I’m sorry

Cosmo: for talking to you like that

Amber: I am too, for pushing you, I can usually communicate better than this

Cosmo: Me too

Cosmo: believe it or not

Cosmo: that’s what I meant, this isn’t how I usually interact with anyone, seriously

Amber: Neither do I and if it was always like that I’d drop it, but yesterday shopping, it wasn’t, I did something I never do but I didn’t once feel 👽

Amber: I have school friends I’ve known for months now that can’t put me that at ease

Cosmo: I know

Cosmo: I’m not going to say you’re imagining it or something

Cosmo: If we really were just incompatible, I’d have found a polite way to tell you by now

Amber: of course you would 😂

Amber: be my friend, please

Cosmo: I can hear the 🥺

Cosmo: You don’t have to ask nice

Cosmo: We can be friends

Amber: I thought I’d give you a break from seeing them

Cosmo: I thought that might be punishment

Amber: I don’t want to

Cosmo: That’s a relief

Cosmo: I know how tough you are

Amber: No you don’t, boy

Cosmo: You can prove it another time

Amber: at the beach?

Cosmo: It will be cold

Amber: I was convinced the necklace meant we weren’t going

Cosmo: No, I just didn’t want to see you RIGHT now

Cosmo: no offence, obviously

Cosmo: it’s just a lot, isn’t it

Cosmo: but we both still like swimming

Amber: I’ve liked it since I was a 👶🏽 you’re not having it in the breakup

Cosmo: 😏 Alright, ‘cos you can’t be claiming your new found love for the game/my income

Cosmo: I’ll have to cope

Amber: give me enough time to work out the offside rule before your next goodbye

Cosmo: It’s not that hard to get your head ‘round, just hard remembering it as you play

Cosmo: I’ll explain it before I go

Amber: if I didn’t have homework to finish I’d let you try now

Cosmo: Can’t say I’ll miss having to do mine

Amber: Do you have to do ⚽️ homework too like dribbling and headers?

Cosmo: I think we just call that training 😂

Cosmo: but yeah you’re in deep shit if you don’t show for that

Amber: pretend I knew that and didn’t make myself look stupid

Cosmo: It’s not stupid, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it put like that though

Cosmo: keeping up your skills and fitness is like homework, when you think about it, but I guess that delegitimizes it being ‘work’

Cosmo: Do teachers call their marking homework? Maybe

Amber: my dad calls it marking but he’s not like my teachers at [whatever the school is called]

Amber: some of them would definitely try and be relatable like that

Cosmo: Ugh, yeah, I can hear that, like

Cosmo: they also get holidays that only school kids get as well though, which they don’t like attention being brought to

Amber: 😂 maybe I’ll draw attention to it when they ask me a question I don’t know the answer to

Cosmo: I didn’t recommend it 😶

Cosmo: can tell your dad though if he gets an attitude about the weed

Amber: He’s forgiven me, I promised to help him do lesson plans and get his students to follow them, they’re all acting like they break up for summer next week

Cosmo: Teacher’s pet makes sense 🍎

Cosmo: glad you sorted it though

Amber: it’s kinda put me off 🌿 maybe my body will be a temple by summer

Cosmo: I know it’s like, meant to be the same as a glass of wine to take the edge off

Cosmo: and I know it could be

Cosmo: but what the fuck is my brother ‘taking the edge’ off of, all day, every day

Cosmo: I don’t care how benign, how ‘harmless’ but how is that any different from drinking or doing any other drug all day?

Amber: I’m not someone he’ll accept an intervention from, but he needs to hear it from somewhere, because you’re right, it’s too much

Cosmo: People have tried

Cosmo: You know how he is

Amber: and he’s not the only one, we both know being here all the time, surrounded by like minded people validates it as though it’s just another part of the daily routine

Cosmo: Yep

Cosmo: I can’t be bothered with him, I really can’t

Cosmo: it’s just infuriating

Amber: What does your dad say? It seems like something he’d have an opinion on…

Cosmo: Yeah he don’t like it

Cosmo: no one would care if he did it as well as doing anything fucking else with his days

Cosmo: he’s just living up to that lazy black boy stereotype, so dad doesn’t love that, of course

Amber: infuriating is a good choice to describe him and how intent he is on wasting his time

Cosmo: Fuck him

Cosmo: he’ll have to grow up eventually

Amber: And he’ll have to stop fucking other people over when I deny him as many easy ways to do it as I can, that’s what punishment from me looks like, FYI

Cosmo: Noted

Cosmo: and suitably impressed, once I see the results, like

Amber: I’ll try not to disappoint you the first time you’ve admitted you could be impressed by me

Cosmo: Shh

Cosmo: Sounds like something a loser would say, not a winner

Amber: 😶

Cosmo: 😁

1 note · View note

spine-buster · 5 years ago

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 26 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Just wanted to thank you guys for being understanding about the once-a-week posting schedule. Also, as always, your canon questions are really fun to answer, as are your comments about the chapters! Feel free to keep them coming.

Hope you enjoy this chapter because the next two focus on the playoff series with the Bruins and we all know how that went L O L (I’m still not over it).

When Bee walked into the Scotiabank Arena Monday night, ready for the Leafs to face the Florida Panthers, she already had Aryne and Alannah waiting for her impatiently. Bee hadn’t gone to the game against New York on Saturday because she was…tired. From work. At least that’s what she told them.

She knew that Fred and Tyler wouldn’t say a word to anyone about the fight. She trusted them. On Saturday, when the Leafs faced New York on Hockey Night in Canada, Bee just wasn’t up for going to the arena. She was still emotionally drained from the night before, and even though she and Morgan had a long talk that morning, resolving a lot of things, she didn’t want to be around people. She didn’t want to be around hockey. He respected that. The Leafs ended up losing in overtime, but when Morgan came home, he wasn’t in a bad mood. Instead, he took off his suit, threw on his pajamas, and held Bee in his arms for the whole night. He kept telling her how much he loved her; she kept telling him the same. He kept kissing her tenderly and apologizing; she kept saying there was nothing to apologize about anymore. He kept telling her how he wished he could give her the world, the moon and the stars – anything her heart desired and that she wanted in life; she kept saying she’d throw it all away – every bag, every shoe, every book, every moon and star in the universe – because all she wanted was him.

He asked if she would move in before the playoffs; she nodded her head and said yes. Morgan could have cried.

“We missed you on Saturday night,” Alannah said as she and Aryne hugged Bee. “Was everything okay? You haven’t missed a Saturday night game in a while.”

Bee shrugged her shoulders. “It was…um…”

“We know it wasn’t work,” Aryne put air quotes around the word, giving Bee a look. “Did you and Morgan have a fight?”

Bee bit her lip. “We did, but it was resolved before the game. I was just…I don’t know…emotionally drained, I guess.”

“What was it about?” Aryne asked.

Bee shook her head. She loved Aryne, Aryne was one of her best friends, but she didn’t want to get into it. She didn’t want to air her dirty laundry with her boyfriend to the wife of a member of his hockey team, regardless of how close they were. “The fact of the matter is that we talked about it and solved it. And, um, I’m moving in.”

Both Alannah’s and Aryne’s jaws dropped. “Um, please hold,” Aryne raised her hand dramatically. “You’re moving into Morgan’s place?! When?!”

“Before the playoffs,” Bee revealed. “He’s wanted me to move in for a bit now, and, well, I finally agreed on Saturday night.”

“Bee, this is huge,” Alannah commented with a giant smile on her face. “I mean, especially if he’s wanted you to move in for a while. What was stopping you?”

My own fear? She couldn’t say that out loud, at least not to them, so she settled for another shrug of her shoulders. “I guess I just wanted to get a job first before making such a big life decision,” she said. “I mean, it’s still technically not even a year since we met. We’re just reaching our six-month anniversary. No relationship I’ve ever had has ever gone this…fast.”

“Yeah, but you and Morgan, like…love each other,” Aryne said. “Like, I don’t think I’ve ever met a couple as on the same page as you guys. Morgan looks at you like you put the stars in the night sky, and you look at Morgan with this glimmer in your eyes and the softest smile on your face…and it honestly makes me sick,” she joked, garnering a laugh from both girls. “But I’m serious. You guys just sort of have this way about you, as if you’ve been together forever. You guys get each other. That’s the most that anybody can ask for in a relationship.”

Bee couldn’t help but smile. “And that’s why it feels right,” she said. If Aryne could see it – if the outside world could see it – then it must mean something, right? “It might be…you know, quick for some people, but it feels right to us. It feels like the natural progression of our relationship.”

“Well, I’m so happy for you,” Alannah said. “You’re over his place so much as it is. Why delay the inevitable?”

“That was his reasoning.”

“Aryne!” a voice called suddenly, interrupting their conversation.

Aryne spun around to see who called, and when she recognized the two people waving, she squealed and outstretched her arms to hug them. Alannah was smiling as well but Bee had no idea who they were. Soon, Aryne turned back towards the girls with a giant smile on her face. “Alannah, you guys have met, but Bee – these are my in-laws! Barb, Joe, this is my friend Briony McTavish!”

Bee’s face immediately lit up when she learned who they were. “Mr. and Mrs. Tavares! It’s so nice to meet you!” she shook their hands.

“Aryne has told us so much about you!” Barbara smiled. “Are you excited for the game tonight?”

“Very,” Bee smiled. “Gosh, you guys must be so excited to become grandparents!”

“Our first grandbaby!” Joe smiled, looking down at Aryne’s bump lovingly. “Barbara can’t wait to be a babcha. She’s already got a makeshift nursery set up. Even took out some of John’s old clothes to see if they can be given some new wear.”

“I think I’ve been shopping enough to cover that,” Aryne winked at Joe. “There’s also still the baby shower. Maybe just take out that classic Leafs toddler jacket you bought him for one of his baby photoshoots.”

“Oh my God, I’m going to completely melt if I see that,” Alannah quipped. “It’s like when Hank has his little Leafs onesie on. I totally become a pile of goo.”

“Briony, Aryne tells me this is your first season with the Maple Leafs,” Barbara said. “How have you taken to hockey so far? Do you like it?”

“I like it when we win,” Bee joked, getting a laugh from everyone around her. “To be honest, I’m still learning and getting used to it. Especially the line changes. Now I have to learn about the playoff format. It never ends!”

“It really doesn’t,” Barb shook her head. “John’s…what? 28 now? It’s been 25 years since we started hockey and I’m still learning things.”

“Just wait till the game starts, Barb. Bee knows all about the offside rule,” Aryne wiggled her eyebrows, garnering another round of laughs from the group. Aryne turned on her heels and waved at the group to follow her. “We should get to our seats before puck drop.”

Something must have been in the air at Scotiabank Arena that night, because by the end of the 1st period, it was already 4-2 for the Leafs. John had scored two goals, with Patrick and Jake scoring the other two. Aryne, Joe, and Barbara were going crazy, cheering him on and clapping, and the Sportsnet cameras shot to them to show their celebration. With the way they were sitting – Alannah at the end, then Bee, then Aryne, then John’s parents, Bee was definitely caught on camera. And she only realized this because Angie decided to send her the video, already uploaded onto Sportsnet’s Twitter account, of them all celebrating John’s two goals. Bee’s Rielly jersey definitely gave every viewer an indication of who she was there for.

“I have to go to the washroom,” Aryne mentioned as John’s parents were being interviewed by one of the Sportsnet personalities. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Bee said as they both got up, letting Alannah know where they were going.

Bee began to walk up the stairs but Aryne walked down. When Aryne noticed Bee wasn’t beside her, she looked up. “I don’t want to walk up all those steps,” Aryne grimaced, putting a hand on her bump. “Let’s just go to the regular ones. I’m so tired.”

Bee could only acquiesce as she followed Aryne to the regular bathrooms, not the ones located in the friends and family section high above them on their special level. They waited patiently in the line, and although they kept a steady conversation, Bee noticed some long stares coming their way. She wondered if Aryne noticed them too. When a free stall came up, Aryne bolted inside, leaving Bee to wait for her, scrolling through her phone and reading all the updates she wasn’t able to read earlier in the day because of work. She checked her Instagram, as always, and saw a new barrage of notifications.

You have a new BFF in the Leafs squad every week. First Lucy now Aryne. Must be because they see how desperate you are and want nothing to do with you.

how do i become a wag like u can u help

Wearing Mo’s jersery so u can let everyone know ur with him. Ur a joke.

The desperation R E E K S off of you! You are never going to be as pretty as Cassie or Steph Lachance or any of those girls so quit while you’re ahead! AND GO TO THE GYM FFS!!!!!

I know you’re not trying to be like the other wags. That’s very noble of you, I guess. But do you really think this crusade of yours is going to last? There are only so many comments Morgan will be able to take about how fat you are before he finally sees it and dumps you. You’re only getting fatter and fatter and it’s embarrassing for you and for Morgan. Why would you put him through that? You will never be part of the inner wag circle because of the way you look. That’s just how it is. That and the fact that you are bleeding Mo dry of his money.

“I’m telling you, that’s Briony McTavish,” a louder than anticipated whisper broke Bee out of her thoughts. She looked up from her phone quickly to see three girls standing near the entrance, one with a phone in her hands directed right at her. The second they noticed that Bee was looking at them, the girl holding the phone lowered it dramatically and put it in her purse.

Bee sighed. “You guys can approach me, you know,” she called out to them. “I don’t bite.” The girls’ mouths gaped open, like they didn’t know she could speak. She smiled politely to try to get the girls to calm down. “I mean it girls, I don’t bite. Did you want to speak to me?”

The girls shuffled over, looks of fear mixed with worship and complete shock adorning their faces. Two blondes, one with straight hair and one with short curly hair, clearly couldn’t believe what was happening. Their brunette friend – the one who had the phone in her hand – was able to find her words first. “Sorry, we just think you’re really pretty,” she said. “It’s nice to see a wag who isn’t a skinny blonde.”

“Well, thanks,” Bee said, unsure if she should be grateful for the compliment. “You could have asked to like…take a picture of whatever. I wouldn’t have minded if you had asked. I would just appreciate it if you didn’t take creeper shots of me.”

“Sorry,” straight-blonde-hair-girl said. “It’s just…well, we know that Morgan uploaded that picture of you on his birthday, but you’ve just been all over the blogs online--”

“The blogs? All over? What do you mean?”

“You know…like, people are talking about you on the bunny blogs!” straight-blonde-hair-girl clarified, like it was the best thing in the world to get talked about online. “We know they’re bunny blogs and we should take everything they say with a grain of salt, but like, there was that whole thing where you were in Cassie’s New Years video that basically blew up all of Leafs Tumblr and the bunny blogs, and then the Vancouver pictures and then Morgan’s birthday pictures--”

“Seems like a lot of people are stealing a lot of my pictures,” Bee said sarcastically.

“It wasn’t us, we swear,” the brunette jumped in. “Everybody is just, like, wondering who you are. That’s all. There are like, the mean girls who start rumours about you, but nobody listens to them. I guess because you aren’t as open as Cassie people just want to know more.”

“Why aren’t you as open as Cassie? ” the one with the short curly blonde hair finally spoke.

Bee couldn’t believe she would ask such a question, but she also knew that these girls were going to write into those same bunny blogs the second this conversation was done with, so she had to watch what she was going to say. “Morgan and I are just private people. Especially Morgan. He’s super private and super protective. And we want to keep it that way.”

“Did Morgan help you get the job at Scotiabank?”

Bee’s body stiffened. “How…how do you guys know I work at Scotiabank?”

“Well, like, someone Googled your name I guess, and it was on some website,” the young blonde said. “It’s been all over the bunny blogs.”

A shiver ran up Bee’s spine. She couldn’t believe how much information was out there about her, that they managed to find and steal from her, yet these girls still wanted to know more. Should she just come out with her blood type? What her favourite movie was when she was five? Her DNA configuration? What more could they want from her? “No, he didn’t help me get the job. I have a Master’s in Financial Economics. I got the job all on my own.”

All three of the girls smiled on cue. “Told you so!” the brunette said to the straight-blonde-hair girl. She turned her attention back towards Bee. “Sorry, it’s just that there was this huge thing online about whether or not you quit school when you met Morgan or if you had just finished your program, and there was this whole thing that Sydney Esiason said in a comment on Insta but everyone thinks it’s about Cassie, and some girl claiming to be from your program was all like ‘We’re just done, Briony’s one of the top students in the course’ but someone else, also apparently from your program, was like ‘She quit the second she started going out with Mo because all she’s ever done is aspire to be a wag and all she used to talk about was bagging a Leafs player’ and it was all--”

“Please don’t believe everything you read on the Internet,” she interrupted. The girl hadn’t taken a breath since mentioning everything that was happening online – it seemed like she lived her entire life there. More shivers ran up Bee’s spine. To think someone in her program was engaged in this – that they even had the time to engage in this – was beyond her. “I’m just a girl trying to work and I happen to have a professional athlete boyfriend. That’s all I am. There’s nothing special about me besides my Master’s degree.”

“Morgan definitely thinks there’s something special about her, and I do too,” Aryne’s voice interrupted their conversation as she made her way out of her stall. She looked over at the girls as she washed her hands; again, their jaws dropped at the sight of John Tavares’s wife. “You can write to all those bunny blogs and tell them Morgan’s never gonna get with them, so they need to stop,” she said, her voice strict. “You can also tell everyone that the DMs Bee gets are hilarious and pathetic all at the same time, and we laugh at them over bottles of sauvignon franc at restaurants those girls could only dream of eating in.”

The girls’ eyes went wide. “It’s not us--”

“I know it’s not you. It’s all those Toronto party girls who like to cause shit and it’s the Instagram model girls who wouldn’t be able to get a contract with any legit agency if their life depended on it, but be the messenger,” Aryne winked, though her voice still strict and curt with them. “I don’t care what you say about me. Call me a bitch on every single bunny blog on the internet – I really don’t care. But anybody who goes after Bee is gong to have a problem with me.”

“Will do,” the brunette smiled, a feisty look in her eyes. “Are any of the younger Leafs single?”

Bee’s eyes went wide at the abrasiveness and audacity of the girl. Her friends slapped at her arm as she was in a staring contest with Aryne. “They’re not into jailbait. But I’m sure you’ll just go and befriend Cassie to see.” Aryne looked at Bee and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go. The period’s about to start and I want to actually watch the game.”

Aryne linked her arm with Bee’s, and when they were far enough away from the washroom, she looked at her. “Don’t ever think that you need to speak to those types of girls ever again,” she warned. “They’re not worth your time. Everything you just said is going to go on all those bunny blogs.”

“You don’t think it will clear stuff up?” Bee asked innocently.

“It never clears stuff up,” Aryne countered. “Rumours are still going to spread about you. Remember when we watched the Isles game at your place and I told you that you have your priorities in order?” she asked. Bee nodded her head. “You still do. But keeping them in order is harder than having them in the first place. And those girls…their only priority is either hooking up with a hockey player or making it seem like they’ve hooked up with one. And if they’re not trying to hook up, they want to make it seem like they’re inside their circle and friends with the wags. They don’t even have morals.”

Bee knew that she needed to listen to Aryne. She didn’t have a clue about any of this and she was so in over her head that she didn’t even know where to begin, what was right and what was wrong, what was appropriate and what was not. It was a mystery to navigate this minefield; every step she took, she felt like she was going to explode, or that she’d set off something that would get the sirens ringing and the armies rushing the battlefield. “Let’s go watch some hockey,” Bee announced, resolved to not giving it another thought. What was more important than what those girls told her was being spread online was that John was on the verge of a hat trick and Morgan was on the verge of approaching seventy points.

“Atta girl,” Aryne wiggled her eyebrows. “Now let’s go watch my hot husband dominate Florida.”

Dominate John did. Only six minutes into the second period, he completed his hat trick thanks to a rebound from a shot by Morgan. It rained hats in the arena as Bee, Alannah, Aryne, and John’s parents danced, cheered, high fived, and hugged each other in celebration, the cameras panning to them and showing them on the jumbotron for the fans to see. The assist by Morgan meant that he was on his 69th point, and Bee wanted so desperately for him to get 70.

Then the magic happened. Only four minutes into the third period, John scored a fourth goal. Aryne went nuts, as did John’s parents, and rightfully so – it was his first four goal game for the Leafs. Barbara even began to cry as the fans kept roaring their applause for their hometown boy. Like a cherry on top of a perfect ice cream sundae of a Monday night, Zach scored the seventh goal for the Leafs, with an assist from Morgan, gaining Zach the distinction of being a 20-goal scorer and getting Morgan to a 70-point season. Bee teared up as she hugged Alannah after the goal. She knew he was having a career season, but he blew his previous points total out of the water – by almost 20 points.

After the game, Bee waited for Morgan in the usual spot, eagerly anticipating his arrival. Media was taking longer than normal – she figured because of the night John had. She checked the usual Twitter accounts for Sportsnet and TSN to see what they were saying and uploading onto their feeds. She checked her Instagram to see more DMs, but only read Angie’s who sent her a compilation video Sportsnet had uploaded of the group celebrating all four goals. Then, for the first time in her life, she Googled ‘puckbunny blogs tumblr’ to see if what those girls were saying – and what Aryne told her – was actually true. Automatically, what seemed like hundreds of links popped up for her to click on, and she clicked the very first. Right at the top of the feed, she saw her name.

I met Bee McTavish (Morgan Rielly) at the Leafs game tonight in the washroom of all places lol. She’s a sweetheart. Super super nice. Doesn’t like that all her photos got posted everywhere bc she is trying to remain super private and says Morgan is super private too. She was in the washroom with Aryne (John Tavares wife) who was much ruder. Oh and she has a Master’s. Never quit her course when she met Morgan. It was all lies ☺ bye!

Aw thanks anon! Good to know! We all knew Morgan would go for someone just like that! It’s too bad a lot of people won’t respect their wishes.

Bee McTavish is bigger in person but pretty. Maybe it was the jersey. Saw her at the Leafs game tonight sitting with Aryne Tavares and John’s parents. Went crazy after Mo got his 70th point. I know Sportsnet showed her a bunch of times but she was on the jumbotron too after John’s fourth goal and it was really cute. Small applause bc the crowd recognized John’s parents and wife.

I guess Mo doesn’t mind her size anon. Thanks for the update! She must be really close with Aryne if she sat with her and John’s parents? Did she know them from before and that’s how she and Mo met?

Bee McTavish is lovely. Everybody needs to get off her dick. If you watch the videos from Sportsnet she’s so genuinely happy for Morgan and the team when they do well. Whenever I see her at games she’s one of like, the only wags – esp the young wags – who is always paying attention to the game instead of being on insta.

Thanks anon! Seems to go with what a lot of ppl are saying.

Those people saying Bee is nice are probably her friends she’s sent to say stuff about her. She’s honestly not that nice. A TOTAL social climber. Pretends to be all cute and innocent but she’s been on the Toronto party scene for a while and was stalking Leaf players before she got with Mo. Rumour has it she slid into Auston’s DMs (what Toronto girl hasn’t lbr) and even Willy Nylander’s before she landed Mo. Shows how much of an idiot she is bc Willy wasn’t even in Toronto till December!!!!!

Wow ok anon thank u!!!

Whoever sent in that last ask is so incredibly dumb lol yeah she’s a known Toronto party girl yet her whole instagram feed when she was public was books, her coursework from her Master’s, and food she’d cook??? Try doing ur research next time sweetie you sound so jealous! Ur probably trying to hook up with Mo even though he’s taken. Just makes u a slut. Not to mention a homewrecker.

I just post all my asks. Not necessarily what I believe.

Bee couldn’t help but snort as she swiped to delete the tab. There was no way she was going down that rabbit hole. She stuffed her phone back into her pocket and waited impatiently for Morgan. When he finally came out, with John, Zach, and Tyler in tow, she couldn’t help the giant smile that appeared on her face as he walked towards her.

“You ready to go?” he said, extending his hand towards hers.

She grasped onto it tightly. “Come here.”

When he was close, she stood on her toes so she could reach him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders before giving him a long, lingering kiss. “You wanna talk about it?” she whispered.

“Talk about what?”

She smiled slightly. “Mr. Seventy-point season.” A smile crept upon his lips as he closed his eyes and shook his head – his version of ‘I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.’ But Bee was going to make a big deal out of this. “I’m very proud of you,” she whispered quietly, so only he could hear. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

Morgan bent down to kiss her again. “That’s all that matters,” he whispered.

“What?”

“That you’re proud.”

“I’m always proud of you.”

“I know you are, but it’s especially important tonight.”

“Because you hit seventy points tonight?” she giggled.

“Stoooooppppp,” Morgan buried his head into the crook of her neck. “Stop saying it.”

“Stop saying what? That you hit seventy points this season?” she smirked, moving away slightly so she could look at him again

“Noooo no no no ,” he shook his head before bending down to kiss her again. “Is that the only way you’re gonna stop saying it?”

“Mhm,” she nodded her head.

“Am I gonna have to kiss you all night?”

“You tell me Mr. Rielly,” she pecked at his lips. “What do you mean ‘it’, anyway? Do you mean the fact that you got sev--”

He kissed her again, dragging her quickly towards the door. “I gotta get you home quick.”

***

“Okay, I can help carry all the garment bags down.”

“I’ll follow behind you with the box of handbags.”

“I’ve got the shoes.”

“Make sure all the books are taken. We may need to take two trips.”

“Naz, you can just sit there and look pretty.”

“HEY!” Naz yelled in protest to Morgan’s comment. John, Jake, Mason, and Tyler laughed at the scowl on Naz’s face as Ashley stuck her tongue out at the boys. “Are we forgetting these guns can b--”

“Do not brag about how much you can bench press right now or else I’m going to punch you in the throat,” Jake grimaced. “Can we just move all this stuff to Morgan’s? Because the quicker we do so the quicker we can eat Chinese food.”

“Yes please, because baby’s hungry,” Aryne rubbed her belly.

The boys grabbed their designated boxes of Bee’s things to bring down the moving elevator, and the girls grabbed the various garment bags and made their way down the main elevator’s to Lucy and Aryne’s waiting SUVs in the parking garage. Once they loaded everything in, Bee and Angie drove with Lucy to Morgan’s apartment, while Ashley hitched a ride with Aryne. The boys ended up taking a second trip up to the apartment to get the remainder of Bee’s things before packing everything into Naz’s SUV and driving to Morgan’s apartment. They were lucky that Bee didn’t have a lot of things, comparably – no furniture to move, no giant ottomans or kitchen tools and accessories to pack away – just her half-bookshelf, taken from her old apartment, with its modest stack of books she’d added to sparingly during her time at Naz and Ashley’s apartment.

When the boys arrived at Morgan’s apartment, the girls were already rearranging the closet to incorporate Bee’s clothing. They shoved all his game-day suits to one side while they hung her work clothes on the top bar and her more casual clothes that still deserved a hanger on the bottom bar. Angie called out to Morgan that it was time to invest in another shoe rack where his Jordan’s collection wouldn’t take it over. Aryne was busy ordering the Chinese food. Ashley rearranged the bathroom drawers so all of Bee’s products could fit. The boys kept Bee’s bookshelf right next to the entertainment centre – he’d be buying bigger bookshelves soon, anyway. They decided to set the table while the girls continued to work on the closet behind the closed bedroom door.

“Did you consent to whatever’s going on in there?” Tyler asked as they all heard a loud thump coming from his bedroom. “They could be painting your room purple for all you know. They could be installing a Habs mural. A giant picture of Randy from Trailer Park Boys on your ceiling.”

Morgan shrugged his shoulders. Jake rolled his eyes. “Even if he didn’t, what’s he gonna say? She could paint the walls neon green and he’d nod and smile and say he loved it,” Jake said.

“Let’s not act like girls don’t run the world,” John commented with a chuckle. “Our wives definitely run our lives.”

“You got that right,” Naz piped up. “The other day Ashley had a craving for anchovies. Anchovies. Guess who had to go out to go buy anchovies at midnight or else her brain was going to explode.”

“That’s why I remain a bachelor,” Tyler said. He turned dramatically towards Mason. “Unless you have a sister?”

“Only a brother, dude.”

“And I reiterate, that’s why I remain a bachelor.”

Morgan’s phone buzzed, indicating that the Chinese food had been delivered. “You girls have three minutes until the food is here!” he yelled as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “Can you be a dear and come help me with the bags?” he asked Jake, who nodded his head. “And can you guys go check on them? Make sure they’re actually not installing a picture of Randy on my ceiling or throwing out any of my clothes?”

When Morgan and Jake came through the door again with the Chinese food, everybody was out in the main area. Aryne was already sitting at the table while everyone else mingled about; Bee was grabbing something out of the fridge – probably a hot sauce – and Tyler and John were leaning up against the couch. Aryne saw them first and she began clapping when she saw the food. “It’s here!”

Everybody gathered around the table quickly. Bee helped herself to too much Cantonese chow mein. Everything was passed around – the chicken balls, the sweet and sour sauce, the chicken fried rice, the plain steamed rice, the spring rolls, the beef with broccoli, the kung pao shrimp and the Szechuan chicken. Everybody’s plate and glass was full of goodness. For a while everyone was even silent because they were stuffing food into their faces. It was Tyler who broke the silence. “Have you guys seen how well the Raptors are doing? Their post-season is gonna be amazing.”

Everybody nodded their heads. “Hopefully ours is gonna be equally as amazing,” Naz commented.

“You think we’ll be able to go to some games?” Aryne asked her husband.

“Aryne, are you aware of who your husband is?” Tyler asked, causing the table to laugh. “He’s John Tavares. He can walk into anywhere and get whatever he wants.”

“Raptors tickets are gonna be the hottest commodity in town if they do well,” Mason commented. “Good luck with that.”

“I’m sure Masai will hook up Kyle with something,” Naz said. “Besides, Bee’s gotta go to her first Raptor’s game.”

The mention of her name gave Bee an opportunity to look at everyone – really look at all the people surrounding her – and she felt a pang of gratitude hit her chest. There was excitement, of course, of moving in with Morgan – of knowing that, when their friends were gone, she wouldn’t have an apartment to go back to; that this was her apartment too now. There was thankfulness, of course, for everyone helping her to move her things, despite how little she had and how quickly it took them to do it – she barely needed to bribe them with a Chinese food dinner before they said yes to helping. But more than anything, gratitude. Gratitude for them surrounding her. Gratitude for their help and support.

Gratitude that they were her family.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly imagines #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #alone together series

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years ago

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CSUAVS prt 42 update

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 6 years ago

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Ballon For Life, Dude. (Dallon Weekes x Reader)

For: @fandom_queen_4life (on Wattpad)

Request: I have a request!! You’re one of the best oneshot writers I’ve seen in forever, so, it would mean a lot if you did this.

Ok, so, it would also be a Dallon x Reader (I’m a little addicted to iDK How currently). So, the scenery might be a bit angsty, and so, I apologize in advance. So, the reader is just chilling with Zack while they waited for the boys to change. But, then they heard arguing. Because Dallon wanted to leave, and Brendon was kinda pleading for his best friend not to. It escalated quickly, and Zack had to break the two up. So, Brallon was done. Dallon actually had a nervous breakdown at home, where the reader was with him and kinda told him that it was gonna be alright and that she was sure that Brendon didn’t hate him. Then, timeskip to when iDKHow formed. When they released 1981 EP, Brendon helped promote it (like the instagram post) and went to Dallon’s to try and make amends. Then, it could end in like, something cute or something-

I dunno, it’s probably a bad scenario, but, it would mean a lot to me nonetheless- Thanks for reading, cause you easily didn’t have to ;)

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

Note: It hurt my heart just reading this prompt, and then writing it was pure heartbreak because I miss Brallon so damn much. Also, this is more a Brallon oneshot than a (Dallon x Reader).

Warning: A. N. G. S. T.

It was normal for there to be noise wherever the Panic! boys were. But said noise was usually a combination of laughter, singing and playful banter – not aggravated yelling. That’s why when the angered words of Brendon and Dallon ricocheted off of the walls all through the hallway of one of the concert venues, you and Zack immediately ended your own conversation and hurried to the room three doors over.

When you reached the dressing room door, you managed to duck down just in time to avoid getting hit in the face by a water bottle, courtesy of Brendon.

“I can’t fucking believe this!” the singer laughed bitterly, focusing his steely gaze on Dallon, “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Your husband scoffed and leaned down a bit. “Really? I’m an asshole? You’re the one who’s too fucking arrogant and self-centred to even let me speak!”

“You’ve already said what you wanted to say, didn’t you?” Brendon shrugged in a mock show of nonchalance, throwing his hands out and arching his brows. “You wanna leave. You’re leaving. Like a fucking traitor.”

You noticed Dallon’s hands twitch slightly. He swallowed hard and when he spoke, his voice had an eerily calm tone to it. It was unsettling.

“I’m a traitor for wanting to try and actually make a name for myself instead of playing second fiddle to you?”

It was Dallon’s turn to laugh now, except his was a real one, because Brendon’s selfishness had left no room for anything other than amusement.

“Wait, I forgot…” Dallon lazily pointed a finger at himself, “I’m supposed to see you as my saviour, right? I should be falling to my knees and worshipping the ground you walk on because you felt charitable enough to allow me to be in your fucking band. And not as a real member, oh no – I would only be awarded the title of ‘touring member’.”

“Fuck you,” Brendon spat, eyes wild as he took a few steps towards the taller human, too pissed off to even think straight, “I gave you countless opportunities to become a full-time member – you’re the one who rejected all of them! And hell yeah you should be thankful to me; I gave you a chance when no one else would, you prick!”

The singer reached out to shove his friend, but Dallon hit his hands away.

“That’s exactly my point, Brendon! I didn’t want to be a full-time member of the band! I wanted to be the lead singer of my own one. That’s all I’ve ever wanted and now I finally have the chance to do that. As my boss, I understand why you’re pissed. I do, I get that. Me leaving is gonna cause one hell of a nightmare.” Dallon’s features softened and the anger drained from his eyes as he slumped his shoulders and looked at Brendon imploringly. “But as my friend…fuck, dude, I thought you’d get it. I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“How the hell can I be happy about the fact that you’re fucking walking out on me?”

Brendon was borderline incensed at this point. He knew that he was offside, and he knew that he was being unforgivingly selfish, but he had been through this exact thing too many times before and every time it happened, it reopened that wound from 2009, and he was left being infected with the same pain over and over again.

His anger was really just a desperate attempt to prevent his best friend from leaving him – just like all the others did – and he prayed that Dallon would read between the lines.

Unfortunately, Dallon was too far-gone to even think of it.

“Why is me leaving to start my own career suddenly such a big taboo, huh?” Dallon huffed impatiently, running his tongue over his teeth. “The others-“

“Exactly my fucking point!” Brendon growled, pulling at his hair frustratedly before jabbing a finger in Dallon’s chest, his breathing growing ragged. “Ryan, Jon, Spencer – they all fucking left me! You-you’re all I have left, damn it!”

Brendon had grabbed hold of Dallon by the front collar of his suit jacket, catching the taller man by surprise. Before the bassist could react, you and Zack rushed forward and separated them.

Zack pulled Brendon back and dragged him to the other side of the room, speaking softly and trying to calm him down while you began leading Dallon out of the room.

“Yeah,” Brendon shouted after the two of you, voice cracking from the strain of all of the emotion, as he struggled against Zack’s vice grip, “yeah, that’s right. Leave! Fucking leave just like the rest of them!”

You’d known Dallon for ten years, and you’d been married to him for five out of those ten, but you had never seen him more broken than the night of his and Brendon’s argument.

The moment the two of you crossed the threshold into your home, your husband broke down. He collapsed into your arms almost instantaneously, sobbing into your shoulder and trying but failing to stop the tremor that was wrecking his body.

All you could do was hold him and comfort him as best you could, shushing him and rubbing up and down his back the way you always did when he was feeling troublesome. Tonight, though, you didn’t seem to be enough, because a half hour later, his sobs were yet to subside.

“Shh, honey,” you tried again, pulling him closer into your embrace and pressing your lips to his head.

“He hates me,” Dallon finally managed to choke out. The clear devastation and heartbreak in his voice broke your heart. “He fucking hates me, (Y/N).”

“Baby, he doesn’t-“

“I didn’t wanna lose him, (Y/N). I-I didn’t. That was the last thing I ever wanted.”

“I know. Hey,” you mumbled, pulling back a little so that you could wipe away the tears free-falling down his angelic face, which was now blotched from all the crying, “He doesn’t hate you, okay? I promise you that. You guys’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Your promise was seemingly failing to ring true, however. Because almost a year after Dallon officially departed from Panic!, he and Brendon were yet to have a proper reconciliation.

The few times they were forced to interact were during meetings with the label or management team, and they were civil – not more than that. You could see it eating away at Dallon, tearing him apart from the inside, but he never brought it up, so you refrained from asking about it for fear of causing an argument.

The fans were understandably shattered over the news of the bassist’s departure, but for the most part they were nothing but supportive and loving, something which you were incredibly thankful for; Dallon needed it now more than ever.

The two men were not the only ones feeling the effects of the rift between them; it was affecting you greatly. Besides the fact that Dallon was your husband and his pain was your pain and all of that, you too were suffering from Brendon-withdrawal symptoms.

You and him had formed a close bond over the years, and you loved him like a brother. So you too were beginning to become increasingly miserable at the lack of Brendon in your life.

That’s why when you saw the post made by the Panic! accounts on Twitter and Instagram, you were understandably ecstatic. You shot up straight on the couch as your eyes took in the picture, and the booming sound of Dallon running down the stairs told you that he had seen it, too.

“(Y/N)!” he wheezed breathlessly, skidding to a halt at the end of the couch.

You nodded briskly, eyes still glued to the screen. “I know.”

Before either of you could say anything more, the doorbell rang.

“You get it,” Dallon waved it off, rushing over to the armchair, “I need to- need to reply to this or… something.”

You did as he said and went to answer the door, eyes widening once you saw who your guest was.

“Uh… Dall?”

“I can’t come to the door, (Y/N)!” he insisted urgently, gnawing on his bottom lip as he hovered his fingers over his cell, “I have to message Brendon! Shit, what do I say? Maybe I should just call him. Should I? Should I call him?”

“I… don’t think that will be necessary,” you half-smiled, ushering Brendon inside.

Dallon turned to you with a frown, mouth open as he prepared to argue with you. His words caught in his throat when he saw Brendon standing next to you.

The musicians stared at each other for a little while, while you stood to the side with an expectant look on your face. You were about to yell at them to communicate, damn it, when both of them started rushing towards each other.

You gasped and reached forward, preparing to pull them apart but recoiled in a mixture of surprise and elatedness as they threw their arms around each other in a massive hug.

“I’m so sorry,” Brendon apologised.

“Me too,” Dallon agreed.

They pulled apart and shared a laugh. Dallon lightly punched Brendon in his shoulder. “I missed you, dude,” he admitted.

“Yeah,” Brendon breathed with a nod. “Look, Dall, I acted like a complete dick. There’s no excuse for my behaviour. I was just- I was scared, alright? After everything that’s happened, I couldn’t handle the thought of not having you around. I mean, you’ve been a part of Panic! for longer than any of the other original members have; you’ve been my road-wife for the better part of a decade.” He blinked back tears. “Hey, I’m really happy for you; you’re one of the most talented motherfuckers I’ve ever met, and I’m super hyped that you’ll finally get to live your dream. The only reason I lashed out was ‘cause I’m gonna miss you a fuck ton.”

“Dude,” Dallon replied softly, breathing out too, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You think leaving was fun for me? ‘Cause it most definitely wasn’t – especially with the way it went down. And I’m sorry, too, for what I said – I really am grateful for what you did for me; that shit was unreal, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. But yeah, man, I’m just stoked to get working on my own shit. It’s been a long time coming.”

Brendon nodded in understanding and closed his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, he smiled at Dallon and opened his arms, cocking an eyebrow.

“As long as we can reinstate our monthly laser tag dates from here on out, I’m good. We good?”

Dallon laughed and gave an eager nod. “Brallon for life, dude.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Taglist:

@darknessdancing

@raversam

@username-number-01834

@moosesmoose

@underscoredarcy

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piquira · 7 years ago

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“I doubted I'd ever sing again”

In Hamburg showed the 41-year-old looking overwhelmed, clasping her hands to her chest as she acknowledged her long journey back to health.

"Last year was one of the most difficult times of my entire life," she tells the BBC from Amsterdam. "Being back on stage has been so emotional."

With the tour hitting London next week, the Colombian star took time out from her schedule to chat about how she's stopped being narcissistic - and whether she understands the offside rule.

Hi Shakira, how are you?

I just woke up, can you believe it?! My kids are not with me so I'm allowed to sleep. I think the last time I slept this much was six years ago, before I had my first child.

How's the tour going so far?

It feels like the first time. In the past, my experience on stage was a little different. A little more narcissistic. I was like, "Oh wow, they're here for me - I'd better look good and sound good."

But now it's more like, "Man, I have this amazing opportunity to make the crowd smile. To make all those people, who've also had hardship in their own lives, happy."

You had to postpone the tour because of a vocal haemorrhage. How bad was it?

It was actually more than a haemorrhage. It was like a vascular lesion. So you can imagine, there were times when I doubted I would ever be in front of a crowd again singing my songs.

Did you need surgery?

Miraculously, and contrary to everything the doctors predicted, I recovered naturally. They all foresaw surgery, but the lesion disappeared completely from my vocal cords.

That really is a miracle.

I remember praying. I had forgotten to pray for a while, but when you go through hardship you suddenly recover your faith! I was promising God if I could ever use my voice again, I would celebrate every night - and that's what I'm doing.

You've just released a single, Clandestino, which is your third duet with fellow Colombian star Maluma. What keeps you coming back for more?

I promise you, we try not to make new music, but it happens! We just can't help it.

He came to Barcelona for a photo session so I said to him, "Listen, why don't we get together in the studio and see what happens?" And in less than two hours we had two new songs.

But this one was the one. I was like, "Oh my God, this is it! This is as good as [2016 song] Chantaje!" And those are major words.

Because Chantaje spent 18 weeks at number one in Colombia, right?

Exactly. And it did like two billion views on YouTube. Crazy, crazy, unexpected numbers.

Latin music is having a resurgence. Do you think it's here to stay, or could it fade like the Latin explosion of the 1990s?

It depends on the artist. I think some artists are meant to stay and some will disappear. It always happens. It's natural selection of the species.

But I don't think of it as a boom in Latin music. I think the world is in a different place. Social media means it's not only the radio that decides what'll be a hit. It's the people.

You once sang "I don't understand football" [on 1998's Inevitable]. Presumably that changed when you met your husband?

A little! I still get confused with offsides, though. Can you believe? Almost eight years with Gerard and I still don't see the offsides quite well.

But everything else I understand. And I sometimes dare to give my opinion! Gerard thinks it's very cute.

He's about to head off to Russia for the World Cup. Will you see any of the matches?

I have tour dates up until 13 July, so if Spain makes it to the final I will have the opportunity to go. So they have to make it!

He made it to the final in 2010...

Exactly! He told me that year, "Listen, I'm going to win this World Cup. I'm going to get to the final just so I can see you one more time." And he did it. He's a man that keeps his word.

Last year, Fortune Magazine named you one of the world's Top 50 leaders for your charity work. How important is that to you?

I have a huge commitment with education. It's a commitment that started [when] I was 18 and I decided to create my own foundation to build schools in remote places in Colombia. That commitment obviously goes beyond anything that appears in a magazine. It's something that lives and breathes in my heart.

Why education in particular?

I come from the developing world and that has marked me in so many ways. I was born and raised in a country where there's huge social injustice and poverty and a lack of opportunities. So I feel education is the great transformational agent - the one thing that can change the fate of so many kids who are born poor and who, without the opportunity of an education, would probably die poor.

The one thing that can really break that cycle of poverty and bring new opportunities is education. I've seen it with my own eyes. I've seen the transformation in families and entire communities when you bring a school to an area where there was nothing before.

You've sat down with people like President Obama and President Santos of Colombia. Do they ever underestimate how informed you are about these issues?

I think they're used to me by now! Bono once called me and said I'm the most vehement woman he'd ever met. I'm quite stubborn and every time I get the chance, I'm giving those [world leaders] a call and asking them to participate in projects.

Who's most nervous in those meetings? Them or you?

I don't know! I really don't have an answer for that. But I'm not nervous any more, because I know exactly what I need out of these meetings.

Some politicians just want a photo op, but we're asking for real things and a real commitment. It's a huge responsibility to put pressure on our leaders to do their job.

And they don't get the photo op unless they deliver, correct?

Exactly! That's the carrot.

I read that when you wrote your first English language album [2001's Laundry Service] you studied Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan's lyrics. Who do you look up to now?

I love [Coldplay's] Chris Martin. I love his melodies and his production. He's an artist with vision, which you don't find every day. And that's why he's lasted so long, him and his band. They never disappoint.

And I'll tell you something: he was so, so nice throughout those difficult months. He worried a lot about my voice, and he checked in on me every other day.

It's great when friends come through in a crisis…

That is one of the nicest things I realised through my hardship - how important it is to have friends. And also my fans. They were praying every day in Colombia. They did Mass for me. I had groups of nuns and priests and all sorts of people praying for my voice every day. I didn't know that I was loved like this.

When you're an artist you usually feel that people, in a way, use you. You're giving them what you want. But I think the relationship that has built with my fans over the years is a lot deeper than that. It makes me feel really valued and loved and that's why I'm enjoying this new chapter of my life.

#very good interview #worth the whole read tbh #shakira #interview #el dorado world tour

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aftgficlibrary · 7 years ago

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Andreil Starter Pack

For anyone new to aftg, wanting to revisit the classics, or have just missed them, this is a collection of completed fics that have gained high praise.

Lessons in Cartography by crazy_like_a (E | 121,706)

Nora mentioned in her extra content that Neil slowly maps out Andrew's body and then this fic happened. Starts after The King's Men.

a switchblade is my preferred weapon by badacts (M | 150,134)

The Foxes take on an injured Kevin Day, and get a Raven-trained backliner with a point to prove into the bargain.

/Graphic Depictions Of Violence /Rape/Non-Con

Way Down We Go by nekojita (E | 620,923)

How would things be different if Nathaniel and his mother had been in Seattle early enough to put him in California the same time as Andrew? What if their paths had crossed back then? What if Andrew's first promise wasn't to Aaron but to Nathaniel?

/Graphic Depictions Of Violence /Rape/Non-Con

fear in a handful of dust by flybbfly (M | 104,521)

“I need to talk to Minyard,” Neil says, sipping at a soda. “How do I make that happen?”

Kevin chokes on his whiskey. “You don't.”

In which Neil doesn't have Kevin Day to convince him to play, so he becomes a sports journalist; Andrew is a keeper in more ways than one; and Quidditch is the sport du jour. Featuring a frankensteined team, eternal roommate Matt, and hawkish sports section editor Dan. Oh, and Andrew has a shady past (present? future?) that Neil can't quite figure out. But that's nothing new for Neil, who is constantly hiding everything about himself anyway—this time with magical abilities greasing the way.

we might be hollow (but we're brave) by stttmsbwa (M | 40,681)

Andrew is looking to live his life in peaceful nothingness, but his new neighbor's cat won't stop sneaking onto his balcony. As much as he tries to not make it into something, Andrew finds himself drawn to the mysterious and tempting man next door.

Neil is just trying to find a reason to not leave Palmetto after everyone else has moved on. But he never thought he would want to run toward something in favor of running away.

(In a slightly different world, two people find themselves meeting in a softer setting and in just as much need of each other. A story about dealing with pasts, sharing secrets and a cat who is an asshole yet manages to charm everyone around it.)

be neither fish nor fowl by Saul (T | 26,363)

They found it in the locked room of a Royal Navy's vessel, The Fox waiting to take her crew and their new spoils across the deep blue.

It was beautiful. It was rarer than any diamond.

“A mermaid,” Dan laughed, taking a step back and sweeping her hat off her head to hold to her chest. “They were transporting a mermaid.”

It was going to make them rich.

( wherein the Foxes are pirates, Neil has gills, and no one quite trusts the magic. )

And We'll Be Running by allyasavedtheday (M | 62, 270)

It had been six months ago when Kevin called him, sounding drunk off his ass and on the verge of a breakdown, begging Neil for help. Andrew Minyard, guitarist for The Monsters, had been assaulted by his old foster brother and it finally convinced the courts to take him off the mood altering medication he’d been taking since almost two years prior after an incident where he’d defended his cousin from a bunch of homophobic assholes outside a club.

At the time, he’d had nothing else going for him so he said yes. It was just meant to be something to do for a few months. Now, well, he doesn’t really want to leave.

please tell me it's just the fandom freaking out by OneSweetMelody (T | 16, 573)

And finally, the Minyard/Josten Rivalry as told through social media. __

Neil Josten @neiljos10 Sadly @ajminyard isn’t too excited about that face off

Neil Josten @neiljos10 Maybe @ajminyard will learn how to block an offside bouncer before then. Or any shot.

never, never by pentagrammed (M | 4,026)

"Never have I ever wanted to kiss Neil."

time will tell by Saul (G | 8, 124)

“He’s not all that different. A little less mouthy, a little more short, still constantly wanting to play Exy… Aside from the occasional question about you-know-who, he’s basically the same.”

“We are not keeping him like this.”

“Aw, please? He's so cute even when he's jumping on the couch at five in the morning."

( in which the Foxes become parents too young, and Neil is truly just fine. )

Carry You (or, alternately, The Fic Where Andrew is Bigger Than Everyone Else) by nekojita for iMOCKusALL (M | 12,437)

It's the well known fairy tale with the lovely princess trapped in the lair by the evil dragon, and the brave knights who risk their lives to save her on the behest of her beloved prince.

Except the dragon isn't quite so evil as it's cursed, the lovely princess is a bit tattered and actually a prince (well, engaged to a prince he's having none of) and a runaway, and not too bad at looking after himself. The lair is a rundown castle, most of the knights aren't that brave (there's a few exceptions), and the beloved prince is is anything but beloved.

In other words, Neil and Andrew and a few other Foxes in a magical world, dealing with magic and a stubborn curse.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg fanfiction #andreil #andriel fanfic #andriel fanfiction #andrewminyard #andreil fanfic #andreil fanfiction #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftgfl starter pack #theme:andreil

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junker-town · 4 years ago

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The European Super League’s 48-hour lifespan, explained

Photo by Charlotte Wilson/Offside/Offside via Getty Images

Answering your biggest questions about the short-lived Super League.

Over the course of about 48 hours, the world of European soccer went through an absolute roller-coaster. On Sunday, plans were revealed that 12 of the richest clubs were breaking off to form their own Super League with the idea of supplanting UEFA’s Champions League as the preeminent club tournament in the world. By Tuesday afternoon, the plan was in tatters with at least half the teams disavowing involvement and several others ready to drop out. On Wednesday — with just four teams not officially pulling out — Juventus chairman and founder of the Super League Andrea Agnelli confirmed the obvious: the Super League was at least temporarily dead.

There’s a lot of ins and outs. But in the hope of helping a non-soccer fan better understand what happened, SB Nation’s hockey editor Steph Driver interviewed soccer editor Jeremiah Oshan. This is their conversation:

Steph: My understanding of the Super League is that all of the big teams decided to break off and start their own league for their own competition, is that right?

Jeremiah: That’s basically the gist of it, at least most of the world’s biggest clubs agreed to do it anyway. That’s the so-called “Big Six” in England (Arsenal, Chelsea Liverpool, Manchester City, Manchester United, Tottenham), the three biggest clubs in Spain (Atletico Madrid, Barcelona and Real Madrid) and the three biggest clubs in Italy (AC Milan, Inter Milan and Juventus). There were supposed to be three more “founding” members that had not yet been named and then five more rotating clubs. In hindsight, those three missing teams should have been a pretty big red flag but it now all seems a bit moot now.

Steph: And this made Big Soccer big mad?

Jeremiah: In a word, yes. In many words, very, very, very, very, very mad. Basically, the whole of the soccer world — with a few notable exceptions — lost their collective minds over this. We’re talking fans of the teams who broke away, fans of like literally every other team, players of all stripes, heck even some of the coaches and players of these teams — guys whose livelihoods depend on being employed by one of these same teams — were less than enthusiastic about it.

Steph: Hold on, it wasn’t just fans and players that weren’t included in the Super League that were mad at being excluded, it was everyone?

Jeremiah: I’ve been working in soccer media for over a decade and can say without a doubt that I’ve never seen the soccer world agree on anything quite like they agreed that this was literally the worst idea that someone had ever come up with (which sounds hyperbolic, but I think accurately articulates the tone of the collective reaction). When I say, “everyone” was against this, I should mention that AMAZON!!! Released a statement that basically said “Look, we love money but this is crazy.”

Steph: That’s incredible, I love when people get collectively angry at a thing. From what I saw, the soccer officiating bodies all said no thank you and started announcing plans to exclude the teams and players from big events?

Jeremiah: That part was more expected. This was a plan explicitly hatched to cut out many of those organizations, after all. I think the Super League folks planned for that, in fact, and figured that even if UEFA and FIFA went through with the nuclear options of expelling them from the current Champions League and banning the players from events like the World Cup that ultimately money would smooth everything over and they’d still have a product so popular that they’d be able to print money off of it. What they didn’t anticipate was the groundswell of outright hatred for the idea.

Steph: At the end of the day, was this all about money?

Jeremiah: Oh, undeniably yes. The powers can talk about how this was a necessity born out of Covid-19 or, more cynically, an acknowledgement of the soccer world order as it is, but this was from beginning to end a decision born and fueled by the desire to consolidate money into as few teams as humanly possible.

Steph: What happened Tuesday? I went out to get Taco Bell for lunch and by the time I was in front of a computer again, the whole thing was dead.

Jeremiah: I’ll be completely honest: I did not foresee such a swift reversal but it does now look like the Super League is dead. Led by Manchester City — a team effectively owned by the United Arab Emirates — all six Premier League teams have now pulled out. Manchester United’s chairman has apparently resigned over this fiasco and their owners — the Glazers of NFL fame — are saying they might sell. Barcelona is now claiming they’ll only join if their fans sign off on it. Basically, it appears as though everyone is having second thoughts as it becomes apparent that this might not be the wildly popular league they need it to be in order to make the Money Printer go Brrrr.

Steph: How did the talks get this far without anyone either finding out or anticipating this type of reaction?

Jeremiah: I suspect that JP Morgan’s willingness to kick in $4 billion to this venture was what convinced them it was an idea worth trying over any objections. But beyond that, wealth has a way of creating quite a bubble. While the league’s announcement did come as a bit of a shock, the idea has been swimming around forever and it’s unpopularity should have never surprised anyone. But these are people who don’t hang out on Twitter or fan forums and probably don’t even pay attention to the punditry. They are not the class of people who are used to anyone telling them that their ideas are bad and certainly aren’t inclined to listen to what fans might want. I think this was soccer’s “Let them eat cake” moment and it could well result in a similar outcome, narratively speaking.

Steph: What’s next? Do you think they’ll try again?

Jeremiah: That’s definitely a big and interesting question. There’s a lot of talk of punishing these teams regardless. Maybe that means docking them points or kicking them out of European competitions or, heck, maybe even relegating them to lower divisions. I tend to think most of that is somewhat counter-productive since it mostly hurts fans and players, two groups who actually seem to have helped keep this from happening. We might see a bunch of the owners or leaders of these organization sell, resign or get fired — and it looks like we’re already seeing that — which probably gets us closer to a resolution most soccer fans actually want.

But will any of this stop future billionaire owners from trying something similar? I doubt it.

Steph: Do you think any of these ideas will have a ripple effect across other sports or other leagues?

Jeremiah: Somewhat ironically, the Super League is broadly modeled on a more American vision of sport where you have teams who don’t move up and down between divisions. So, in a sense we already see this model at work in places like the NFL and NBA. I suppose it’s good for sports teams owners to be reminded that their investments are only as valuable as the people consuming their product allow them to be, but I don’t have much hope of some sort of grand awakening or anything. Even before the Super League imploded, UEFA announced changes to the Champions League that gives big teams even more sway and was probably designed to keep this from happening.

This proposal failed in part because it was so brazen. I’m sure some future owners will try something similar but maybe a bit more plausibly equitable. Money, as they say, always finds a way.

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weeklyhumorist · 4 years ago

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An Oral History Of The Time Dylan Miller Ate Nine Deli Sandwiches

Dylan Miller: I just remember sitting in pre-calc that morning and thinking about how long it had been since I’d had a deli sandwich and how good one sounded.

Chase Roberts (Friend): Dylan would not stop talking about sandwiches that whole day. At first I didn’t mind it because I like the deli too, but after a while it started to get kind of annoying.

Rebecca Johnson (Dylan’s then Girlfriend): Dylan always seemed more interested in sandwiches than me.

Dylan Miller: I was definitely more interested in sandwiches than Rebecca. We were not a good match.

Tom DeLodge (Head Coach of the Clifton Lake Football Team): Dylan was one of the better players on our team that year. He came up big for us on several occasions, but that day at practice, he was just really out of it. He seemed distracted.

Blaise Roberts (Linebackers Coach at Clifton Lake): He definitely wasn’t himself that day. He was jumping offsides, missing tackles, just not the usual energy he brought. When I called him on it, he just kind of shrugged.

Dylan Miller: I couldn’t stop thinking about deli sandwiches.

Richie “Moose” McKinley (Dylan’s Friend and Teammate): Dylan was my ride home from practice most days because we lived on the same street. That day when we got to the car he asked me if I cared if we made a quick stop on the way home. I told him I didn’t.

Tawny Schultz (Former Cashier at Dom’s Deli): It was only my second day on the job, so I was relatively new to the whole thing. When I saw the two guys walk in, I didn’t think much of it. My shift was about to end and then my boyfriend and I were going to see Rush Hour 3.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: When Dylan pulled into Dom’s, I was actually pretty glad because I was hungry and my mom had mentioned that morning that she was going to make goulash for dinner. I love my mom, but her goulash is terrible.

Tawny Schultz: So these sweaty dudes walk in and the first guy comes up and orders something regular. I think it was a turkey club or something.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: I was going through a pretty big turkey phase around that time.

Tawny Schultz: Then this other guy steps up and he just had this kind of crazed look on his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He just stood there and stared at the menu for a really long time.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: He probably studied that menu for a good three minutes, which doesn’t sound like a long time, but it was.

Dylan Miller: Three minutes seems like a stretch, but it could have been.

Tawny Schultz: He finally clears his throat and orders. At first I didn’t think I heard him right because who in their right mind would order what he ordered. So I ask him to repeat it, but then he says it again, even louder. It was unmistakable.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: Nine deli sandwiches.

Tawny Schultz: He said he wanted nine deli sandwiches.

Dylan Miller: I ordered nine sandwiches.

Melinda Schoolcraft (Postal worker who was in line behind Dylan): At first I thought he said five sandwiches, which seemed like a lot, but then he said nine and I was just really floored.

Tawny Schultz: When I asked him what nine sandwiches he wanted, he just kind of shook his head. I guess he didn’t really care.

Todd Bricklin (Dom’s Cook): I prepped all nine of them. I don’t really remember much more than that. I’ve made a lot of sandwiches at Dom’s.

Tawny Schultz: When the order came out, the sandwiches were so heavy that the plastic tray started to bend. I had to double up on trays. I’ll never forget that. Two trays!

Melinda Schoolcraft: The kid has all these sandwiches and he’s slowly making his way towards a booth in the corner. That’s when I noticed he already had one of them almost completely finished. Think it was ham and cheese.

Dylan Miller: I couldn’t wait another second.

Tawny Schultz: He plopped down in a corner booth and just went to town. He had three sandwiches down in about 90 seconds.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: A crowd started to gather around our booth.

Melinda Schoolcraft: You’re damn right I watched! Better than anything I’ve ever seen on pay per view.

Dale Richards (Assistant Manager at Dom’s Deli): After hearing from Tawny what was happening, little by little we all left the kitchen and headed into the dining area to watch. We don’t get a lot of excitement at Dom’s. This was just too good to pass up.

Tawny Schultz: When my boyfriend came to pick me up, I told him he needed to come inside.

Dontrelle Waters (Tawny’s then Boyfriend): When Tawny told me to come inside, I was really confused. Her text didn’t make much sense. But in the end, I was glad I saw it go down.

Dylan Miller: I remember getting through the first six sandwiches without much trouble.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: Dylan didn’t say a word the entire meal, which was okay because his mouth was full the entire time.

Tawny Schultz: There must have been about a dozen people watching it go down.

Melinda Schoolcraft: 12 feels low. I think there might have been closer to 20.

Dylan Miller: I was only vaguely aware of the audience.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: By the time he had the ninth one in his hand, we were all chanting “DYLAN” “DYLAN.”

Dontrelle Waters: I thought we were yelling “FILL HIM.”

Tawny Schultz: I think I was chanting “DYLAN” and “FILL HIM.”

Dylan Miller: The ninth one was tough, but I wasn’t going to stop. I knew I’d regret it if I did.

Tawny Schultz: The ninth sandwich seemed to genuinely pain him. It was an Italian sub loaded with capicola.

Dontrelle Waters: More capicola on that sandwich than you’ve ever seen in your life.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: When he took that last bite, I think we all let out a sigh of relief.

Melinda Schoolcraft: It was both an honor and a privilege.

Dr. Matthew Thompson (Pediatrician and patron of Dom’s Deli): I finished my meal and left just as those boys were walking in. When I later heard about what had happened, I was devastated to have missed out. Devastated.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: We all felt like we were a part of something special that day.

Tawny Schultz: We ended up missing Rush Hour 3, so we had to see Daddy Day Camp instead. It was just okay.

Dontrelle Waters: Daddy Day Camp was bad.

Tawny Schultz: I quit the next day. There was no way anything was ever going to top that.

Dylan Miller: When I finished, I felt invincible. All of those people chanting my name and congratulating me. Of course, all of that ended when I puked all over myself on the drive home.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: He threw up a lot on that drive home, but I’d say it was worth it.

Dylan Miller: It was definitely not worth it. I wasn’t right for weeks after that. I ended up having to see a Gastroenterologist and missed Homecoming.

Rebecca Johnson: Yeah, we missed the Homecoming Dance. Vintage Dylan.

Tom DeLodge: We lost the football game 45-10. We could have used Dylan that day.

Angela Miller (Dylan’s Mother): Dylan was always a very sweet boy, but there were times when he seemed to lack much common sense. The deli sandwich ordeal was really frustrating as a parent. I remember asking him why he ate so many? He didn’t seem to really know. I think he got caught up in the moment.

Richie “Moose” McKinley: Sill the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.

Tawny Schultz: A legend.

Melinda Schoolcraft: That kid was the genuine article.

Dontrelle Waters: You gotta tip your hat to him.

Dylan Miller: I haven’t been to a Dom’s since. It’s just…it’s hard to describe. I don’t know, maybe Thomas Wolfe was right when he said “You can’t go home again.”

An Oral History Of The Time Dylan Miller Ate Nine Deli Sandwiches was originally published on Weekly Humorist

#eating #funny #humor #oral history #sandwiches #story

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spine-buster · 6 years ago

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Alone, Together | Chapter 7 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: As always, thank you again for your lovely messages. Y’all are the best :)

“Where are you?” Bee asked into the phone worriedly as she looked up, trying to find the address of the building she was standing in front of.

“You have to come in through the 50 Bay Street entrance,” Ashley Kadri’s voice said calmly on the other end. “50 Bay Street. You’re on Bay Street, right?”

“Y-Yes…” Bee broke out into a jog, noticing she was still at The Design Exchange on 234 Bay Street. She cursed the student that stayed an extra fifteen minutes after tutorial to bombard her with questions. This wasn’t helping the time anxiety she had. “God, am I going to be late?”

“Bee, it’s six. The game doesn’t start until 7. Where are you?”

“I just passed the Design Exchange.”

“Oh my God girl, you’ll be fine,” Ashley assured her, a slight giggle in her voice. “If you’re late I’ll ask them to delay the game until you get here.”

Bee couldn’t help but snort. “Am I the worst person ever? I promised Morgan I’d see him before the game.”

“You are the farthest thing from the worst person ever,” Ashley assured her. “They haven’t even started their skate yet. You’re going to be fine. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“What do you want to order?”

Bee was slightly thankful that there was a red light so she could stop running. She definitely wasn’t a runner. “Um, I think I’ll be okay.”

“I can get you a burger?”

“I’m – I’ll be okay.” The light turned green. Again, running.

“I’m ordering you a burger,” Ashley said. “A bacon cheeseburger. The fries here are so good and – wait, Bee, are you running?”

“Yes,” she huffed, trying to weave her way through people. “I just don’t want to be late.”

“You’re going to be fine, Bee. Take your time. I’ll see you soon.”

Bee was flattered when Morgan had invited her to come to one of the pre-season games to watch him play. She had never been to a hockey game before. She had never been inside of the Air Canada Centre – or Scotiabank Arena, whatever. She was a Toronto kid – it was always going to be the ACC to her. When she accepted his invitation, it wasn’t even an hour later when Ashley somehow got hold of her number and called her, excited that she would be there. “You’re going to be able to meet everyone!” Ashley had told her excitedly. Bee was too scared to ask whether she was talking about other wives or girlfriends or members of the team.

She tried to swallow whatever anxiety she had about it when she entered the giant glass doors at 50 Bay Street. Just as Morgan promised, there was a woman there behind a podium, a short hallway and one black closed door behind her. Her sleek, blonde ponytail fell long against her back. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“Uh, hi, yes,” Bee tried to catch her breath. “Um, I’m here for the hockey game.”

“This is the member’s club entrance, miss,” she said. Bee noticed she gave her a quick up-down, her eyes staying on Bee’s messenger bag for a bit longer. “You’ll have to look at your ticket to see what gate you need to enter.”

Morgan had given her some sort of Platinum Club pass thing – something special guests of the players could flash to get in, he said. Bee remembered she had stuffed it into her bag before she left for class. “I have this,” she said as she fished around for it, finally finding it amongst her notebooks and pencil case.

Bee handed the pass to the woman, who looked at it carefully. “Where did you find this?” she asked.

Bee furrowed her eyebrows. What was she insinuating? “It was given to me,” she said sceptically, wondering what this woman was assuming. “I mean, I can give you my name if you want? If there’s a list or something? It’s Briony McTavish.”

“I’m going to need to see a piece of photo ID.”

Bee gulped. She didn’t have a driver’s licence. And she didn’t bring her passport. “Um…I don’t…I don’t…”

“If you don’t have ID there’s no way I can verify you are who you say you are,” the woman said sternly.

“I mean I…” Briony was at a loss for words. “Morgan Rielly gave me that pass. He gave it to me.”

“Miss --”

“I can call my friend Ashley Ka--”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you --”

As if on cue, like a guardian angel, the black door from behind the woman opened, and the first thing Bee noticed was Ashley’s long brown hair curled perfectly, not a strand out of place. “Hey Gina, did my friend Briony come in ye – Briony!” she exclaimed, running up from behind Gina to give her a hug. “Gina, this is Bee – she’s with Morgan,” she said quickly to Gina. She turned her head back towards Bee and smiled. “Your burger is waiting. It’s so good to see you again!”

Ashley dragged her by the hand towards the door, and Bee gave one more look to Gina, who kept her eye on her, before disappearing beyond the door. Once she was in, Bee could immediately feel the size of the building, how big and multilayered and complex it was. Ashley seemed to know exactly where she was going. She led Bee through a bunch of doorways. They finally arrived at what seemed like a lounge area for friends and family. A few people were already inside, eating some food and talking amongst one another. Bee imagined the older people were parents of the players.

“Your burger is right over here,” Ashley said, leading her towards a table. “After you eat we’ll go pick up your jersey. Morgan told me he left you one to wear during the game.”

“Am I going to be able to see Morgan?” Bee asked quickly at the mention of his name.

Ashley gave her a look. “Not before he goes out onto the ice, no,” she said. “We can go down to ice level when they do their pre-game skate though. Have you ever been to a game before?” she asked. Bee shook her head. “Not even as a fan?”

“No,” Bee shook her head again. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever even watched a full game of hockey before.”

Ashley’s eyes widened at the revelation. “Okay. This is my time to shine,” she said to herself, pushing her hair behind her ears. “I’m gonna give you a crash course. Ashley Kadri’s What I’ve Learned About Hockey,” she announced. “I may be wrong about some things…most likely about the icing rule and the offside rule, but…whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “You can eat and learn, right? I mean you’re a Master’s student.”

Bee giggled as she nodded her head. She was in for it.

Bee liked how she blended in amongst the sea of fans that had arrived early to watch the team practice and skate before the game began. Even with her newly acquired Rielly jersey, she felt like she was amongst a sea of Leafs fans. The young ones had their faces pressed up against the glass, following their favourite player’s movements. Others were cheering and waving, taking pictures on their phones. Some even had signs asking for pucks and sticks. She stood with Ashley about seven rows up, watching as the team practiced shooting the puck into the net and did various stretches.

Morgan saw her almost the second she got within visual distance, as if he had been looking for her. He waved slightly and she waved back – that small action was enough to garner a smile on his face as he began to skate around with Matthews. Ashley blew a kiss at her own husband as Bee watched Morgan skate gracefully around the ice. He really looked at home out there, and despite the mass of people filing into the arena, she felt a sense of calmness watching him.

“Some of the girls are here,” Ashley said as she looked up on her phone. “We should go meet up with them and then we can go to our seats.”

“Where am I sitting?” Bee asked.

Ashley looked at her as if she had two heads. “You’re sitting with the rest of us, Bee. In the family section,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. A flash of concern washed across her face briefly before she continued. “Bee…you know, like…I mean, is this all new to you?”

“Yeah. I’ve told you I’ve never been to a hockey game before.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Ashley shook her head. She wasn’t stupid. She had picked up on the cues – not just tonight, but from the night when they all went out as well. She obviously did not want to say anything then, and she wasn’t going to ask Nazem or Morgan about it, so she had to figure it out on her own. “I mean, like, all this,” she motioned to everything around her. Hockey. The arena. Her impeccably styled hair. Her fashionable designer handbag hung across her body. “Is this all new to you?”

Bee stiffened. Was it that obvious? Did she really stick out like a sore thumb? She knew she didn’t act like Ashley around the arena – all confidence and smiles and greeting practically everyone by name. And she knew she didn’t look like her – styled to perfection, glossy lips and winged liner. But was it that bad? Did she really not fit in? “Y…Yeah,” she finally admitted, her voice soft. There was no point in denying it. She would only be digging a bigger hole for herself. “I’m just…definitely not used to this.”

“I don’t want you thinking you’re an outsider or anything,” Ashley said immediately. “I don’t want you thinking you don’t belong. Just because it’s new to you, or you’re not used to it…I mean we were all not used to it. You belong just as much as anyone else. You don’t have to feel uncomfortable or think anything, like…bad.”

“It’s just hard because I don’t know what to expect,” Bee admitted. “Everything feels so new. I’m not used to the free stuff. I’m not used to much, to be quite honest.”

“Do you mind me asking why not?” Ashley was apprehensive.

“I grew up really poor and with an alcoholic mom. We never had much when I was growing up, and I’ve managed to live on not that much since then,” Bee was honest with her. “It’s not that I don’t know that it’s available, and it’s not that I don’t know it’s around me. It’s that I don’t know it’s meant for me.”

Ashley felt sympathetic the moment Bee mentioned her mother. She didn’t expect Bee to be so open and honest with her, but she was grateful that Bee at least expressed the foundation as to why she wasn’t used to hockey, or nicer things, or free jerseys, or free burgers. “You know…I mean, I know it’s not my place, but if it’s any consolation, I think you’re gonna have to start getting used to it all,” she said.

“Why?”

Ashley couldn’t help but smile. “Mo wouldn’t shut up about you to Naz,” she revealed. “Like, literally wouldn’t shut up apparently. He’s smitten. Even Auston thought you were great, and Auston is notoriously finicky with people.”

Bee couldn’t help but crack a smile at the revelation. She felt like if Ashley talked about it anymore, or if she thought about Morgan talking to Naz about it, she would self-combust. “Let’s go meet up with the girls. They must be waiting for us.”

When Ashley introduced Bee to Lucy and Alannah, their warm hugs made her feel right at home. Lucy owned her own yoga studio in Minnesota was married to Jake Gardiner, one of Morgan’s best friends, and she was so pretty Bee could only consider herself a gremlin in her presence. Alannah, tall and statuesque with long blonde hair, was a lawyer, newly called to the bar, and was Zach Hyman’s fiancée. She already had a job lined up as an associate in a firm downtown. When she found out that Bee was getting her MFE and close to graduating, they settled into a comfortable conversation about school and job prospects. Alannah cracked a lot of jokes about working with lawyers and they shared some horror stories about working in still male-dominated environments. By the time the American and Canadian national anthems were being sung, Bee felt as if she had known Alannah and Lucy forever.

Despite it being only a pre-season game, the Scotiabank Arena was full and there was an energy buzzing around the building. Bee took her seat in between Ashley and Alannah, constantly looking for Morgan’s #44 on the ice. She had to remember there were different lines and that he wouldn’t be on the ice at all times. As she watched, Ashley kept mentioning the rules and what to look out for, and for Bee it was like a sensation overload. The puck, the ice, the lines, the line changes, the goalie, the wingers, the D, the bodychecks, the high sticks, the penalties, the penalty kills…it was a lot. And it was so fast paced, Bee barely noticed how quickly the periods went by until the final buzzer. The Leafs had won 6-2 against Detroit. Everybody in the arena was cheering.

It was a while before the team finished their media interviews (“They’re already being interviewed? It’s only the preseason.” “Oh, Bee.”) and whatever clean-up they had to do. Everybody sort of filed out in one big group and began to mingle with those waiting for them. Bee waited patiently for Morgan, who was one of the last out. When she finally saw him, his hair was sticking up in every direction, his tie tied haphazardly around his neck. He was speaking to someone – an older gentleman – also in a suit. He waved her over and she approached gingerly, making sure not to cut in to whatever conversation they were having.

“You got the jersey,” he smiled, revelling in the vision before him. “Bee, this is Mike Babcock,” he said, introducing her to the older gentleman. “Mike, this is Briony McTavish.”

She couldn’t help but appreciate that he didn’t introduce her as his girlfriend to whoever this person was. Ever since their talk, they had been taking it slow and they were taking the time to get to know each other better. They were still getting together, still going on dates, and still making dinners at home for quiet nights in. And yes, they were still spending the night, still having fun, still having sex, but there wasn’t any added pressure; there were no demands. If she was busy marking one night, or had a late class, or was just too tired to get together, Morgan understood. If Morgan was out of town for a game, or wanted to sleep in on an off-day, or wanted to get together with his teammates for a boy’s night, Bee understood. They were working. They were working well.

Mike quickly extended his hand and she shook it politely. “Did you enjoy the game?” he asked politely.

“Yes!” Bee smiled excitedly. “I really loved it. All the goals were awesome. There were so many.”

“I’m glad we won for you,” he said.

Bee picked up on his use of ‘we’ almost immediately. She knew he obviously worked for the team if Morgan was introducing them; she just didn’t know in what capacity. “What position do you have with the team?” she asked innocently.

Mike was silent for a moment before letting out a chuckle. Morgan’s eyes widened slightly, but he grinned as Mike chuckled. “I’m the head coach, Ms. McTavish,” Mike said.

“Oh!” she gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh my God I’m so sorry.” She was mortified. Completely mortified. How did she not know who the head coach of the Toronto Maple Leafs was? How did she not research this beforehand? How did Morgan not tell her?

“I like her already,” Mike winked at Morgan before shaking his hand. He turned his attention back to Bee. “You take care now Ms. McTavish. Safe drive home. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again at the home opener.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t kno --”

“Don’t you apologize Ms. McTavish. There are more important things to know and worry about in this world.”

“It was nice to meet you Mr. Babcock,” she said, still mortified. When he was out of sight and earshot, she practically elbowed Morgan in the ribs. “Why didn’t you mention he was the head coach?”

“Watch it,” he held his side tenderly. “If you injure his defenseman he’ll get angry at you.”

“Morgan I’m being a hundred percent serious,” she began whispering. “How did you not to tell me? Why didn’t you introduce us, like, ‘This is Mike Babcock, my coach’.”

“It probably humbled him a little bit.”

“Morgan.”

“How could you not know who Mike Babcock is?” he asked innocently.

Really? Was he really going there? “I have more important things to worry about,” she said firmly. “You know, like budgeting so I can afford to go grocery shopping this week.”

A scared look washed over Morgan’s face. “Bee, I don’t mean it like that,” he immediately began apologizing.

“Hockey is not my life, Morgan. It’s yours.”

“Bee, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing her hand. “Bee, come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“You thought what?”

“I forgot I was dating the one person in Toronto who never watched hockey,” he said. “I thought you might have looked it up or something. But I was wrong. It was an innocent mistake, Bee. I swear. I promise,” she felt him squeeze her hand.

She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding and rested her shoulders. “It’s okay…just…please make sure you introduce people with name and position so I don’t look like a complete tool, okay? I don’t know anybody. If the owner of the team walked up and tapped me on the shoulder, I wouldn’t know him.”

The universe conspired so that Bee felt a tap on her shoulder at that very moment. When she spun around, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw Lucy smiling at her. There were so many men around – so many of Morgan’s teammates – that Bee had trouble keeping track of them all. There was one of his best friends, Jake Gardiner – Lucy’s husband – who seemed tired but nice, ready to go home. There was a new teammate, Tyler Ennis, with his mane of beautiful hair and a wicked sense of humour Bee could pick up on, just waiting to burst out of him. There was Zach Hyman, Alannah’s fiancé, who was so polite and kind Bee thought she would fall over. There was even John Tavares, serious and polite, but with a giddiness about him. She thought she recognized the name from somewhere, and racked her brain trying to remember, until she finally did: on the cover of the Toronto Sun newspaper, the day after Canada Day. The hometown boy who finally came back to Toronto.

As more teammates began to file out, Morgan got the itch to leave too, but he knew they wouldn’t be able to go until Bee said goodbye to Ashley, Lucy, and Alannah, who were tied up in conversation with Travis Dermott.

“Hey Bee?”

“Hmm?”

“Where are you spending Thanksgiving?”

Thanksgiving was about in about ten day’s time. She was planning on spending it alone, because Mason and Angie always went back to Kingston to spend it with his family. “Um, just around town,” she answered vaguely.

By her vague response, he figured she wasn’t doing much. He was going to go for it. It was a big risk, and a big step, but they payoff would be worth it. If it meant spending more time with her, it was always worth it. “Well, I’m having Auston, Tyler, and Fred over for food on Sunday. You’re more than welcome to come.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your boys n--”

“You wouldn’t be intruding. I’m inviting you.”

“Um…should I bring anything?”

“Just bring yours--”

“Hey, you coming to Thanksgiving or what?” Auston’s giant body snuck up beside Bee’s, causing her to jump a little. By the tone of his voice, and by the way he asked the question, Bee figured it was something Morgan ran past him. “Can you cook a turkey?”

Bee couldn’t help but chuckle. “I d--”

“Matts, you can’t just ask her to cook a fucking turkey for us.”

“Why not?!” he demanded. “What’s Thanksgiving without a turkey? We are not ordering fucking burritos like you suggested.”

Morgan rolled his eyes. “It was just a suggestion!”

Bee was giggling at this point. “For your information, yes, I know how to cook a turkey. Sort of.”

Both men looked at her, shocked. “Really?” Morgan asked.

“Yes. I’ve done it only once before with Angie but it’s been a few years.”

“Okay, cool. Bee’s making the turkey,” Auston smiled. “Hey, do you know how to make mashed potatoes?”

“Matts!” Morgan chastised.

“Who doesn’t know how to make mashed potatoes?” Bee asked rhetorically.

“Incompetent hockey players, that’s who,” Auston winked. “So Bee’s making the turkey and mashed potatoes.”

“Matts, why don’t you just get her to cook the whole fucking dinner,” Morgan said sarcastically.

Auston’s eyes lit up. “Hey man, that’s not a bad idea if --”

“MATTS!”

“YOU SUGGESTED IT!”

“Oh so we can’t have burritos but we make one person cook an entire dinner for five p --”

“Guys!” Bee exclaimed, unable to keep her laughter in. Morgan looked at her, horrified. Auston’s eyes were still glowing. “I can do it. It’s fine.”

“Bee, no,” Morgan shook his head.

“I really don’t mind. Seriously,” she said. She saw the concerned look on Morgan’s face. “Seriously. I don’t mind. You know that I love cooking. If everyone can maybe just pitch in for the groceries that would be cool.”

“Oh, trust me, we’ll cover everything,” Morgan gave a look to Auston. “And he’s going to pay you labour since his brilliant mind is going to be putting you through this. Make sure you charge him a union rate plus overtime,” he glared at Auston. “Fucking ridiculous, Matts. She’s gonna be cooking for a bunch of hockey players.”

“If she’s willing to make it I’m willing to devour it. End of story,” Auston shrugged his shoulders. “I’m glad we settled this! I’ll see you two lovebirds later,” he winked one last time before practically skipping towards the stairs.

Morgan gave Bee another horrified look. “You seriously don’t – I mean, we can order food. We can order from a fancy restaurant and pretend --”

“You need to stop,” she giggled, raising her hand and placing it on his chest. “I’ll be fine. We’re just gonna have to co-ordinate when we can get all this shopping done.”

Morgan grabbed her hand on his chest. “We’ve gonna leave before you get roped into doing anything else.”

She had one last thing to settle before they left. “What am I supposed to do with the jersey now? Who do I give it back to?” she asked.

Morgan looked at her strangely. “It’s yours now, Briony.”

“But Ashley said you wanted me to wear it for the game.”

“I did.”

“But the game is done now.”

“So?”

“So shouldn’t I give it back?”

Morgan shook his head. “You’re something else, Briony,” he muttered tugging her away from whoever remained, giving them all a general goodbye with a big wave before they descended down the stairs.

“Should I take it off? Should I give it back?” she asked.

“The only person that’s gonna be taking that off you is me,” Morgan declared, increasing his pace down the stairs.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #alone together series

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years ago

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Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky prt 42 full draft... Keith just didn't get it

Sitting in the visitors chair of Lance's private room, Keith was watching Lance sleep again. There'd been a definite shift in Lance's behaviour since the quintant in the bathroom. Touches had him jumpy, as did loud noises and long silences at night. His lover slept fitfully, only grabbing a handful of vargas at a time, before he start struggling against the weight of their blankets. He wasn't allowed to sleep in the same bed as Lance, nor did he want help in the bathroom. It'd taken a few quintants to get the therapy thing sorted. Lance was supposed to be going to therapy later that day, once he'd had his nap. Seeing his boyfriend screaming out his pain, comparing the tracking chip to the unwanted child he'd lost hadn't been a thought to cross his mind until Lance had voiced it. Lance was struggling with his body so hard that Keith could only ask Coran to speed up Lance's therapy. It wasn't like Lance didn't want him there, so that wasn't so bad. He'd sent his mother back to Earth, insisting that he was fine... His winces in her hold hidden by his head over the woman's shoulder, which continued as he was forced to promise he'd bring Keith to a family dinner sooner rather than later. Keith was then forced to promise the same thing and to keep his mother-in-law in the loop. Aside from Lance, there was also Daehra to worry about. She'd been in tears over having missed something with her scanners. Coran had offered to upgrade the Telula's medical scanners for her, so now Daehra was receiving a crash course in Altean medicine. Lucteal was bored senseless, all the peace on Altea didn't agree with him. Zak and Tobias on the other hand, seemed to be aiming to set a world record in sneaking into places they shouldn't be to "liberate" tech from its boring existence. It was a weird kind of peace that Lance's team had never known. Not with the constant threat of the Galra, and unknown forces in their sector of space... plus, there was something creepily soothing about Altean and all their "hope for the future" stuff. Rousing Lance with a soft hand on his shoulder as there was a knock on the door, Lance groaned at him. Kosmo raising his head to glare at Keith for interrupting his sleep time with his human "Babe, they're here. Come in!" Keith cringed at the way he called out "come in", his voice had cracked as if he was going through puberty all over again. Letting herself into the room, the therapist was all smiles as she walked over to the end of Lance's bed "Former Black Paladin Keith, and Former Red Paladin Lance, it is such an honour to meet you. You may call me Tor'al" Moving a hand to tuck back some unseen strand of hair from her face, her big green eyes didn't seem like the eyes of therapist. She was far too happy "Uh... you too. Are you going to be Lance's therapist?" Her smile faltered minutely "Indeed. Which means Lance needs to speak for himself" Lance looked to him, the fastest way to get him offside was to pick a fight with Keith "Keith stays" Tor'al looked from Lance to Keith, then back to Lance. Keith could almost see the lightbulb turning on "Oh. I didn't mean it like that. No, no. Sorry. What I mean is, I would prefer that you answer for me. I'm here to listen to you, and I want to listen to you. Often we find it easier when someone else is there to talk for us. Gosh. Sorry. I'm super nervous. I've only recently completed my training, and apparently you're not supposed to be all like "I'm here to be your friend", because some people don't want to see you like that. I'm rambling. So. Yes. I'm Tor'al and I'm here to be your therapist" So Tor'al wasn't secretly sizing up his boyfriend to steal him away... she was just a bit of a, to steal Lance's word,"ditz". Covering his mouth, Lance stifled a small laugh Tor'al tilting her head sideways as she silently questioned "I'm sorry. I was expecting... someone a... older and scarier" "Coran thought you'd prefer someone younger. My boss was supposed to be overseeing your case, but... he is older and scarier. Don't tell him I said so" The more she laughed and smiled, the more Lance seemed to relax. Keith wasn't jealous in the slightest... at all "Ok. Well, I'm Lance, this is Kosmo, and you said, this is Keith. He's my... well, we're married and working it out, so boyfriend slash husband" Lance must have noticed his discomfort, or noticed the sparkle in Tor'al's eyes. Either way, Keith's heart swelled with love at Lance proclaiming he was his. And to a total stranger too. Tor'al gasped, a hand coming to her mouth as if it did something to hide her shock "I had no idea!" "That's the way we'd like to keep it. Voltron has passed, we're simply Lance and Keith now... with our fur-baby Kosmo" "You're my patient. Nothing you say will go beyond these walls. Now, I was hoping we could have a little bit of a chat about what's been happening. If you want, we can go for a walk, or we can sit here, whatever you want is fine" Lance bit his lip, hands starting to fidget with Kosmo's fur "Babe, I can stay or I can wait outside. I don't mind. Whatever you need" "Can you... give us... I mean..." "Baby, I just said I don't mind. I'll just wait in the hall while you talk. Not in the room, but not so far away that I won't be right here if you need me" Lance let out a small sigh, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded "Thank you..." "We're going to get through this remember" "I know. I love you..." Leaning in, Keith stole a kiss. Yes, he was marking his territory. Tor'al was too friendly, and even if Lance was forcing himself to be just as friendly, he wanted Tor'al to back the fuck off "I love you, too. I'll leave Kosmo with you. He doesn't look like he wants to move" Kosmo's ears twitched at his name, his tail giving a lazy thud as he huffed and closed his eyes "I don't think he wants to either" Neither of them were really sure if this was the right place for Lance to start counselling. He was surrounded by Altean shapeshifters on a planet that basically worshipped Allura. That's why Keith hadn't wanted to leave, but it was important for Lance to feel in control of his choices. Banished to the corridors, Keith kept forcing himself not to lean against the door, or to give into the compulsion to climb up into the air vents. He knew what Lance had been through. He didn't need to listen in... but he was tired of waiting by the end of the first 10 doboshes. Things like therapy took time. It took pushing through the pain and finding someone you were able to talk to. That's why therapy has always failed spectacularly for him when he was kid. He simply didn't know the right words. When the adults would talk to him, everything he said would make them sad or angry. Like they all were playing some secret game that he was supposed to know the rules for, but was too stupid or something to be let in on it... starting to pace, he tried to rid himself of his nervous energy. It was still yet to occur to him that Lance might not be the only one who needed to talk to someone professional... or wasn't such a close acquaintance. * Lance was grateful to Coran for trying to find him a therapist he thought he might be able to relate to. He was grateful that the man had only given her the very basic overview... because he wasn't sure she was the right therapist for him. She had this vision in her mind of the heroic Voltron Paladins fighting for them all. It wasn't quite he drug fucked loser vibe he was rocking right now, and more than anything, Lance wanted to preserve people's dreams because he knew how much reality sucked when everything crashed down. Wanting to have a talk with Keith, Lance was grateful for the few moments of peace. Just him and Kosmo. Tor'al had called Coran to let him know Lance's session was over, because the man wanted to talk to him. His deplorable behaviour towards Coran had his gut churning, worse than the nervousness of starting therapy had. Ruffling Kosmo's soft fur, the dopey wolf tried to roll on his back for belly pats, head slipping off the bed as he did. Scaring himself into jolting back up, Kosmo abandoned belly rubs for climbing up into Lance lap and smacking him in the face with his wet nose. He loved Kosmo. The wolf was as dopey as Keith was when the half-Galra was sleepy. Why couldn't he just talk to Kosmo? Kosmo wouldn't judge him, not if pats and treats were involved. He knew Voltron wasn't all fun times, and best of all, he could cuddle him as he talked. Not that he couldn't cuddle Keith, but he feeling super insecure with all the new scars across his body. He wanted to work on himself more before simply giving in to his depression and having Keith kiss things away. He wanted to get better for himself so he could get better for Keith. He wanted to learn techniques for dealing with the craving to get high or to drink himself unconscious. And as he saw it, Tor'al was too... happy. He needed someone who'd been through things. Who got that life wasn't always happiness and peace. He'd even gone so far as to thinking that it might be better to seek treatment on Erathus. The planet was filled with false happiness and shiny lights, but it was also filled with people who'd suffered similar things to what he'd been through and what he was going through. Sure. They may be one or two people would want to kill him there, but at least it'd be more exciting than sitting away in this room where nothing ever happened. Kosmo's yipping was his warning Coran was at the door. Watching it slide open, Coran was wearing his trademark smile as he let himself in. Lance's guilt only rose. Coran was smiling after he'd yelled at him. He didn't even deserve to be yelled at. He was such a wonderful man. Staring at Coran, his tears welled in his eyes, an arm coming out to awkwardly reach for the man who was like an uncle to him. Striding across to him, Coran accepted the invitation, Lance holding both him and Kosmo tightly "I'm so sorry for yelling" "That's alright, my boy" "It's not alright. You were trying to help... and I lost my temper" "No my boy. After what you've been through, a little bit of yelling is hardly anything" "It's not hardly anything to me. I'm so sorry" "Nonsense" Ending the hug, Coran at in the visitors chair "How was your session?" "I..." Hanging his head, it was like Coran read his mind "She's not what you expected?" "No! I mean, no. I'm sure she's nice and all, but... She looks at Keith and I like we're still heroes. Like nothing could go wrong for us now we've saved the universe and all that..." "Oh dear..." "I'm sure she's great... maybe it's just me? Maybe therapy isn't going to help" Taking his hand in his, Coran smiled softly "There's nothing wrong with not being a right fit. Therapy will only work if you feel you can talk to someone" "She was just... so, you know, happy. I don't want to ruin the vision she has of Voltron being the hope of the universe by being... this" "There's nothing wrong with you. She's only one of the counsellors we have here. I failed to think of how young she is. We can always book another appointment with someone else" "Isn't that rude?" "Not at all my boy. As I said, it's about finding someone you feel comfortable talking to you" "I don't mind talking to you... I just... I'm tired of bringing everyone else down" "Lance, you know you can tell me anything. I saw what you went through... and I've seen all your scans" Lance's heart began to beat faster "All of them?" Squeaking out the question, Coran nodded solemnly "Yes, my boy. I'm not going to push you to talk. I know you're not ready to, but I want you to know that doesn't change what I think of you" Lance took a shaky breath. He was already exhausted from skirting around everything with Tor'al "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I couldn't... can't..." "No my boy. They're the ones who should be sorry. Sorry they ever messed with the likes of us" A long tick passed, Lance hoping Coran wouldn't judge him too badly "Coran, where is she? No one will tell me anything. I'm sick of not knowing what's going on. Daehra and Lucteal change the topic too. Keith's exhausted trying to keep up with me and this... and Kosmo can't exactly tell me anything. I hate... I feel like it's Voltron all over again. When Allura was off with Lotor. Kuron was making my life a living hell, and Pidge and Hunk were team punk. This... was my work and I loved my job. And now it's all a lie... I just want to be included" Nodding at him, Coran hummed softly before picking his words "They've taken her out of status, but she won't talk. They've also made a number of arrests. It turned out the chief of police on Erathus was involved. Such an abuse of power. They're transferring everyone to Daibazaal for processing once they've finished returning the wrongly accused prisoners, or those with minor demeanours back to their planets. You've done a gone thing here. I'm just so sorry Altean's had to be behind it" "It doesn't feel like a good thing. It was all a lie..." "It wasn't all a lie. Your young Daehra and Lucteal care deeply for you. You saved their sister, and risked your lives to help so many more" "Because not being "Lance" was easier. Covering my face and being Leandro... he was everything I ever wanted to be" "You are him. You've always been strong" "If I'm so strong, how... how could I let everyone down?" "You just got a little lost on your journey. You've got a good team, and Keith to guide you now" Lance sighed to himself. He didn't want Keith to guide him. He wanted to stand on his own feet again "I'm tired of relying on him all the time. You know. He's not ok. He's been glued to my side since I woke up. He's not... He needs to talk to someone, and I don't know if he feels he can talk to Shiro" Coran raised an eyebrow, his free hand going to his moustache "Did something happen?" "He lost it at Keith when he found out I was addicted to drugs. He was yelling at him. Shiro was yelling at him because of me... God, can you image how disappointed Shiro would be if he found out they'd... raped me on top of everything?" Coran's got teary. It broke Lance's heart to know the man knew what had happened. Coran was another on with dreams he didn't want to ruin "Shiro wouldn't think any less of you. You have nothing to prove to him" "I feel like I do. He's always been... so cool... I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want Keith to know... He's been so good about it, but this body... I don't feel like myself anymore. I want to move around. I want to go for a walk. I want to feel something other than cold all the time..." "You want to go for a walk?" "Keith wouldn't be happy" "Well, my boy. Keith isn't here. He can't complain if I need to borrow you for a varga or two" "You might just give him a heart attack if I was gone for that long" "That's a risk I'm willing to take" "And you don't mind? Being seen with me?" "Of course not my boy" "But I'm..." He was dirty. He was dirty and Coran knew about it. He couldn't process that the man might not think any less of him. Not when he hated himself so badly "You're you, my boy. Now, let's get you out of this bed before Keith comes back" Escaping the hospital was a wonderful feeling. Kosmo trotting by their sides as Lance and Coran made their way towards a grassed area. He'd been inside for far too long. Everything felt stiff from lack of use. It probably would have been easier for him to have had an injection first but he didn't want to take the easy route. And now that he was out, he didn't want to go back in "How does it feel?" "Nice. Thank you. I never thanked you for those beautiful flowers either" "Nonsense my boy" "Mami would hit me if she knew I waited this long. She's a force to be reckoned with" "That she is. She's quite taken by Keith" "You noticed that too?" "Isn't that a good thing?" "Yeah. I love Keith, but sometimes I feel like this is all going too fast... We're always together... I want him to feel like he doesn't have to babysit me all the time" "I doubt he feels like that" Waving his hands, Lance grew angry at himself for not being able to articulate exactly what he wanted to say "But I do. He's... he's always there. He's always making me feel better, or there when it all gets too much. I want to do something for him, but I don't know what to do... He's... he's the one thing that's been keeping me together. I want to do that for him. Be there for him. Be better... you know. Like... we... we haven't even been on a real date. He said he'd organise it, but I want to do that for him. Spoil him a little..." "Then why don't you take him on a date?" "How? I'm stuck in the hospital all the time. I'm supposed to be recovering, but I'm all healed up" "Why don't you let me help you out there?" Lance mentally groaned. Altean courting rituals weren't his thing. Throwing himself down on the grass, he sighed at the feeling beneath his skin. This... this was nice. Coran sat down next to him, much more refined as he did "Thanks, Coran, but I'm not wearing armour made of pots and pans again" "No, no. Your Earth customs are quite different to ours. Now, this date..." By the end of the following varga, they had a plan... which mostly hinged on Coran and lying ever so slight to Keith. * "Smuggling" clothes in for him, Coran had asked to borrow Keith for a moment. Leading him away long enough for Lance to change into a pair of black jeans and one of the shirts Keith had picked up for him... and his boots. Sweet Jesus he'd missed his boots. Lance asked Coran for something long sleeve, but that had gotten lost in translation. The man providing him with a short sleeve button up, a jacket. Then again, it wouldn't be a "Coran plan" if there wasn't a slight hiccup. Unable to style his hair, he had to let it do its own thing, trying to ignore how the fact stuck in his brain. He really wanted this go perfectly. Keith was long past deserving of pampering. Slipping out the bathroom, he headed back to his room to stash his clothes. Coran should still be leading Keith out to the front of the hospital via the longest route possible, giving him time to make his way to the front and be waiting for his dating, looking as dashing as he could. Waiting at the front of the hospital was a hoverbike. The Telula would have been too conspicuous, and too tempting to make a real escape on. Feeling stupid having nothing in his hands, he strode into the garden with the hope of a stealing the purple, rose like flower off one of the plants. Out of nerves, he broke the branch, cursing as he tried to hide the evidence back into the plant. It wasn't like it was immaculately pruned down to the nearest millimetre, and this attempt was a total failure. Oh wait, yes it was. Hearing Coran and Keith approaching, he swore again, snapping off another branch as he tried to get a flower. Fuck it. Keith could have the whole damn branch. Bending the branch upwards, it was a failed bouquet, but it was better than nothing. God. He was so nervous... He wanted everything to be just right. Walking out the hospital doors, Keith was mid-protest over leaving Lance when his eyes landed on him "This is where I leave you, good luck tonight" "Thanks, Coran" Coran didn't actually make to leave. Keith stumbling slightly as he moved away from the Altean's side and over to Lance, stopping right in front of him. Awkwardly, Lance thrust the makeshift bouquet at his boyfriend's chest "Do you want to go on a date with me!?" Yelling the question at Keith, Keith caught the bouquet... which he let slip back into being a very bent branch. Lance's cheeks heated to into a hard red. It was simple. "Keith, would you like to go on a date with me?". A question that didn't need yelling... Looking to the branch in his hands, Keith started laughing. He was such a quiznakking idiot. No wonder Keith was laughing at him, he was an idiot. He was worse than idiot. He could feel the tears forming, when Keith reached out to place his hand on Lance's arm "Of course I do, babe... With how Coran was talking, I had no idea what was going on..." Lance's heart soared, a lump of emotion in his throat. He hadn't fucked things up? "Really?" "Yeah, babe... Are you alright?" "I thought I blew it" "You most definitely didn't blow it... I, uh, appreciate the branch" Lance groaned, moving to walk over to the hoverbike "I tried to pick a flower off... you know what, shut up and accept my gift" Climbing on the hoverbike, Lance fired it up. Keith jogging over and climbing up behind him "I accept your gift. Why didn't you tell me?" "Because this is a surprise, Mullet. It's not a surprise if you know about it. I was sure Coran was going to tell you all about it" "No... to be honest, I have no idea what he was talking about" "Hold on. I should probably warn you that Coran helped with dinner" "Oh great. It's going to be inedible" Lance's heart dropped. Keith was joking, but things had to be perfect. Revving the bike, he used that as an excuse not to reply. Following Coran's recommendation, Lance found what he was looking for. Weaving his way through the flowery field, he skidded the bike to a stop atop the hill Coran had recommended. The main city of Altea laying at their feet as the sun hung low "We're here" Backing off, Keith jumped off the bike, holding his hand out so Lance could climb down. Grabbing the picnic basket, Lance took Keith's hand, stepping off with a smile on his face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone driving for fun "What are we doing here?" Wasn't it kind of obvious? "You. Me. Sunset and picnic...? Coran told me about how here has the best view of the sunset outside of the city... I... I wanted to do something for you. You know? I'm not... well. Mentally... and stuff. So..." Taking his hand back, Lance scratched the back of his head "I wanted to do something nice together. I know I'm all kinds of mixed up. And probably sending you all kind of mixed signals..." "Lance, you're babbling. This is perfect" "Really? I wanted to do something fancier, but..." "I promise this is perfect. Should we get set up?" Right. Picnic. They actually needed to set things up... "Quiznak..." "Babe?" Waving a hand, Lance walked towards the mound of the hill "Never mind. Just... nervous" "You're nervous?" "Yes! I mean, yes. Why do I keep yelling at you?" He didn't mean to keep yelling. It wasn't like he hadn't been on a date before... on Earth... with Allura... whom he wasn't married to, accidentally or otherwise "I don't know. I... I'm kind of nervous too. I've never been on a date" Lance was relieved to know he wasn't the only one that was nervous. Setting the picnic basket down, the Cuban was cautious as he opened the lid. When nothing jumped out to attack him, Lance let out a long breath of relief. On top was a thick blue blanket. Pulling it out, Keith took it from his hands "What else is in there?" Examining the contents, it all seemed safe. Pulling out a green bottle, he popped the top of it, but couldn't catch a particular scent "There's a bottle of... what I hope isn't nunvil, and the food is wrapped up, so I guess that's going to be another surprise" "Remember when he cooked for us the first time?" Grabbing out the covered plates of food with his other hand, he turned back to watch Keith flick out the blanket and lay it out carefully for them. Stepping onto the blanket, Lance felt like he should toe his shoes off or something "How could I forget? And that food fight with the goo... You frustrated me so badly I wanted to knock that smugness right off your face" "You were the biggest, self-centred arsehole that I'd ever met. I didn't understand how you could just flirt with Allura. Or how you could be so fucking happy" Too much attention was on him. Sitting down, Lance let Keith lean into him as he sat beside him "You were my bisexual awakening. You and that goddamn mullet. Don't tell mami I took the lord's name in vain again" "Your secret's safe with me. And I was your bisexual awakening?" "Mmm... I guess... I mean, noticed boys, but it was different with you. You're different. I don't mean that in a bad way... I like you how you are. I like you a lot... and now I'm babbling again. Can you talk? I'm having the struggles right now" Keith nudged him "You're doing just fine. How long have you and Coran had this planned?" Gazing at lights of the city below them slowly flickering to life as the sun began dipping lower in the orange and indigo sky, Lance gave himself a moment to calm his heart back down "This afternoon. Coran came to see me after my session to see how I went with Tor'al. He's got Kosmo, just so you know where our wolf is..." "How was it?" Popping the side clasps on the first plate of food, there was a spread of roasted vegetables and some kind of meat beneath. Lance didn't want to spoil the night. He didn't want to tell Keith that Tor'al couldn't help him "A little awkward. I talked to Coran about... stuff. That was good. Better than I thought it would be. He was so excited for this date" He'd said the right thing, hadn't he? Popping the lid on the second plate, it was dessert. A pale pink milk jelly with juniper berries sitting on the top. Their dainty appearance seemed too refined for the pair of them "Do you want to talk about it?" Reaching over, Lance bopped Keith on the nose with the tip of his pointer finger "I want to talk about you. And enjoy this date with you. How was your talk with Tor'al?" "Better than I thought it'd go. She was... enthused over Voltron, that's for sure. She has lots of big plans. She wants to focus on helping healing those who are still scared of Galra. I ended up talking to her longer than I thought I would" Lance had been outside for a couple of vargas with Coran and Kosmo before they finally made it back to his room, to find Keith wasn't there. Lance figured Coran had messaged Keith, or had seen him... not spent vargas talking with a girl. No. He wasn't jealous. Tor'al was simply a "fan girl". Keith was "like the future", he wanted people out there to see that there was good in Galra. Something Lance also wanted, even if his memories had been soured further after he'd finally returned to space "Babe?" Staring at him, the corner of Keith's lips were turned down "Sorry, I was thinking about how it would be nice for people to see the other side of things" "You're not jealous?" Lance wanted to deny that he wasn't jealous, but some part of him... a big part of him was. Recovery took honesty. He'd seen that in the self help brochures that had magically appeared at home. He wanted to try being honest. So many secrets and lies still preoccupied his mind "Maybe a little. But that's on me. Not you. With all this head stuff. No. I'm glad you found someone else who can see that everyone needs to work together to heal" "I don't like her. I mean, she does nothing for me. At first I thought she was after you with how she was focusing on you. It wasn't a great feeling" "Jealousy never is. I forgot to check the basket for cutlery..." "I'll check. It's the least I can do. I can't believe you planned a date with Coran of all people" Climbing to his feet, Keith wiped his hands on his jeans before walking back to the picnic basket, deciding to carry it back over to where they were sitting. Settling back down, his boyfriend rummaged through the basket "There's only one knife and fork, and a spoon buried down the bottom... hey, the bottom's actually another blanket " Oh... of course things couldn't go smoothly. It was supposed to be perfect. He'd messed up by yelling at Keith, now he was saying he was jealous and Coran hadn't even got the cutlery right. Heck, he'd even torn a tree in half trying to pick a flower. Realising his chest was starting to tighten, Lance forced in a deep breath through his nose "Hey, what's wrong? What are you thinking?" God. Why did Keith have to read him like a book?! "It's... it was supposed to be perfect. I really wanted it to be perfect for you. I wanted to spoil you and show you I appreciate everything. I've yelled at you. Gotten jealous, and there's not enough cutlery..." Placing the cutlery down on the edge of the plate with the roast on it, Keith pulled the blanket out of the bottom of the basket. Lance hadn't even realised that the soft fabric wasn't part of the basket lining. Draping it around their shoulders, Keith took his right hand as he rested his forehead against Lance's arm "Babe. This date is perfect. I'm with the man I love, on a secluded mountain top, with real food, no prying eyes, and he'd actually jealousy over me. Do you know how sweet I find all of this? You went to all this trouble, for me. Just because we not have one set of cutlery doesn't ruin the date. It just means I have to feed you" Practically launching himself sideways, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith. His nose pressed up against his boyfriend's neck as he breathed in Keith's calming scent. There was nothing like it in the whole wide universe "Thank you. Thank you for being with with me. Thank you for not giving up on me..." "I love you. All of you. Even the bits you think are broken you idiot" "I know. I still get scared... I'm still scared you're going to disappear forever. I mean, we both will go back to work and be busy and stuff eventually... but if you stopped existing like Allura did. I don't know what I'd do" "Did talking with Tor'al bring all of that back up?" Lance shook his head. For a date that was supposed to be about Keith, it was an awful amount about him "Coran... Can we please focus on how wonderful you are, and leave this talk for tomorrow?" "I don't know about wonderful" "I do. I really appreciate your support" "You're making it sound like you don't support me back just as hard" Lance's heart gave a weird kind of thump. He was a wreck. He'd been getting better right up until he'd decided to run away. Which was technically... one phoeb... two phoebs... three phoebs and a handful of quintants ago... He'd been recovering for the last phoeb. He was well and truly over "recovering" in a hospital bed. His after pod scans had been good... or the nurse that dropped their breakfast off had said as much when his mother demanded to know "I don't?" "You do. You've always been my stability. This is just a rough patch" "This whole relationship's kind of been a rough patch since it started... everything kept happening on to top of everything else... but at the same time, I feel like I haven't accomplished much work wise. I want to get back out there..." "I know the feeling..." Lance deflated a little. He'd been keeping Keith from his own work too... "... but I think we needed this. This stepping back and breathing together. Feeling safe again" This was going nowhere. Lance wanted to go back to work. Keith probably knew all about Kre'el being transferred. If he kept dwelling, he'd bring the mood down future. Stealing Keith's move, he moved himself to rest his cheek against Keith's arm, both of them watching the setting sun as they held hands. "Yeah. This is nice. Keith and Lance, Lance and Keith. You know, neck and neck" "Rivals for life" Lance let out a snort, his boyfriend was the sweetest idiot in existence "Exactly. But you need to go easy on me" "Go easy on you! You're like this secret badarse bounty hunter who robbed the rich and gave to the poor. You're amazing. I know it was all messed up, but when I was looking for you, I got to see all the hundreds of people you helped. Do you know how hot that is? How bad arse it is that you saw the problem and stepped up?! I know you called yourself Leandro, but helping someone. That's Lance all over. You're not Saint, but you're not as messed up as you think you are. I'm so fucking proud of you, and to be with you. And then you go and do something as thoughtful as this for me... you better believe I'm not going to go easy on you for even a tick. Plus, you give pretty awesome cuddles. I didn't even know I was cuddled until I started cuddling you" "Think about all those cuddles you missed..." It was the least weird or possibly insulting thing he could say, even if he felt stupid for doing so. He wasn't... all that... maybe he'd helped a few people... and maybe he'd robbed more than a few people... and maybe he'd felt like a badarse when he was doing so... stupid Keith might have had a point or two. But he wasn't going to concede defeat that easily. Not while they watched the sunset, and the lights of the city twinkle like stars reflecting in a lake. Not when the date was finally going to plan "... Hey, Keith... I love you... and Coran forgot to give us a torch, so we should probably eat" Beside him, Keith dropped a kiss against the shaven spot of his hair "Sounds like that a plan... And as bad as it is, it kind of sounds like something we would do. After getting married by accident and all. Forgetting a torch on a night picnic... yeah, we're capable of that" Lance gave a dramatic sigh, letting Keith's good mood bleed into him. He could smell it coming off him, this kind of content smell, like Keith was happy. He wanted to Keith to be happy. That was his sincerest wish "Yep. I hate to admit it, but you're right. We're two stupid idiots, struck dumb by love. I have to wonder about the intelligence of the bad guys out there if we're the ones taking them down" "I think Honerva proved you can be intelligent and evil. While Lotor proved you can be a stupid dick and evil" "He had great hair" The words escaped him before he knew what happened. Lotor's hair was always so annoyingly perfect and soft looking... his never did what he wanted it to "I can't deny that... aesthetically he should have been the perfect package, yet... you were always doing crazy things to my heart and mind. You're so much more beautiful than he was..." Lance could almost hear the blush in Keith's voice. And since when had Keith checked Lotor out? He wasn't ok with this... and wait... "doing crazy things to his heart"? Nudging Keith, he truthfully teased him lightly "You're clearly blind, and you're clearly not including yourself in this growing beauty competition. Black Babe Keith, the sexiest undercover operative the Blades have ever known" "I don't know about that" "I do... here, come here. I want to cuddle with you" "We are cuddling" "Mmm, but I want to hold you properly. Plus, I don't know if we can operate cutlery like this" "Oh, you so we're back to this? With me feeding you?" "What? How do you get to that?" "We have one set of cutlery and you want me sitting in your lap... If you want those cuddles, you're going to let me take care of you" Lance rolled his eyes, this was a date for Keith! Why was he being pampered? Looking up to Keith's face, his boyfriend's eyes seemed to sparkle, making it hard to seem too pouty "You're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" Lance wasn't sure it Keith was smiling or smirking, but there was mischief in his eyes "Maybe... Maybe I like you being all fluster like this?" Lance's heart gave a weird beat, the Cuban glad the world was growing dark because he then Keith wouldn't be able to see all their facial expressions and ticks his words caused. Reaching out, he flicked Keith in the forehead gently. He knew how damn annoying flicks to the forehead could be "I'm not flustered, you're flustered" "Right. Whatever you say, Loverboy Lance" * Keith wasn't sure how a date was supposed to go, but he was pretty damn sure that he was luckiest guy in the world. Dinner had been nice, feeding Lance resulted in food going everywhere it wasn't supposed to, and a foot finding its way into the Altean dessert... The evidence of which was promptly "hidden" by throwing the "remains" down the opposite side of the hill. Grumbling about dessert, Lance was pouting far too much for Keith's liking, the half-Galra leaning back against his boyfriend until Lance was forced to pretty much lay on his back, laughing as he failed to scold him over his behaviour, before then pushing him off him. Moving to lay shoulder to shoulder, Keith couldn't stop the smile that seemed to have etched itself on his lips. His hand finding Lance's as they laid looking up at the stars above. All of this... had been perfect. The unexpected gifting of a broken branch. The loan of the hoverbike and surprise picnic as they watched the sunset together. He was happy. He was more than happy. He could honestly say he didn't have a word for how happy and content he felt as they stared up silently. Things had been shaky for them. Lance was still in hospital, despite being healed. Keith didn't know what he was supposed to do now. If he took Lance back to the Telula, Lance might just decide to skip out on therapy. Therapy wasn't an easy thing... and this was... this was his boyfriend's life that was at risk. Lance had reached out his hand more than once, swallowing down his pride and fear of judgment to ask for help. So hearing that hearing he wasn't sure about talking to Tor'al... it was disheartening. He didn't want the one shaky experience to force Lance to revert back into "Leandro". Yet... He didn't know... he didn't know what "he didn't know", but there was something niggling in his mind. Lance had been so sure that he couldn't talk to anyone, or any of the old gang, yet he'd let Coran in. Coran who reminded him of Allura and everything that would never be. Not that Keith wasn't grateful to Coran, or happy that they were both reconnecting. No. That wasn't it... He was scared? Scared that Lance would bail backwards from Coran. That he'd flee, or throw his walls up again... or maybe even lash out again, and possibly ruin his friendship in his own head. Keith was sure Coran would always value Lance. But Lance's anxieties made things so hard for his lover. He didn't want Lance crying and convinced that everyone hated him. He couldn't do that again. It'd broken his heart all over again... and no amount of Hunk's amazing cooking made up for the way they'd all let them down. "Keith?" Realising he'd been lost in his own thoughts, Keith hummed as he continued to stare up at the stars above them. Turning his head, he found Lance already staring at him. A tick or two passing before Lance looked back to the night sky "Did you ever play that game when you were a kid?" "What game?" "Where you'd stare up at the stars and make up your own constellations? Marco would always win at home. We'd lay on the grass behind the house, spending hours looking up at the stars and dreaming up names and stories. It'd come down to Marco and Veronica, Rachel would get mad because her stories were always about princesses being rescued from dragons and we all teased her over them, so she'd choose Marco, and I'd choose Veronica. Luis would have to break the tie. He'd make up a story using both of their stories... but one time I heard whispering to Marco that he "had his back". Veronica always wanted a clear answer. Just when it'd start to get loud, mum would come out with her slipper and yell at us for being outside and not sleeping" "I can't say I ever played with your siblings" "Ha. Ha" "I'm sorry, babe. I had to. Dad and used to watch the stars. Then Shiro, Adam and I would go out from time to time... it was different with them, then it was with dad. When your parent tells you "your mums up there watching over you", you don't take it literally. I'd forgotten about it. He'd always tell me how she didn't want to leave, but had to because "she loved me so much"... again, when you're a kid... I had nightmares about it for years. Her dead because of me... sorry..." His mouth was moving without talking to his head. He hadn't meant to go off on a tangent... "Babe, your dad would be so fucking proud of you, if he could see you now. I never met him, but if I was your dad, I would be" Squeezing Lance's hand, Lance always knew what to say "Thank you. I think he would have liked you... I mean... when I was on that space whale, I realised how much I'd forgotten. Mum and I were forced to relieve glimpses of each other's past, present and future. Seeing him like that, with her... it gave so much back to me. I got to know him before I'd ever met him. He was like you. He always wanted to help and do the right thing, no matter the person" "He was an amazing guy" "You never met him..." Nor was Lance there in his head for the testing at the Blades originally, or for the flashbacks "Didn't need to. He fathered the most wonderful and directionally challenged boyfriend a guy could ask for" "I don't know how you can always be so... I feel like we're both looking at me in two completely different ways" Lance sighed, wriggling a little closer "Ahhh. That would be my old friends PTS, depression, anxiety and good taste, popping up to say hello" "Maybe its the brain damage" As soon as Keith said the words, he wanted to take them back. Lance tensing beside him, his laugh forced as he replied "Ha! Yeah. Maybe... I mean, there's scar tissue up there" "Babe..." "It's all good. You know" Keith cringed. He knew that tone. Lance trying to play down how torn to shreds he felt "That was shitty of me" "It's fine" "No, it's not. I shouldn't have tried to joke about it. I know how much it upsets you. I just mean... you get me when I don't get me. You're bring up all these feelings and stuff that I don't know how to process, when you show me... I don't know how I got an amazing man like you, to ever date me. I'm just me..." "Keith, it's... ok. It stung, but I know you were joking" There seemed to be an unspoken "right?" in that sentence "I'm sorry, babe. Um... can you teach me how to make pictures and stories with the stars, like you do?" Unexpectedly Lance rolled towards him "You're so weird at reading people aren't you?" "Maybe?" "You are. I was preparing to mentally smack you, and now you want to know how to make shapes in the stars? Only you could apologise and then ask that question on the back of it" Yeah. He was the weird kid who'd didn't fit in... No one wanted to be his friend or thought he was normal "Fiiiine. I forgive you. Get ready to learn all about a whole new side of space" Rolling back onto his back, Lance raised his left hand towards the stars "What do you see over here?" Stars? Keith couldn't tell which stars in particular he was supposed to be looking at "There's no wrong answer. Those three in a line then that one off to the left. What do you see?" Keith squinted. He saw stars... His father would point out constellations... not make things up... "Uh... stars?" "Or, it could be a walking stick? A candy cane? See those stars over here... up a bit and to the right, those 5... doesn't it look like a house? There's an old man who lives up there, and lost his walking stick..." Keith wasn't getting it... but Lance was "How did he lose his walking stick?" "Hmm?" "I don't know how to do this... so, can you..." "You need to stop overthinking it, babe. Use your imagination. Maybe it's a magical walking stick that's trying to make its way home?" A what now? "Why would a walking stick be walking around on its own? How is it walking around on its own?" Lance sighed at him dramatically "It's a magical walking stick? With like magical powers. It could be hopping?" "A hopping walking stick?" Rolling over to face him, Lance smacked Keith lightly on the chest "No one said it needed to make sense, Mister Sensible" Echoing Lance's movements, Keith rolled to face his boyfriend "I'm hardly "Mister Sensible". That's more Shiro's department" "Sensible Space Dad Shiro. Yeah, that sounds about right" Wriggling closer to Lance, Keith nuzzled into his cheek. Using the cooling night as an excuse to cuddle in to close "So what does that make us?" "Two halves of the same idiot?" "I can't deny that. Thank you for tonight, babe. It's been nice... just having us to ourselves" "It's been nice not being watched or fussed over... even if you do have a hatred of magical walking sticks" Angling his face, Keith pressed a small kiss to Lance's lips. Lance stiffening for a tick, before returning the kiss softly, one turning into three before they broke apart, Keith smiling "I don't hate magical walking sticks..." "Mhmm. So if we're not going to talk about the stars, what do you want to do?" "We could go for a ride? Did Coran give you a bed time?" Lance huffed "You all told me I had to open up, so I open up and try to let him in, and now you're all teasing me about this..." Keith had been joking, but Lance seemed genuinely upset. He didn't know why shifted his boyfriend's mood so fast, only that he'd put his foot in it again "Babe... I just meant, it's ok we borrow the bike for a bit, isn't it?" "Yeah... he said just to park up near the hospital when we were done" "Then let's go for a ride? See what we can see?" "It's night... there's not much to see" "Then we can see what we can find" "Ok... but no crashing or doing anything close to crashing. I refuse to go back into a pod for at least the next decaphoeb" The gears were still not aligning between them... Maybe Lance was worrying about the wrong things all over again? "Can we make it a life long thing? You're banned from being hurt... I hated... I hated not being able to do anything but watch and wait..." There was a lot of things Keith hated. Like that Lance's self worth, and confidences, and his belief in his good looks which had only grown as they'd aged "You're not very good at sitting back and letting things take their course" "No. I suppose not..." "Most definitely not. Well, this night is all about you, so I guess you're driving" "I promise I won't crash. Hey, does Altean have a beach?" "I have no idea" "Then let's go. Race you to hoverbike?" Pushing Keith down, Lance was up and off before the half-Galra stood a chance. Snatching up the blankets, he sent the basket flying in his haste. He was rubbish with stars, but flying... that he could do.

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gadgetsrevv · 5 years ago

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Jadon Sancho will be soccer’s next superstar … but only on his terms

Craig Burley gives his top five U-21 English players, with Jadon Sancho, Marcus Rashford and Trent Alexander-Arnold all battling for the top spot.

DORTMUND, Germany — Jadon Sancho lives in a contemporary home overlooking an artificial lake in Phoenix-See, an affluent development on the edge of Dortmund. He drives a white Mercedes, but he doesn’t drive it far. He’ll go to practice, which is about five minutes away. If it’s hot, maybe he’ll get ice cream. Then he’ll come home.

He’ll settle in with a video game, FIFA or Fortnite, and wait for his private chef to make him dinner. It’s a life so bland, so willfully anonymous, that you’d think it wouldn’t matter where he lives.

It matters. Still only 19, Borussia Dortmund’s Sancho has emerged over the past year as a transcendent footballer. “He’s an exceptional talent,” Jurgen Klopp said after his Liverpool team lost to Dortmund, his former team, in a friendly in July. “There’s no doubt about the potential of Jadon Sancho.” These days, he’s regarded as the best player in the world born in the 21st Century; there is nobody younger who is better. The website Transfermarkt gauges his value at 100 million Euros. “He can be a very, very, very important player in Europe,” says Lucien Favre, the Dortmund manager.

Axel Witsel, Sancho’s teammate, goes further. “I’ve watched him improve since I came here,” Witsel says. “He works hard. He scores goals. If he keeps going like that, he will be one of the best players of his generation.”

Sancho scored 12 goals last season for Dortmund. ‘When I left Manchester [City], there were a lot of people that doubted me,’ he says.

And Dortmund? It’s a working-class city in the Ruhr Valley, Germany’s version of Pittsburgh. Hardly a tourist destination, it would seem unlikely to attract a young, ambitious Englishman in any profession. But it’s crucial to Sancho’s trajectory because it isn’t Manchester. Or London, Liverpool, Watford, Southampton, or anywhere else in England.

Three summers ago, Sancho declined the opportunity to tour North America with Manchester City after refining his game at its youth academy. The club regarded him as a potential first-teamer somewhere down the road. Sancho believed he was there already, even at 17. “I was standing out, week in and week out,” he says, describing his success with Man City’s U-23 team. “I felt it was time to seek another challenge.”

Pep Guardiola, Manchester City’s manager, wanted to move slowly. He proposed letting Sancho test his skills against the first team during training sessions. “You start the phase where you duel with Kyle Walker, with [Benjamin] Mendy, with [Vincent] Kompany,” Guardiola said, listing three of City’s — and the world’s — leading backs at the time. “And then we will see what is your level, your dribbling, when you are going to play against all the fullbacks in the Premier League. That is what we believe is the next step.”

It sounded sensible, but Sancho didn’t want to wait. Crucially, he didn’t have to. Over the past decade, starting around the time that Klopp inherited the team in 2008, Dortmund has aggressively pursued promising teenagers, including Christian Pulisic. It was primed to do the same with Sancho. “You could see how good he was,” says Michael Zorc, Dortmund’s sporting director.

The Premier League is regarded as the best in football. Aspiring stars are supposed to come to England to make their fame and fortune, not leave it. But rather than striving to play for Guardiola, who had won titles at Barcelona and Bayern Munich and would win at Manchester City, Sancho decided to leave him before his senior career had even started. He was driving, somebody said, the wrong way down a one-way street.

Dortmund isn’t much further from South London than Manchester is. But it was in another country, and it might as well have been another world. “Going there was a very bold move,” says Arsenal’s Reiss Nelson, a childhood friend. “Not everyone would have done it. It was brave.”

Sancho had never played a first-team match. He couldn’t speak German. He didn’t know anyone in Dortmund, where he became the first Englishman to play for the club. He wasn’t criticized so much as pitied. Was he delusional? Getting bad advice? “When I left Manchester, there were a lot of people that doubted me,” Sancho says. “Saying it’s too early to leave England. It’s a big club. I might not play. That it was very rare for an English player to do well in Germany.”

But Sancho knew he was ready to go because he knew where he’d already gone.

As a kid, Sancho honed his game playing street soccer. ‘There’s no rules. I was just freestyling, finding ways to nutmeg people. You’d bring back tricks to the training ground,’ he says.

The Kennington tube stop is the one after Elephant and Castle, heading south on the Northern Line. Topped by a metal dome, it has pretensions of grandeur. It must have looked quite stately some sixty or seventy years ago. But the stained and crumbling concrete, and the straggle of bystanders on the street corner in front of it — one in a workout pants and a ripped jacket, another in knicker-length trousers and a soiled checked shirt — give it away.

This is Kennington, in the London borough of Southwark. It’s where Sancho grew up, a lower-middle-class neighborhood with the accent on the lower. Like Camden Town and then Bermondsey, it has started to gentrify because affordable housing near central London is hard to find. It looks a lot better, residents insist, than it did a few years ago. But it has a long way to go.

Until he was 12, Sancho lived with his mother and sister on the ground floor of Kennington’s Guinness Trust Estates, red-brick apartments that were built in 1921 with a government grant. In primary school, Sancho would arrive home shortly after three o’clock. By four, he’d have eaten a snack, done his homework, packed his gear. If his father, Sean, was able to swing by in his old Citroen, Sancho would wait for him in the parking lot. If not, Sancho would head to that tube stop with one of his father’s friends, who had been designated for the assignment that day.

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Driving from Kennington to Watford F.C.’s academy, which is located on the far northwestern edge of Greater London, takes maybe two hours each way during the afternoon crush. By tube, the trip is shorter, but only slightly. Take the Northern Line toward Charing Cross. Get off at Euston and wait for the National Rail. Go two stops on a Midlands train toward Milton Keynes. Then transfer to an Overground train at Watford Junction for the short hop to Watford High Street. It’s a fifteen minute walk from there. Leave at four and you’ll make the 6 p.m. training, assuming none of the trains arrived late or got stuck in one of the delays that plague London transit. “It took a long, long time,” Sancho says.

Two hours there, two hours back — all for two hours of training with a Watford youth team. Watford had discovered Sancho during a camp it ran in Battersea, across the river from Chelsea’s Stamford Bridge. Sean Sancho’s friend was working as a liaison between the community and the club. Young Jadon showed up and impressed everyone. “They realized he was good,” Sean says, “and they sent that up the line.”

Pep Guardiola, Manchester City’s manager, wanted to develop Sancho’s game slowly. Sancho didn’t want to wait.

The first-generation son of a Guyanese father and a Jamaican mother, Sean, 45, grew up in Kennington. He never married Jadon’s mother, so he used football to stay connected with his son. They’d occasionally go to see Chelsea or Arsenal, but mostly Jadon liked to play. Sean encouraged it. Football would help keep him away from trouble. “If you’re idle, something can come and take your mind away,” Sean says. “You’ve got to have something else to do.” After Jadon’s skills started turning heads, Sean started thinking of football as his son’s ticket to a better life. “Without football, I don’t know what path he might have taken,” he says. “I’d like to be optimistic, but who knows?”

Soon Jadon was offered a place at Watford’s academy. “We saw it as the next step,” Sean says. “That was always what was in my mind. Whatever needs to be done needs to be done.” At the time, Jadon was eight years old. The academy had no provision for boarders that young. But the trip from Kennington to Watford was too long for him to make every day. It was agreed that he would do it three times a week.

On the other days, Sancho headed to the cages. Blacktopped playgrounds surrounded by chain-link fencing, they’d been devised by cynical developers as a way to devote as little real estate as possible to inner-city exercise. They’ve evolved into one of Europe’s greatest manifestations of street football. Games there are raw, unstructured, often dangerous. Nobody is ever offside. You call fouls at your risk. “You’re allowed to do anything,” Sancho says. “There’s no rules.”

More talented players are on display in the cages of South London than anywhere else in the city, maybe anywhere in Europe. A few make it out. Crystal Palace’s Wilfried Zaha developed his game in the cages. So did Liverpool’s Joe Gomez. Tottenham’s Ryan Sessegnon and Chelsea’s Tammy Abraham are two of the latest to break through. “You come home from school and you maybe don’t even change your shoes,” recalls Nelson, who lived a short walk from Sancho in Aylesbury. “You’ve got the ball at your feet, and you learn what you can do with it. Going into the academy, you bring that rough flair from the streets with you.”

One of the playgrounds is located over a tall fence that borders the development where Sancho lived. What passes for a pitch there is tiny, no bigger than a basketball court. Even five-on-five, there’s little room to maneuver. Dribbling makes far more sense than trying to thread a pass through the crush of defenders. Sancho is renowned for his speed, but in the cages speed becomes irrelevant. It’s all quickness, a shake of the head in one direction, then acceleration in another. “You have to shuffle your body,” Sean Sancho says. “It’s about the feint, like boxing. You get the defender to second-guess.”

Because he didn’t go to Watford every day, Sancho was able to get the best from each of his disparate worlds. The skills he honed on rough blacktop were even more effective on a proper field. “I was just freestyling, finding ways to nutmeg people,�� Sancho says. “You’d bring back tricks to the training ground. And not many people have them kind of tricks at a young age, so I would stand out.” At the same time, the coaching he received at Watford made him shine even brighter in neighborhood games. He learned how to make a pass, and how to effectively receive one. “You add that to the cage,” he says, “and become a complete player.”

Sancho commuted to Watford for four years. When he turned 12, the club proposed to pay his tuition at an elite boarding school near its facility. Many of the students there were sons of foreign millionaires. “It was a very different culture,” Sancho says. That, too, was part of Watford’s plan. Sancho had brought his street football nous with him from Kennington, but he’d also brought some of the street’s less desirable characteristics. “My attitude wasn’t the best,” he admits. “That part of the hood was still in me. I was getting into trouble, getting detention. And one of my coaches sat me down and said, ‘We rate you highly, but you’ve got to choose which way you want to go. Left or right. Good or bad.'”

By then, his game had evolved into a rough version of what we see today. “Some people said I seemed Brazilian,” he says. “I understand where they’re coming from. Because English players don’t typically play like I do.”

He had just turned 14 when Manchester City made an offer. Moving there was his third journey. “The hardest one,” he says. “Could I handle that next step? And obviously, I handled it very well.”

Sancho was a star for Man City’s youth teams. ‘I was standing out, week in and week out. I felt it was time to seek another challenge,’ he says.

“The team sheet,” Michael Zorc says. He smiles. “It’s my best argument.”

He’s explaining how Dortmund manages to get tomorrow’s stars to spurn some of world’s biggest clubs and come to the Ruhr Valley. “They know we are not afraid to use young talent,” he says. “I tell them, ‘Look at our team sheets. You will play!’ And not in a cup game against a second-division team, but important games against Schalke, Moenchengladbach, Bayern. In the Champions League.”

By 17, Pulisic was on Dortmund’s senior team. When Mario Gotze was 17, he was playing every week. Ousmane Dembele, now with Barcelona, had turned 19 when he came to Dortmund in 2016. Jurgen Klopp’s unheralded Dortmund team that upset Bayern Munich in 2011 had an average age of 22. “On 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon,” Zorc says, referencing the usual Bundesliga start time, “we typically have three, four, five players under 20.” Zorc wanted Sancho to be the next.

One of football’s most adept executives, Zorc has made a virtue out of necessity. Dortmund won the Champions League in 1997, a stunning apotheosis for a working-man’s club. By 2004, though, it had spent itself into bankruptcy. If not for a bridge loan of two million Euros from Bayern Munich, and then a crucial vote by investors in March, 2005, that ratified a restructuring plan, it would have been dropped into the nether reaches of German football, and without the financial capacity to return.

Frightened into frugality, Dortmund has since operated far more prudently. The home dressing room lacks the luxuries that even smaller clubs routinely offer. Players don’t even get a cubicle, just four metal hooks for their street clothes and accessories. A wooden bench runs the length of room like in a sauna, with a rubber-covered floor beneath. If the hair dryers, which are permanently installed beneath the small mirror at one end, look like remnants from the 1970s, it’s because they are.

Sancho joins a front line of Marcus Rashford, Raheem Sterling and Harry Kane for England.

Even with one of the largest stadiums in Europe, Dortmund’s earning capacity doesn’t come close to matching that of the world’s biggest clubs. Its fans can’t afford the ticket prices that most of its Champions League competitors get. Nearly 30,000 standing-room places in Signal Iduna Park cost under 20 euros. Even the priciest seats top out at 60.

Like many small clubs, Dortmund generates revenue by selling players to the giants. The difference is, it also wants to successfully compete against them. So Zorc combs the world for young talent. He hopes his discoveries will make their most dramatic progress at the end of their teens and the start of their twenties, while they’re wearing black and yellow. Then he’ll sell them to a bigger club at a sizeable profit. These days, Dortmund’s alumni association would field a competitive team in nearly any league in Europe: Bayern’s Robert Lewandowski, Arsenal’s Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, Man City’s Ilkay Gundogan, Barcelona’s Dembele, Chelsea’s Pulisic, Japan and Real Zaragoza’s Shinji Kagawa. Klopp took many of those players to the Champions League final in 2013. And Sancho was watching.

Sancho had shaken off homesickness and raced through the Manchester City youth program after arriving there in 2015. In the summer of 2017, director of football Txiki Begiristain offered a professional contract. Begiristain assumed it was pro forma, a done deal. Who turns down Man City?

But Sancho wasn’t convinced. The world’s greatest collection of forwards was already fighting for playing time under Guardiola: Raheem Sterling and Leroy Sane, Sergio Aguero and Gabriel Jesus. “The opportunity, I didn’t see it,” Sancho says.

And while Dortmund was noticing Sancho, Sancho had been noticing Dortmund. He saw that Pulisic was playing regularly. He knew that Dortmund competed in Europe nearly every season. He hadn’t been there, but when he Googled the city, Borussia Dortmund came up as the top attraction. “I thought of it as an opportunity to show the world who I am and what I can do,” he said. “I thought of it like just another away trip. ‘I just need to go away and play football.'”

The deal Zorc and Beguristain negotiated called for a price of seven million euros, with a clause that gave Manchester City 15 percent of the profit from a future sale and a first-refusal option. Dortmund gave him the same No. 7 shirt that Dembele had worn. “That surprised me,” Sancho said, but it also gave him confidence. As a 17-year-old in 2017-18, he started seven games and came on as a substitute in five more. His first goal in any senior competition came against Bayer Leverkusen on April 21, 2018.

Sancho’s progression has been so rapid, it’s hard to believe that goal happened only 18 months ago. He added 12 more goals and 14 assists last year, helping Dortmund finish second in the Bundesliga, a point behind Bayern Munich. Under Favre, whose idea of perfect football is Brazil’s 1970 World Cup team, Dortmund plays a free-flowing style that enables Sancho to show far more creativity than he would for another German side. “We can play very active football because we have players like Jadon,” Favre says. “He can play short, he can play long. He can play with one touch. He can dribble in front of the goal, he can use his head. He destabilizes the other team.”

Sancho is still learning, like any teenager. He makes mistakes. Accustomed to watching young players develop, Dortmund’s supporters shrug them off. That’s not the reaction he’d be getting if he’d stayed in Manchester. “There’s just a lot of pressure in England,” he says. “The media is so hard on young players. If you have not a good game, it’s like you’re not ready, you’re not good enough. Germany is relaxed. I think a young player needs that.”

Sancho played for England in the UEFA Nations League in June. By the time he reported back to Dortmund, he was a full-fledged star. “It isn’t just that he made the team, but that he continues to build on it,” said teammate Thomas Delaney. “I would almost call it a privilege to watch Jadon every day in training. It’s spectacular. He does things with the ball I’ve never seen before. If I tried to do what he does, I’d hurt myself.”

Will Sancho leave Dortmund after this season for a Premier League club? When asked, he smiles and says he’ll do what seems right to him no matter what the expectations dictate.

It’s a quiet night in Dortmund. But then, what other kind is there?

Zorc grew up there. He spent his entire 17-year senior career playing for Dortmund as a central midfielder. Now he has placed the success of the club in the hands of players who can’t legally drink a beer in the United States. In that situation, he understands, dull is desirable. “There’s no nightlife,” he confirms. “No distractions. It’s not Las Vegas, not Berlin, not London. You have to go 100 kilometers for anything.” That allows young players to focus on their football. If Sancho fritters away his evenings playing Fortnite after the occasional ice cream, well, Zorc knows he could be doing far worse somewhere else.

Eventually, Sancho will want more, on and off the field. Lewandowski ultimately left for Munich. So did Gotze, though he returned. Aubameyang and Gundogan moved on to the Premier League, and Dembele for Barcelona. They were replaced by the next generation of hot prospects, the likes of Pulisic and Sancho. Pulisic now plays for Chelsea, a deal that enhanced Zorc’s budget by $73 million. As he was leaving, perhaps the next great American prospect — Gio Reyna, Claudio’s son, who turns 17 next month — arrived. And hidden away in Dortmund’s youth program, a 14-year-old named Yousouffa Moukoko is scoring goals by the dozen.

Soon enough, too, Sancho will be gone. It almost happened last summer, after Manchester United made its intentions known. But Zorc advised Sancho that the time wasn’t yet right, and Sancho agreed. In August, Sancho signed an extension through 2022 that pays him more than 200,000 euros a week, but nobody is under the illusion that he will finish the contract. This season in the Bundesliga is almost certain to be his last.

Sancho reflects on his decision to move to Dortmund. ‘Could I handle that next step? And obviously, I handled it very well,’ he says.

On this particular quiet night in Dortmund, Sancho has just been chosen to represent England for Euro 2020 qualifying matches against Bulgaria and Kosovo. Unlike his first senior selection, when he was expecting to be chosen for the U-21s, this one was a foregone conclusion. Very quickly, Sancho has become the best sort of problem for England manager Gareth Southgate, whose front line of Marcus Rashford, Raheem Sterling and Harry Kane will need to make room.

Sancho is the only England player who hasn’t played in the Premier League. Until Kieran Trippier left Spurs for Atletico Madrid before this season, he was the only one not playing in England. But that hasn’t hampered his international advancement. “I don’t see a negative at all,” Southgate said recently. “Jadon’s playing before 80,000 fans at Dortmund every week. That brings huge pressure. We want our players to be feeling that intensity.”

Sancho ended up scoring twice in England’s 5-3 victory over Kosovo. That set the English media on its latest frenzy about which Premier League team he will be headed to next summer. In recent months, he has been linked not only with Man United but also Man City, Arsenal, Tottenham, Chelsea and Liverpool. He’d be open to the idea of playing in England but insists it isn’t something he needs to do, not now. That’s a point that Frederik Obasi, one of two South London brothers who represent Sancho, made before the summer. “Everyone is talking ‘England, England, England,'” he said. “But why do they assume he has to go there? There are other leagues and other clubs that would also make sense for Jadon at this point.”

For a player on the cusp of worldwide stardom, spurning an offer from one of the Premier League’s top clubs would seem counterintuitive. By next summer, he’ll be 20: a proven England international, and one of the biggest stars in the sport. Why wouldn’t he want to compete in the world’s best and most remunerative league, coming home as a superstar to a place where friends and family could watch him? To go anywhere else would be to defy logic.

Sancho smiles and says he’ll do what seems right to him, no matter what expectations might dictate. Believe him. He has done it before.

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