#why you did that to corbyn

[knapptapp]

Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader

WC: 950

You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you

Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader

A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment

“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”

“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.

Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.

Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.

“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”

You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.

“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”

“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.

James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”

“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.

“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.

“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh fuck off.”

James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.

“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”

“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”

“Horrible color.”

“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”

“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.

“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”

“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.

“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.

He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.

Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.

“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”

“Like what?”

“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.

“Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.

“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.

“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.

You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.

“Truth.”

“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”

Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.

“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.

“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.

“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll

“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.

“Not at all.”

“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.

“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.

The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.

[toaarcan]

I need the anti-voting crowd to understand that not voting isn't going to cause the Democrats to take a long, hard, look in the mirror and suddenly decide that they need to swing left to appeal to more leftists.

When these centre-left parties lose, they get more centrist. They try to broaden their appeal and make themselves as appealing to as many people as possible.

The example I'll point to is my local centre-left party, Labour, who are currently poised on the brink of one of the largest victories they've ever had. By the time you read this, it may have already happened, election day is today.

Labour have been drifting rightwards on several fronts for a while now. One of the biggest examples of this was the 1997 elections. After repeatedly failing to defeat Margaret Thatcher and then subsequently losing once to John Major, Tony Blair became the new leader of the party, and reinvented it as New Labour, adopting a much more neoliberal economic approach and promptly got a historic victory.

Now there are a lot of reasons why Blair won as hard as he did, and I don't have time to break them all down, but at the end of the day, their adoption of neoliberal economic policies worked out enormously for them. Not only did Blair romp to victory, he maintained most of his popularity afterwards, reigning for an entire decade before finally stepping down in 2007.

Labour is also a handy demonstrator of why they don't lean leftwards after a defeat, because they actually did try that and it failed spectacularly.

After Ed "Wrong Milliband, wrong Ed" Milliband's dismal performance in the 2015 election, Labour actually decided to try and lean leftwards again, and selected Jeremy Corbyn as their leader.

Unfortunately, Corbyn was useless. Many a Brit will accuse him of not even actually wanting to be Prime Minister, instead just wanting to sit opposite an actual PM and oppose them. They're probably right.

The 2017 snap election, called by Theresa May, should've been an open goal. May was embattled largely by her own party, many of whom were strongly opposed to her attempt at a moderate Brexit deal. She was an unelected PM, chosen by internal party mechanisms after David "Bae of Pigs" Cameron fucked off post-Brexit disaster. The massive, and ever-growing pro-EU voting block were entirely unrepresented. The Liberal Democrats, normally a bit of a thorn in Labour's side in terms of hoovering up more left-wing votes, were still trying to recover from the massive hit in popularity they took after the disasterous Tory-Lib Dem coalition. Blood in the water for any left-wing party worth its salt.

Yeah so Corbyn fucked it up and lost. While May only ended up weakening her position, losing 13 seats and dropping below a majority, the Tories still got their largest vote share since the 80s and held onto power for grim death.

Corbyn stuck around, still didn't get any better, and promptly lost the 2019 election in a landslide. To this guy.

People didn't vote for Corbyn. In the media, he was pilloried as a communist and an antisemite (and he did such a terrible job of fighting that second one that to this day I still have no idea whether it was true or just a smear campaign), and his determination to take the high road only made him look weak and avoidant to the public. His policies got little attention and his campaigning was likely deliberately weak, shooting for the role of opposition rather than government.

It also didn't help that the people for whom Labour wasn't Left Wing Enough still didn't turn out. They still voted Green or didn't vote at all.

To the party itself, though, the message was clear. They'd gone leftward, and it had backfired spectacularly.

Corbyn promptly fucked off at long last and was replaced by Starmer, who is, as expected, another milquetoast neoliberal in most regards. And now, with the polls open for the 2024 election, and Starmer projected to win by such a massive margin that the term "Supermajority" has been thrown around like it's an inevitability, Labour has been engaging in what's been called a "purge" of its leftmost members, with most of Corbyn's base, including Corbyn himself, being barred from running as Labour candidates and instead having to run as independents.

Now, that might horrify you as a leftist, but to them, it's a course-correction. Corbyn and co. represent an era of failure for the party, where a leftward lean cost them two elections.

To swing back around to American politics, if the Democrats lose because of voter apathy, they aren't going to take it as a sign that they need to appeal to the left. They're going to take it as a sign that their appeal wasn't broad enough and they need more outreach to right-wingers.

They already lost in part due to voter apathy in 2016, they didn't move left to compensate. They found the Most Neoliberal Average Establishment Guy they could, rallied behind him, and it partially paid off for them. They at least won.

You want a more leftist Democrat party? Not voting isn't going to get you that. In fact, it will most likely have the exact opposite effect.

[bitterkarella]

JK Rowling: hello children Rowling: i want you to sssay hello to Rowling: graham lineham Lineham: [wearing foil hat] free masons run the country Rowling: he'sss got sssome great ideasss you should hear

Poe: joanne you don't need to bring him here Poe: like, you really don't Rowling: he hass thingsss to sssay and you're ALL going to hear them Poe: this is really kind of off topic for us here Rowling: EVERYONE will hear them

Rowling: ssssee, yearsss ago i disssmisssed graham lineham'ssss babble as the bad opticsss ravingsss of a lunatic Rowling: but now that the overton window hass sshifted Rowling: i'm proud to sssay thessse bad opticsss ravingsss are quite good actually!

Rowling: go ahead, graham, tell them what you told me Lineham: trans people produce no great films, no music, no art Lineham: they're incapable of doing this basic human thing because they're subhuman Lineham: untermensch, if you will Rowling: isssn't he great?

Lineham: trans books are always universally panned because of their incoherence Billy Martin: Hailey Piper: Eve Harms: Gretchen Felker-Martin: Joe Koch: M. Lopes da Silva: Arden Powell: Lor Gislason: Julya Oui: LC von Hessen: GE Woods: Michelle Belanger: Rain Corbyn: SA Chant:

FT Catulla: Viktor Athelstan: Meagan Hotz: Ziggy Schutz: Rose Sable: WN Derring-Judith: Charles Maria Tor: Devaki Devay: Dayna Ingram: Ori Jay: Ai Burton: Gabriel Valentine: Cosmin-Mihai Birsan: Jei D Marcade: Rhiannon Rasmussen: Max Turner: Taylor J Pitts: Vincent Endwell:

Bri Crozier: Theo Hendrie: Derek des Anges: Briar Ripley Page: Winter Holmes: gaast: Maya Deane: Charles-Elizabeth Boyles: Layne van Rensburg: Amanda M Blake: May Leitz: Alison Rumfitt: Rivers Solomon: Lillian Boyd: Torrey Peters: Taliesin Neith: Daniel M. Lavery: Joss Lake: Aubrey Wood: Jonah Wu:

Daphne du Maurier: Patricia Highsmith: Franz Kafka: Kafka: wait Kafka: why did the camera pan to me

Barker: oh you know why haha Poe: clive Kafka: why Kafka: [hugging blåhaj] i don't know what you mean

[peaky-shelby]

NEW ROMANTICS | MBAPPÉ [6]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

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» chapter 6: Poker

» writer's note: well talk about a stressful update. BUT HEY I DID IT. not gonna say a lot up here. See you on the other side. OH if you see Green link, click on them 🥲 my apologies for what you are about to go through.

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113 @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon @formula101x @neymarloverxxx @cepolar @freespirit-51 @marialikescherries

PLAY MUSIC

Taylor slipped away from him as soon as Marquinhos called his name. She took away with her the electricity, leaving him with just an unusual sense of emptiness. Marquinhos drew closer.

“What is the matter with you?” He yelled. Kylian was pacing back and forth on the hall, trying to control his emotions while his heart raced in the same rhythm as the havoc of his mind. Marquinhos had to slap his shoulder in order to get him focused because he looked like he had just downloaded 10 cups of caffeine all at ones “Kylian!”

“Je ne sais pas!” he snapped, smacking Marcos’ hands away from him in annoyance “Je ne sais pas! Mais cette femme me rend fou ! Elle ne fait que mentir, elle ment toujours, Marcos !”

“Tranquilles Kylian!” he ordered “I don’t know what your deal is with her but you have to get your shit together quick-“

“Why?” he shouted. “Who is she?” Marcos never answered him so Kylian made a step forward. “Did you know she played professionally? is that why she has you and Galtier wrapped around her finger-“

“Whatever is going on with you, you need to fix it before it’s too late! You hear me?”

“I wanna know the truth!”

“The truth is that she is a smart as hell woman that is trying to help all of us and I’m surprised she’s still here after all the shit you’ve put her through!” he poked him on the shoulder, pointing at him “Look at yourself!” he said the last sentence like he was disgusted “what happened to you? You came back from Qatar a different man- since when do you treat woman like that? Do you even recognize yourself in the mirror anymore because I don’t? What is it? Greed? Insecurities? Jealousy?” Kylian couldn’t look at him in the eye, his gaze kept moving around the room finally settling on a window where he could slightly see his own reflection on. “You’re turning into a madman!” He didn’t like what he saw in the mirror, he didn’t like this version of him at all. He was drunk on anger and desperation, he was high on self insecurity and he could see it in his eyes. “Swear to god, this is your last warning!” he said and left.

Kylian moved back a little, his hand was itching, his fist begging to come in contact with anything and it did. He punched the wall, drawing back quickly in pain. A few moments later Hakimi was by his side, holding him by the arm. He didn’t even know if he had been there the entire time but now he was pushing him back and dragging him from the nearest exit. He practically pushed him out in the balcony and Kylian felt the chilling cold on his skin, violently reminding him who and where he was. He gripped on the railing. And for a while neither of them said anything.

“I’m scared for you Ky!” said Hakimi. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into you. I’m trying but I can’t- it can’t be just her. What is it?”

“Can’t you see it?” he asked, yelling. He looked at his friend “I don’t know how she does it but she always does. It’s her eyes- she looks at you and you feel like the smallest person in the world. I look at her and all I see are my mistakes.” He pointed at his fingers while he spoke “The shot I didn’t take. The pass I didn’t give. The chance I didn’t see. Always down to the detail with her, isn’t it?” Hakimi’s eyes expressed a sort of pitifulness they give you when they know you are being unreasonable. He wanted to help his friend but even he was afraid to draw closer. Watching your friend falling apart right in front of you eyes, it was never easy. “And it’s driving me insane! The way she can play with my mind like that. The way she sees right through it and the closer I let her see, the more she is…” he tried to find the right word “poising me. Turning me into this-“ he stopped “That’s what’s worse! Cause Marcos is right! I don’t even recognize myself anymore!”

This was a cry for help. It’s amazing how much a person can get in your head when you let them. Hakimi went closer, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder while Kylian looked at the street. He knew that’s all his friend needed for now; silence.

“And then…” his voice trailed off

“Then what?”

Kylian closed his eyes. He imagined her against the wall, her figure in contrast to his. Her skin in contact to his, he made a fist with his hand trying to replicate what it felt like holding her but all he held was emptiness and cold air. Was it poison or just the stinking feeling of alcohol cleaning his wounds? He couldn’t understand.

He turned around to go back to the ‘party’. He wanted to erase every thought, feeling, doubt of the last 20 minutes. Hakimi stepped in front of him to stop him.

“Where are you going?”

“I just need a drink.” He said and moved around him.

PLAY MUSIC ♪

Colorful but dark lights filled the room, smell of smoke and alcohol. Kylian made his way to the bar, passing in between the dancing figures. The room was much more crowded now, everyone was either tipsy or already wasted. Footballers, models, journalists. A dangerous mix. All of them dancing together like they were choreographed.

And she was in the distance, next to her loyal friend Trish and Sergio Ramos. She saw him too their eyes meeting for a split second before she got closer to his teammate, on her tiptoes. He saw her whispering something in his ear, Ramos hand slipping on her lower back, bringing her closer to him just so he’d listen better. He wanted to interrupt, he wanted to get in between them. His eyes glaring at them while every fiber of his being called him to ran to them like she was the ball and she was about to be stolen. The music was like a void in his mind, the room felt like it was getting smaller, trapping him in his thoughts. He made a step forward, he was stopped just as quick. A hand reaching for his. He looked to his side. Hakimi.

“Don’t!” he warned.

A moment later she was exiting the venue with Ramos by her side, whispering something in her ear and Trish on Ramos’s other side. They were leaving together. Why did he care?

He went to the bar, asked for a shot of vodka before asking for the second, the third, before the room started spinning, before Verratti came up to him saying something about taylor and a journalist. He couldn’t follow. Before he danced on the dance floor with a woman he never met in his life. A woman he didn’t have to impress, a woman that was already in awe of him, a woman that reflected his greatness in her eyes and held him like he was gold. Touched him like he was priceless at the back of his car. Kissed him like he was a toy that she’d leave like he was just another number when she was done.

But he wasn’t satisfied by it, he thought he would be but he wasn’t. He was as lonely and as angry with himself as he was before, as he had been for almost a month. And as he laid on the backseats with the random woman on his side, Taylor’s lips still ghosted over his. The picture of seeing her and Ramos together still flickered in his mind. All the things he said to her, echoed in his head and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up by the words he said to her or the alcohol. He thought of all that while He looked at himself on the review mirror, his eyes were so dark, so blank. So unfamiliar to him. What was he turning into?

TAYLOR’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

PLAY MUSIC

Taylor had been silent for the whole ride, while Trish and Sergio flirted like high school kids at the front. She’d always find herself stroking the places that he touched with his skin or his breath. Her wrist, the skin under her eyes. The back of her thumb passed over her lips, the lips that he never kissed but he still somehow managed to make wonder what he’d taste like. She didn’t recognize this feeling, she didn’t like it, it was dangerous.

Trish entered first and went straight to the toilet because as she said she was gonna pee her pants if she didn’t go in.

When she got in the house she sat on her bed and then quickly fell backwards on the sheets, closing her eyes. Then opening them again because every time she closed them all she could see were his black heavy eyes. Trish came out mumbling about something that Taylor couldn’t pay attention in. A few seconds later Trish was sitting on the edge of the bed, slapping her thigh to get her back on earth. Taylor sat up, looking at her friend for some compassion.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

She was trying to form sentence but no one coherent thought would come out of her lips. Where would she even start? “I need a drink.”

“We were just at a party!” Trish reminded her, narrowing her eyes “with free drinks.”

“I need like 10 shots of tequila in a bottle of wine this big” she showed it with her hands and got up. Searching in the cupboards for some alcohol. Trish watched confused, wondering why they even left the party if she was just gonna get wasted here.

“Is this allowed in your condition?”

Taylor laughed, then gasped ones she found the bottle she was looking for. She didn’t have glasses so she used the coffee cups on the counter.

“My condition?” she repeated, still laughing. “You know what’s not allowed in my condition? Kylian, he is the absolute worst for my condition.” She opened the wine aggressively. Poured the wine on the cups and drank hers before she even got the other one to Trish. “How-“ she swallowed “how can he be such fucking asshole? And then just-“ she stopped herself, refilling her cup.

Trish raised her eyebrow, almost smiling at her friend “and then what?” she asked. Trish took pride in her talent of picking on energies and tensions. She knew the moment she laid her eyes on them. Taylor drank the second cup in one breath. Trish had to get up and take the bottle from her, then she helped her find her was back on the bed, making her sit on the edge. Taylor looked blankly at her desk.

“then his eyes.” She finally said, dropping her entire body back on the sheets again. “they’re so dark all the time.”

Trish laid next to her, balancing her elbow on the mattress and her head on her hand. “sexy isn’t, it?”

“Shut up.” She said quickly making her laugh. Trish dropped on her back as well, both of them staring at the ceiling.

“I saw the way he looked at you. Just before you threw yourself at Serg.”

Taylor peaked at her, opening her one eye and raising her eyebrow “Serg?”

“Shush! Not the point. Tell me what happened between you two.”

Taylor shook her head slightly, closed her eyes “I’m not sure.” She bit on her lips, the same haunted memory returning in her head. Was he going to kiss her if Marcos didn’t show up? Did she want him to? “But I have a feeling… it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

TAYLOR’S APARTMENT – DAY

Taylor woke up by the morning light. Not the alarm. Which was the first thing that made her feel like something was wrong. She lifted her head from the covers, looking around to realize where she was and what day, month, year it was. She reached for her phone.

“FUCK!” She dropped it as soon as she saw the time. Jumped of the bed and looked around the messy room for her clothes, anything that she could wear. She didn’t even check herself in the mirror. She just let her hair down, hoping it wasn’t that bad and put on her sneakers. Trish woke up by the banging and running around, murmuring.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m late.”

“You’re always late its fine.”

“he’s gonna kill me.”

She grabbed her keys and she left.

TRAINING CAMPUS – DAY

“nice of you to show up Seven!” said Marquinhos.

Kylian’s walk was slow, everything in his body hurt. His eyes, his legs, his stomach. Training was the last thing he needed. He ignored Marco’s comment and took of his jacket leaving it on the benches and walked over to the field. He had changed on the car after leaving the girl he spent the night with at her house. He thank god he had a left over uniform there. He started doing his stretching, raising his leg up to his stomach. Verratti walked up to him, doing his stretches next to him.

“You’re not the only one late.”

“What?” Kylian’s mind was too much of a mess to follow or listen.

“Wilock hasn’t showed up yet.”

Kylian’s eyes lifted in worry. His first instinct was look around for Ramos. He caught him on the other side of the field laughing about something with Messi. Wasn’t he the one that drove her home last night? He started running to him, making it look like he was just jogging for training. He stood in between Messi and him, listening to the conversation while he stretched his arms.

Sergio nodded as acknowledgment “you look like shit.” He laughed. Always a bully.

“had a rough night, Amigo?” Leo joked.

Since when were they Amigos? He was tired of pretending everything was fine after the world cup. Sometimes he straight up just wanted to his him in the face- wait, why was he admitting that. He looked up at Sergio, ignoring Messi completely.

“What about you, did you have fun last night?”

Ramos narrowed his eyes. He was confused. He let out a short laugh, shrugging his shoulders “Had some fun, yes.”

Kylian nodded. Suddenly he had no idea what to ask or perhaps how to ask it. Then the whistle was heard in the distance. Marquinhos gathered the entire team in the middle of the field for the beginning of the simulation. This time, team captains were Marquinhos and Leo. Thank God Kylian was on Marcos’s team with Hakimi and Sergio was with Leo. He took a deep breath and put every single one of his thoughts on pause. Although as fate would have it he fought a lot with Sergio to get the ball from him. He’d always end up somehow next to him, drippling and fouling him even.

“Chill down Man!” said Sergio while he got up after what would be the second time that Kylian knocked him down. Kylian mumbled a short apology while he distanced himself from him and continued to play. Taylor still hadn’t showed up.

GALTIER’S OFFICE – DAY

Galtier was reading her notes. He had his glasses on, silence filling the room while he read. She sat across from him. She kept glancing at him, expecting a reaction, anything that would give away if he agreed with her or not. She already felt bad about being late, she didn’t want to get another strike on the same day. Eventually he took of his glances, leaving them on the desk as well as her documents. Taylor gave him a smile when he looked up at her.

“Group therapy? Is this some sort of prank.”

She didn’t answer.

“You want me to put 20 adults in a room for group therapy?”

“Not all of them. Just 3 for starters.”

“Which would be?”

She hesitated “Number 10, 7 and 30.”

Galtier laughed “you want Lionel Messi and Kylian Mbappe to have a couples therapy?” She didn’t answer. Smiling weakly, so she wouldn’t offend him. Was it really funny when your entire team was falling apart because of lack of chemistry? “good god you’re serious.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I am”

“Number 7 and 10 are getting better along.”

“Do they? I mean it doesn’t seem like I wanna kill Kylian every second of everyday but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to-“ she murmured under her breath. Galtier only caught half of what she said. Narrowing his eyes. “Point is!” she said raising her voice “their chemistry on the field it’s still messy and when the big 3 can’t get along your team is bound to fall apart. It’s like you have cliques in your team. Hakimi, Verratti and Mbappé. Messi and Neymar. They need to break out of their comfort zone.”

“And that’s all in your reports as well?”

“Yes sir. You’ll have them tomorrow.”

“Finally.” He mumbled “ok fine, bring me the individual reports and we’ll discuss it again tomorrow. Meanwhile you need to give Julie your personal information for the trip in Doha and Riyadh and be here early tomorrow so we can announce your role to the boys.”

“Hm?” she raised her eyes. She had forgotten about that last part.

“You can start coaching them accordingly.” He explained.

“right. Yes. Of course.”

“Listen to me closely Ms. Wilock. The match against Al Nssr is especially important. You understand why.”

“You have three of the best players in the world and you are scared Ronaldo will kick your ass anyway.” She said before she hadn’t even thought that it might have been inappropriate. She still had her habit of saying exactly what was on her mind with no regret.

“That’s not exactly how I would have worded it Ms. Wilock.” He paused, eyeing her closely “but as long as you get the point.”

She smiled “I do sir.”

OUTSIDE TRAINING AREA / TRAINING CAMPUS – DAY

Taylor watched them playing, trying to avoid Kylian on purpose. She’d look at Sergio or Leo, anything to keep her attention away from the guy that had haunted her last night. She smiled as Marquinhos ran to her when he saw her, holding a football on his one hand.

“You wanna join for the second half?” he asked. She didn’t expect that question, she frowned. “We are almost done. I mean you don’t have to pressure yourself but-“ he took a quick look at the boys and then back at her “my team is losing.”

She laughed, letting down all her bags. “Are you that desperate?”

“Come on” he laughed along with her, smiling. “Fabian just walked out. I’m missing a player.”

“Why do I feel like you have something else planned?”

He shrugged “It’s just 20 minutes. What could happen in 20 minutes?”

She thought about it, crossing her arms. Maybe a quick game was all she needed. “Just because you are my favorite one.”

She took of her jacket, dropping it on a set of chairs and lifted her sweatpants up to her knee. She pulled her hair in quick bun while she walked with him back on the field. She took a quick glance at Kylian, catching the tension in his eyes expecting him to say something but he didn’t. He backed away and stood behind Hakimi instead.

“Hey that’s not fair!” Neymar stepped forward “what’s this?”

“It’s a substitution. Fabian is out, she’s taking his place-“

“Hold on you didn’t say we could have her!” said Ramos, stepping forward as well with a smile on his face “I’d have taken her on our team.”

“Wanna fight for me Ramos?” she asked, smirking.

“Damn right I do!” he answered quickly.

“Merde” Kylian murmured behind his teeth, rolling his eyes. Hakimi saw that and pushed him slightly to move away from the crowd. Taylor took a quick look to see which players were wearing the blue flannels that gave away they were on Marcos’ team. She noticed Kylian was wearing one too. Her eyes stayed on him for a while as he and Hakimi were discussing something. He saw her, nodding to her direction and that gave her somewhat of a relief because it wasn’t a rude nod. It was like he was telling her ‘Let’s just focus on the game’ and she liked that. She wanted that too. So, the game started.

She was there mostly as a midfielder, running and stealing the ball from whoever she could. That earned her a few strikes from the opposite team when she would try to tackle them. But the vibe was different from the first time she played with them. Like she was actually part of the team. Marcos’ team was losing 1-2. And her presence didn’t make a lot of difference at first. She and Kylian would look at each other from time to time but there was zero communication between them.

During the last 5 minutes the ball landed on Kylian’s feet and he ran with it from their end of the field to the others. He was swiftly tackled by Ektike in the middle of the field, who stretched his leg out and kicked the ball away from him. The ball was supposed to go to Messi but Taylor jumped in between stealing the pass for herself. Ramos, as a defender ran towards her but she kicked the ball to the left side of the field to escape all the defenders until she realized how close to the net she was.

She calculated the angle, her mind spinning in insane speed, while she counted the possibilities this could down. She counted the defenders in front of her. There was one possibility that she could take the shot and it would land on the net but it was a risk. She looked up, Kylian was on the middle. She kicked the ball up at Kylian and he dropped on the ground, sliding and kicking it for it to go the net just in between the goalkeeper’s legs. He got up instantly, screaming in happiness for his accomplishment while the rest of his teammates ran to him.

Taylor stood watching them while they all got on top of each other. Laughing and messing around with Kylian. She smiled. She didn’t feel alone, if anything she felt proud while she watched them, these were gonna be her boys no matter what and she came in the sudden realization that it wasn’t a matter of if she’d let go of her blog. There was no chance in the world she could do both things, there was no way she could stand hurting any of them again. She felt a sudden warmth under her eye. It was a tear, rolling down her cheek like a confession. She wiped it away quickly, only then realizing Kylian was coming forward. With an enigmatic expression on his face, she wasn’t sure what she wanted but the closer he’d get the more the memories started coming back. The more she wanted to step away, expecting a wall to be behind her and him trapping her again. Instead he lifted his hand, waited for her to shake it. She hesitated, glancing between his hand and his eyes before finally holding it. The skin to skin contact, lingering a little longer. Suddenly she was back at the roof holding his hand, or in the bathrooms the first day when he grabbed her arm, or last night when he held her wrist. But all these memories and all the bitterness seemed to be replaced by the sweetness and honesty of this moment. Looking in each other’s eye, shaking each other’s hands. Perhaps for a little too long while she tried to decipher the look in his eyes until Verratti came and called him to get back on the game.

Their hands slipping away from each other.

She was swept off her feet by behind by someone. She twisted her head to see who it was, her expression softening when she saw Neymar. He let her down and she turned around, hugging him from his neck. “I’m sorry for that.” She mumbled in his chest.

“Hate it when you play for the other team.” He said, pulling back a little and she looked in his eyes. That’s not what she was apologizing for.

“never again.” She smiled and they both ran back on the field for the last few minutes of the match.

LOCKER ROOMS HALLWAY – LATER

Taylor was so sweaty, all she wanted to do was go back home and have the warmest most chilling shower she could. And she was so tired, her headache getting worse by the minute.

She made a turn to the room with the spare clothes. Puffing and blowing out air from her chest, while she rubbed her temple, feeling the sweat coming from her hair on her hand. When she entered the room she stopped on her tracks. Kylian. Naked from the waist up.

“Sorry-“ she said quickly, closing her eyes and turning on her heel to leave.

“No, no. I’m done.” He said, putting on his shirt and walking to the exit. Taylor turned around again, not knowing that he’d be behind her now and knocking on him with a jolt. She stepped back quickly, her hands barely brushing on his chest. She moved away just as fast, looking at the closets for a spare shirt. He observed her while she tried to choose a shirt that probably fit her. He knew she wasn’t going to talk to him, so he contemplated leaving. He even turned around, ready to leave her alone but it was eating him alive. So, he maneuvered back to her.

“Thanks for earlier. That was a good pass.”

“hm” she said coldly. Picking out a shirt. He hated this coldness from her, he liked it more when she talked back at him or yelled. This was unfamiliar.

“I really didn’t think you’d do it.”

She looked at him when she headed for the exit. He stood on entrance so she was basically forced to acknowledge him. “That’s the difference between you and me, Kylian. You wouldn’t take the shot. I don’t let my personal issues get in the way of my game. Ever.”

He nodded, twisting his mouth and pursing his lips together. He looked at the floor. “Still part of you must have hit it because you hoped it would get on my face.” He tried to lighten the mood but all he got was a sigh and a roll of her eyes. She went around him to leave, he lifted his hand to hold her arm but he stopped midway, pulling his hand back before he touched her. “I’m sorry for last night.” That seemed to stop her. She stood in the empty hallways, examining him. There she was again, making him feel like the smallest person in the world. He couldn’t stand it and the urge to fight her again was coming back but he tried to ignore it by looking away- he failed. “Why you gotta keep doing that?” he snapped, finally asking her straightforward. But she wasn’t sure what she was doing. So, she knitted her eyebrows. And he motioned at her with his hand “Your eyes. You have this look like you are judging everything all the time. It’s frustrating.” She snorted, shaking her head. “Even now im trying to apologize and you’re always just-“

“Just what Kylian?” she asked, topping his voice and walking back to him “what do you expect? An apology is enough after all the shit you’ve put me through ever since I got here?” She stood under him. Her eyes bored into him. Reminding him his flaws, his shortcomings.

“Don’t do that…” he warned in a whisper, looking down at her. How was she the smaller of the two but he always felt falling short around her. He diverted his gaze at the walls, shielding his lips, biting them even. The familiar anger, only she could bring out, was rising. Burning his insides, he was trying so hard not to snap at her again, not to touch her. He had to lay against the doorframe, hold his hands in fists and keep them against the wall just to make sure he wouldn’t grab her again.

“Is that why you were so angry last night?” she asked, searching for his eyes “you couldn’t pretend anymore that I’m just a silly journalist.” She laughed bitterly “it dawned on you that maybe everything I’ve said to you until now, is true. You hate it, don’t you?” she asked the last question in a whisper, bitter voice “You could hide from it while you thought I was a high school player.” His eyes found hers and he saw that they were more brutal than ever. Like she actually hated him. Almost like she was trying to provoke him, see how far she could get him before he returned to his old ways. Like she wanted him to beg for mercy. She stepped closer, tilting her head upward “Can’t hide anymore”

“Defiantly not a high school player.” He agreed but even that came out in a disrespectful way “because you know exactly what you are doing in the field and out of it.” He leaned down, she stepped back and he stepped forward “you know exactly what you are doing to me.” She snorted again, awkwardly, twisting her head away from him. Making another step backwards, only so he’d make another forward “who’s hiding now?”

“Still as delusional as last night.”

“tell that to yourself a couple of times you might believe it” She reached the other side of the door. Her back bumping on it while Kylian kept his eyes as piercing as always. Suddenly he felt himself getting taller. She licked her back teeth her tongue, clenching her jaw. He raised his hands to remind her that he wasn’t touching her, that she could leave if she wanted to. “But I think I have some power over you as well after all.”

“Wouldn’t that make you feel better about yourself?”

“Nothing about you makes me feel better about myself” he spat, drawing closer “that’s the problem.” He confessed “if anything all I see when I look at you is everything I hate about myself—” he leaned down, his face hovering over hers “and I can’t understand if you’re doing it on purpose but it’s eating me alive.” his hands remained in distance but he still managed to shield her by holding on the walls “my failures, the pressure, the anticipation—” he lowered his head even more and for a moment he allows himself to believe that he can have her, he looked at her lips “I always seem to do the wrong thing, say the unforgivable because you push me to my limit without even trying.” Their thighs were touching now, he liked the contact “and I’m always torn between hating you for it and…” his voice trailed off. His last confession falling short. “Parfois, tout ce que je veux, c’est te serrer dans mes bras et te montrer à quel point je peux être bon. Parce qu’aucune femme, dans ma vie, ne m’a jamais fait ressentir ça.”

She had her eyes on him the entire time. The language barrier wasn’t as tall anymore. She had no idea what his words were but somehow, she understood exactly what she wanted to say and her mouth getting drier, the closer that he’d get to her. Realizing that he had shield her again, noticing the darkness in his eyes again. She shook her head, slowly, keeping her face down, to make sure he had no access to her lips. His breathing would fall on her ear now, warming it, because he was that close. “It’s not happening Kylian.”

“Why not?” he said in her ear.

Oh how weak his voice on her ear made her. How many shivers it sent on her entire body. Oh, how she hated it and loved it all the same. She tightened her entire expression, keep her head high but turned at the right side. That way he couldn’t really see her eyes. Not that he cared because all he was looking at was her neck.

And she wanted to tell him: cause I’m your coach, cause I’m JW and I really am the worst liar in the world. Because I would be risking everything just by looking at you the way that you are looking at me. But she didn’t and he leaned even closer, so much so that she could sense his lips moving against her ear. So much so that she had to remind herself repeatedly why this tension should remain unresolved. But a twisted part of her still wanted to touch him, kiss him.

“I couldn’t stand seeing you with Ramos last night” he admitted. “Same way I can’t stand when you analyze my playing, reminding me every time that I’m not good enough.” His lips brushed on her ear; her hair stuck on his lips. She straightened her head, their eyes meeting. Kylian leaned closer, waiting for permission. Their lips so close he could taste it.

“No because…” she whispered. He looked in her eyes. This was it. She’d either say it now or he’d find out with everyone else in the morning. She could be honest, first time that would happen between them, but she could do it. Kylian frowned waiting for her to continue.

Voices laughing coming from a distance in combination with fast steps let them know that the whole team was coming downstairs. They pulled away from each other automatically.

Taylor left before they could see her, sneaking into one of the bathroom stalls and locking the door. She lowered her entire body, holding on her face. “Fuck” she whispered. This was only the beginning of the day and she was scared to face the rest. She wasn’t one to let in her impulsive thinking, she always planned everything ahead. She learned the hard way that things don’t work out the way you want to and you must always have a back up plan but she was out of back up plans.

INSIDE GYM / TRAINING CAMPUS – AFTERNOON

Kylian hid on the gym. He wanted to distract himself, he wanted to stop thinking about her despite the spell that she had casted on him. Verratti came in, calling for him.

“Just hanged up with Ann. She says she’s looking into it.”

Kylian looked at Verratti while running on the treadmill, giving him the same confusing look, he gave him in the morning.

“Who’s Ann?”

“Man were you even listening to me last night?”

“I wasn’t listening to anything last night.”

“she’s a journalist. Says she can find dirt on Wilock.”

“Wait- what?” Kylian pressed the button to stop the thread mill getting down so he wouldn’t fall “you got a journalist into this?”

“Yeah man. She already got some nice information. You told me to go ahead with it, did you forget?”

Kylian closed his eyes trying to remember, he rubbed his forehead. He was surprised by his own Insolence. “She keeps saying she has a theory but she isn’t sure yet--”

“Let it go man!” he said calmly

“What?”

“Just let it go.” He repeated and reached down for his water bottle. “she’ll be gone in a week.”

“I mean it’s a already done now!”

Kylian eyed him. Shaking his head “why would you bring someone else into this? you might get us in trouble.” He asked.

“she’s a friend-”

“She’s a journalist. She’ll sacrifice your friendship for a headline in seconds.”

“She won’t do anything. She says she can dig shit up about JW as well. Kylian, you agreed to do this! What has gotten into you now?”

“I didn’t know what I was agreeing to last night, alright?” he huffed, breathing out curse words in anger “just don’t get me mixed up in this shit-” he grabbed his gym bag and his water bottle. Leaving.

The two kept looking at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Taylor was stealing glances at him while also trying to write her speech for the next day. Drawing over all the sentences she’d start because nothing was good enough. She didn’t even know where to start. The truth about JW or being their coach. Everything seemed wrong like she had betrayed them in the worst way and yet she didn’t want to apologize. Why would she apologize for doing her job as a journalist? She closed her eyes. Ones again lining over what she had written.

Kylian was taking a look whenever he could. The things Verratti had told him in combination of their little moment in the halls were brewing in his mind. He wanted to warn her for some reason, maybe because he knew that if anything bad happened, she was gonna blame it on him. Or maybe because he cared. He could feel her staring sometimes, her eyes practically scanning him but whenever he’d look at her, she’d look away in an instant. He’d notice her expression of lust for a couple short seconds.

Before she left, she came to speak to Marquinhos. At the point he and a few other members of the team were sitting in a circle on the field taking a break. Kimpembe, who was on her team during the game, started clapping.

“Wanna go another round?” he asked, laughing.

She dropped her head, shaking it “wouldn’t last playing another game with you.”

“Ky should be grateful; you saved that one.” Ektike said, being the one that almost ruined Kylian’s shot in the first place. Kylian was sitting with knees close to his chest and his arms laid on his knee bones, playing with a piece of grass in between his fingers. He tried to pretend like he focused with that, not answering to his comment. Taylor looked at him from the corner of her eye, smiling weekly at Ektike’s comment.

“He thanked me enough, don’t worry” she noted “in his way.” Kylian lifted his head to see her. He bit his lips so he wouldn’t smile. He didn’t expect it but she had a teasing grin on her face. “Marcos, can I speak with you for a second?”

“Sure!”

Marcos got up, dusting off the grass from his uniform as he stood. They walked away together, whispering in the distance about something. She looked worried and he looked like he was motivating her, rubbing her shoulder. Kylian stood up, copying Marcos’ movements and dusting away the grass. He started walking over to them, deciding that he wanted to tell Taylor the truth but they were done with their conversation before he could get to them. Taylor went towards the exit while Marquinhos was walking to Kylian’s direction.

“Where’d you think you’re going?”

“I need to speak to her.”

“No, you don’t. You need to finish your training; you have an hour left.”

“It will only take 5 seconds.”

“It never takes only 5 seconds with you. Back on the field now!”

Kylian couldn’t argue. He had already one strike too many with Marquinhos. He backed away, the frustration returning in his mind.

He was doing the exercise of Tiki-Taka with Hakimi, Ramos, Messi, Kimpembe and Neymar. Kylian was in the middle trying to get control of the ball while the others passed it around each other. He was getting tired and not enjoying it while the others seemed to take pleasure in his struggle. Especially Ramos, he was having a great laugh watching him suffer. He had been trying to for a while, his mind unable to focus when he almost had it but then he was pushed on the ground. Falling on his side. It was Ramos that pushed him. It was a gesture that otherwise he would have laughed away in good spirit. They always teased each other. But not today. He got up, getting in Ramos’ face-

“je vais te frapper au visage!” he said in a gruff voice. Ramos was still laughing, giving him a light push like he thought Kylian was messing around. The moment he touched his shoulder, Kylian slapped his hand off. That seemed to alarm Ramos, whose expression darkened and made a step closer to Kylian.

“What’s your deal man?”

“J'ai un problème avec ton visage!”

Ramos lowered his eyebrows “calm down kid—”

Hakimi launched himself forward and in between them to separate them. He pushed Kylian back while he pointed at Ramos like he was warning him “Call me kid one more time!” he yelled. Hakimi shushed him, pushing him on the other end of the field and holding both of his shoulders to keep him still. Marquinhos had seen what happened and was already at Ramos’ side, listening to their side of the story. Kylian knew he was done for, so he moved away and left practice.

When he went on the locker rooms, he found Verratti texting in his phone. Verratti’s eyes landed on him, a smirk on his lips.

“Did you know she played in Chelsea?”

Kylian didn’t sit around to hear more. He left, grabbing his bag and going to find her.

TAYLOR’S APARTMENT / BATHROOM – NIGHT

“Dad says she’s getting bigger.” Taylor yelled from inside the shower. The blue thin curtain separated her from Trish, who was doing her make up on the mirror above the sink.

“What did you expect? She’d stay 4, forever?”

“It’s still weird.” She mumbled “makes me feel older every year on her birthday.”

“That’s because you are actually getting older.” Said Trish while pouting her lips to put her lipstick on. Taylor pushed the curtain, opening it slightly for a second to throw water at her. Trish screamed and jumped, backing away “Goddamn you woman!” she yelled. “if you ruin my dress, I’m stealing yours.” She said and left the bathroom.

Trish started picking her last stuff to put on her bag. Taylor opened the curtain and covered herself with on of her white towels. And picked her hair up with another pink towel. She came out of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. She watched her friend getting ready, smiling.

“This reminds me of high school.”

Trish snorted, sitting on the bed and putting her shoes on. “some thing’s never change. No matter how hard I try to. You’re still letting me go to parties alone.”

“Ramos will be there. You’ll be fine.” She sang “You know I’d come if it wasn’t for work. Just be careful.”

“I will.” She sat up, making a spin around herself to show her friend her outfit. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful.”

Trish clapped and walked over to Taylor, placing her hand on her cheek. “You sure you’re gonna be, ok?”

“Gotta starts getting used to these lonely nights, no matter how much I miss you. Dad. Lily.” She smiled “I’ll be fine. But try not to have too much without me.”

“Can’t make any promises” Trish kissed her cheek and grabbed her jacket from the hanger behind the door. “don’t wait up for me. Love you.”

“Love you too” said taylor but she was already out of the door. A silent meow was heard coming from the floor. Taylor looked down only to find Luna pouring in front of her feet, head bumping her while pleading for food. “Gimmie a minute to change angel.” She said and walked back to the bathroom. She released her hair from the towel, her we strand falling on her shoulders, freezing her skin. She patted them with the towel, trying to dry them as much as she could before she used the drier.

Until there was a knock on the door.

She looked at the direction of the bedroom/living room.

She went to open the door. Her hand holding on the doorknob.

She turned it.

Opened it.

“Kylian?”

She didn’t have time to ask what he was doing here because he barged in. Talking about something she couldn’t understand. Like he was trying to warn her. She was trying to catch up with what he was saying but the shock of seeing him there in the first place in combination with the fact that she was naked under the towel made her freeze.

“…I just want you to know that if shit happens, I had nothing to do with it—”

“Kylian!” she tried but he kept going, mumbling something about Verratti and a journalist.

“He told half the team about it—” She looked around for her robe but she found it at her bed. And Kylian was standing in front of it, so that was not an option. He hadn’t even looked at her since he barged in. “She’s brutal taylor—”

“KYLLIAN!” She yelled, holding on the towel over her chest “What on earth are you talking about?” she questioned raising her voice. He finally turned his eyes on her, finally taking in her figure, finally realizing. His mouth fell shut, his mind going blank, he forgot why he was there in the first place. His eyes settled on her bare shoulders. They were slightly covered by her long hair. Not enough to keep him from wanting to touch them. She held on tighter on the towel, feeling his gaze deepening.

They locked eyes with each other, neither of them saying a thing.

PLAY MUSIC

He should have left, just as quick as he came in. he didn’t.

She should have told him to leave. Yelled at him even. She didn’t.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

That reminded him. He was here to tell her about Verratti. But that could wait until the morning.

There was a sort of silence that was loud enough for both, like it was saying everything for them while they looked at each other. Speechless. That was a first.

“Oh Kylian” she sighed, but it was more of a beg. She wasn’t sure what she was begging for but she was begging for something. She closed her eyes, leaning her back against the wall, like she was giving in to something. She couldn’t see him but she could feel him getting closer. His shadow covering her whole. She refused to look at him because she knew she’d be met with those dark eyes. His dark haunting beautiful lies that could see right through her. Just like earlier in the morning, every memory she had with him flashed before her eyes, including their moment in the hallways. They had left something unfinished. Twice now they had done that.

‘Dangerous territory’ is what Hakimi had called it. That was an understatement, thought Kylian.

She bit on her tongue, leaning her head on the wall, looking down her eyes still closed. Why was he coming closer? More importantly Why wasn’t she stopping him?

He lifted his hand, his fingers grazing over her bare skin, begging to touch her. But he was holding himself back, as much as he was struggling. He made a fist with his hand trying to keep his fingers away from her skin. He looked away, moving his fist slightly against the air.

“Verratti knows about Chelsea. He knows about the incident and you condition. Maybe more…” He whispered. It was all he could explain for now, in the few words that he was left with. Because his mind was a tangled mess. She opened her eyes, realizing how close he was now. She looked up at him.

“That’s why you’re here?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he spoke, twisting his tongue “that’s why I came.”

But the reason he wanted to stay was different. She nodded. He was supposed to leave now. Open the door and go back down to his car. Yet he couldn’t move, it was like she had him tied there and he couldn’t do anything without her permission. He stared in her eyes, tightening his jaw.

“tell me to leave.”

Now that was a beg if there ever was one. She saw it in his posture, in his eyes. Heard it in his tone, his breath, his heartbeat.

“Please god tell me to leave.”

She thought her mouth and throat had gone completely dry; her lips were stuck together. She couldn’t speak.

He stepped forward. Realizing his fingers again towards her shoulders. She watched them, it was easier than looking in his eyes. She didn’t stop him when they got closer, she didn’t stop him when they bruised her skin while pushing her hair away. She took a deep breath in, giving in the tension. Dangerous indeed.

She never said it, so he never left.

He leaned in, lower and lower until their lips were so close to each other there was only one way to go and that was closer. They don’t know who initiated it. They both like to believe it was the other person because that was, they could blame them for the chaos that it would create.

Did it really matter who started it when she was the one pulling him closer by holding his shirt on her fists. Or he was the one gripping her lower back like that. Pleading for access in her mouth. Did the day after matter when she tasted him whole or her hands reached under his shirt, lifting it off him and throwing it on the other end of the room? Did it matter when his hands pulled her up on his arms and allowed her to wrap her legs around his waist, only so he’d drop her on the bed and hover over her a minute later? Did it matter when they looked in each other’s eyes like they knew they were about to taste the drug that would destroy them?

No, it didn’t.

Or if it did. It didn’t.

Cause when he kissed her neck, she gave in. and when he uncovered her body by untangling her towel, he went weak. Was it hate? Is that why hit bit on her skin, just to hear her whimpers? Was it something else? That made her rushing hands reach for his zipper and open it while he left kisses in between her breasts.

She cupped his face, forcing him to look in her eyes again before she became his for the night. In any way a person can be given to another.

GALTIER’S OFFICE – NEXT DAY

When she woke up, he wasn’t there. He was kind enough to leave a note, saying he’ll see her on training. She didn’t think much about it, maybe it was better this way. She got ready, same way she did every day. Mostly pretending like nothing had happened at all.

She packed the reports she had on her bag and she headed for the campus. First stop it was Galtier’s office. She didn’t let herself freak out, she waited to see him first.

She gave Galtier the folder with all the reports. He looked at all of them quickly at first, one by one. Marquinhos stood by her while she watched Galtier, her mind constantly running back to the night before.

“that’s all very nice” said Galtier, Taylor smiled. It was all she could do for now. Everything seemed to be going fine for the time being.

“But there is one missing.”

Her eyes widened; she went pale. She hoped to God she wouldn’t hear his name or his number.

“What about number seven?"

READ CHAPTER 6.1 HERE

did it i leave out details from their night on purpose because we will see more on the next chapter? Yes i did. Did i also cut the scene so you won't know what happened to that goddamn report? Of course i did. Am i proud of myself for creating chaos. Yes i am 🤭 is Taylor about to create chaos in the next chapter too? ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY. Y'all wanted to see her take the lead, step on her villain era and istg that woman is about to burn the entire campus down, and I'll write it while sipping tea ✨ now i want a favor, if you are gonna send as many messages as you did for me to post this chapter, please be decent enough to comment on it, lmk if you still like it because my self-consciousness is driving me INSANE. I love y'all to the moon and back! Dedicating this chapter to my war friend .

[jalwyn21]

I did. And I hope Joe saw it too. Just another reason to the mile long list of reason why NOT marring her was the right decision for Joe. 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 I love how everyday she proves him right. 😹😹😹 // sorry why is that? (i don’t really understand😅)

Well, considering that Jeremy Corbyn is a family friend and Joe is clearly a left leaning, Guardian reader (2 family members were journalists at the Guardian ), Labour voting man.. I would be shocked if Joe were a monarchist. He never said anything about it, but looking at the evidence... You know? I think Joe's personal preference is for Britain to become a republic......

[icedsodapop]

I think it's good that Mark Ruffalo supports Palestine and the photo op he did at the Emmys with Khalid Abdalla will definitely help to bolster Abdalla's advocacy. However, Im so tired seeing White allies being praised for the act of simply not supporting genocide, and I want to use this moment as a jumping off point about the problem with seeing White allies being centered.

You see White folk like Rachel Corrie and Tom Hurndall receive Matyr treatment by (mostly White) leftists in the West for their deaths at the hands of Israelis becos they supported the Palestinians. It's tricky for me to criticize the amount of attention they have and are receiving (Corrie got a play written about her and Corbyn led a march recently in memory of Hurndall) becos while I do believe that their deaths should be memorialized, I also want to call out that the only reason why their deaths and contributions are receiving this much visibility is becos they are White pple from the Global North, anomalies that stood out from the dead bodies of Brown people. Black and Brown lives are not valued the same as White lives, Black and Brown pain is often not empathized with. In 2010, an article on Corrie in Ms Magazine stated:

While remembering Corrie, we are reminded of the tricky situation that global activists from the U.S. face. The presence of U.S. citizens in situations of conflict often elicits needed attention, but also runs the risk of turning the spotlight away from those most victimized.

[tobacconist]

Okay like i actually feel so guilty and this isnt even a joke. i dont know how to say this without sounding insane but yes; wizards are real. i am one of them. no, i havent been to hogwarts. yes, i do have a wand. no, i won't show it to you. etc, etc. genuinely this weighs heavy on my soul. ive talked about this before but i feel like its important for me to write this out once again. j confess it: j was party to them what put that curse on jk rowling. (iykyk) like, bitch, im actually so sorry. it was never meant to go this far. i mean i never meant for... well, i dont think any of us did (originally) but now we are where we are, and theres no turning back. not now.

basically, there was a big uproar in the wizarding community after that play 'the cursed child' came out. idk, i never saw it. you see, jk rowling didnt actually 'write' the harry potter series. she 'wrote' it, but it was not actually 'wrought' by her, like... to put it bluntly, the original was all based off of real events (albeit with significant alterations) and ,madame, was the one chosen to write the 'muggle-redacted' version, because she has (distant) wizard ancestry. she herself is completely unaware of this. well then, anyway, then there was the fantastic beasts saga; and, like, we were ALL pissed off. even the muggles sensed that something wasnt right. it wasnt 'magical'. it was a disgrace. so... yeah... we did it. we... uh... put that powder on her doorstep, so to speak. we crossed some bones. it was actually nothing to do with transness at all to begin with, it was about some political shit to do with the labour party and jeremy corbyn? or something like that? idk, were not supposed to vote and be political, we have our own kings and queens. anyway yeah we were just sore about how we were portrayed in it and especially how she distorted the whole plotline about grindelwald and harrys children. like bitch, if youre listening, tell me: WHY DIDNT YOU WRITE 'THE FOUR MARAUDERS' LIKE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO!? OR 'THE LIFE AND TIMES OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE' OR 'HOGWARTS A HISTORY'? or ANYTHING ELSE! it could have all been so different... 'fantastic beasts'??? sorry what??? it was genuinely like smearing dogshite upon our screens. im sorry love, but were still right angry about it. we loved you... how... how could you? 'newt scamander' - who is this fellow? we have never heard of him. oh, what? did you feel some tingle of inspiration? some new character, who loves magical creatures. he was expelled from hogwarts... fond relationship with dumbledore... THATS HAGRID! THATS THE YOUNG HAGRID! FUCK! anyway yeah, i didnt watch any of the other ones cus it was just embarrassing to see johnny depp dressed up like that.

and ofcourse there was all the other stuff before that (dont forget to be awesome!) but basically we cast a spell, several spells, and sent evil fortunes to be upon her. i regret it deeply. but by gum was the woman strong! i beg you all to realise that she literally was not transphobic until we caused this incessant stream of abuse to be directed towards her. like, we literally did this to her. on purpose. it was a targeted campaign of psychic harassment and manipulation that we have put her through for YEARS, and its only a few months ago that she truly started to crack. weve all since disbanded, because covens never stay together very long; thats why hogwarts is only a dream - but the spells have been spoken and the weird it is weft, and it would be a strong hand that would unweave them. that is to say - it is ongoing, and i am so sorry sorry sorry sorry

and for the record :- transexuality/homosexuality/genderqueerness/goatfucking is literally not an issue in wizard society we literally have potions that can change your gender in an instant or turn it back again, most of us have non-human ancestry, and we regularly trade our sperm and eggs with other species such as elves and the chinese. so there.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

From the news I'm getting here across the Pond, it seems like Liz Truss has perhaps achieved a marvel in that she's turning out to be more incompetent than Boris "Big Dog" Johnson. What are the chances the U.K. will have a new Prime Minister by the end of the year?

Yeah, she's exactly as competent really but, and this cannot be overstated, the person whose mess she's inherited IS Boris Johnson. But she compounds this with a Chancellor who is much, much worse.

Uh, this answer got long, sorry about that, but lol what can you do? Exercise restraint? Pfft.

By the end of the year... probably slim, as hilarious as the letters of no confidence are; the party can't survive another new leader that quickly. Johnson's greatest legacy - his greatest gift to the left - is the one he was always going to leave: he rose to power on a platform of 'feelings not facts', a method that is highly effective in the short term but horrendously unsustainable in the long run, once the shine of the bombast wears off and people realise that the bins aren't going out anymore. You cannot bluster and jazz hands your way through running a country indefinitely. You have to be competent at the daily grind.

Big Dog was not.

But during his tenure, everyone either threw all their weight behind him to suck his Union Jack-coloured cock and get a cushy ride themselves, or they were openly fired for disloyalty. He single-handedly created a Tory party that was defined by patriotism-flavoured incompetence. And then the bubble burst, and his old nemesis Mr Consequences came calling, and the situation was, very suddenly, that he was hot garbage - just absolute weapons-grade 'this is not a place of honour' levels of toxic - to have in charge of the party, but most importantly, crucially, none of them could get rid of him without also incriminating themselves.

That's why it took so long before the wave of resignations finally kicked things into happening. That's why it had to be a wave of resignations. None of the limping high school debating champions that were left in government could survive without him; even though he was actively poisoning them, they would die immediately with him gone. The tipping point came when finally that particular cost-benefit analysis see-sawed the other way.

And what's left? What was always going to be left: a hardcore radical group of 'feelings not facts' fascists, and an insipid hodgepodge of self-deluded clowns with the life skills of a particularly underwhelming five-year-old, all of whom are embroiled in bitter internal bitching wars and cliques and spend their days writing each other's names in a Burn Book rather than doing their jobs.

Everyone is blaming each other. No one is taking responsibility. The party can no longer agree on anything, except perhaps "Woe is us."

This latest leadership contest was actually a vicious thing that added to the damage and made the in-fighting worse. If we now add ANOTHER to the pile... well. I think we would see, at minimum, mass defections to UKIP. Very possibly some new political parties, like what Labour did when Jeremy Corbyn was too left-wing for them so Angela Smith and Chuka Umunna founded Change UK and claimed it was because Corbyn was racist and then Angela described people of colour as "black or a funny tinge... you know, a different... from the BAME community" and then Change UK was quietly dissolved after 10 months and no one remembers them anymore. It would be a disaster, is what I'm saying.

A new Chancellor, though... that's more likely, I think. Kwasi Kwarteng was rumoured to have had an affair with Liz Truss and honestly I strongly suspect that's why he got the job - he wrote a stupid book about economics that no one liked, on the night of the Brexit vote was overheard by a journalist saying “Who cares if sterling crashes? It will come back up again", and then became Chancellor, and then released a mini-budget last week that has tanked the pound to the lowest performance against the dollar since records began and immediately embroiled his PM into a financial crisis so bad she literally went into hiding for a day and a half. The UK is... actually completely fucked, as of this week. I cannot overstate what a fucking unmitigated disaster that budget is, or the damage it's causing. We were already doing very badly. This is catastrophic. This is like having an infected foot and everyone being concerned because it's turning gangrenous, and then Kwasi turns up and chops off both your legs and your dominant hand and then also the legs and dominant hands of everyone else present as well, except for himself and his rich mates. We are a long, long way beyond "First, do no harm."

But Kwarteng is also very replaceable.

However:

Liz Truss is extraordinarily stupid. I honestly don't know if it will occur to her to sacrifice him. If she's sensible she will; but 'sensible' is not a word I associate with Liz Truss.

The other option, of course, is an early general election being called, for the seven-hundred-and-fifteenth time in the last decade I stg. However, Tories only call for those if they stand a chance of winning.

One poll yesterday put Labour thirty-three points ahead of the Tories.

To put that into perspective, if that were to translate into a GE performance, the outcome of the vote would leave the Tories with...

THREE SEATS.

But! Of course! It's not so simple anyway:

That was an opinion poll, and those are always more extreme than an actual vote because people use them to express dissatisfaction. A vote would not be that extreme.

That was one of several polls yesterday. If we take an average, the actual figures are:

Labour are nineteen points ahead of the Tories.

Would you like some context?

In 1999 when Tony Blair won his landslide Labour victory - the greatest Labour lead in recent history - do you know what his polling lead was?

Twelve points.

Lol

So it is vanishingly unlikely the Tories will call a GE themselves. Their only hope now is that they can somehow do a good enough job to fix their party and win public confidence back before the next GE, which will be no later than January 2025.

In ENTIRELY UNRELATED NEWS I'm sure, Labour have just declared that they are backing a change to a proportional representation voting system in place of the UK's archaic first past the post system. Funny that.

[phoenixyfriend]

Suggested Listening

I've heard a few distinct takes on the UN vote and the comparison of the US and Israeli actions in light of it. I don't fully understand everything about the politics around this vote, because it's a complicated dance and trying to understand what people are thinking is close to impossible when we don't know what's going on behind the scenes and what's just political theater... but I think listening to multiple perspectives might get us closer to understanding than just listening to one.

I have provided approximate bias/political spectrum position for each, as well as giving my reasoning or summary of why I think it's a useful listen.

This post includes The NPR Politics Podcast, Democracy Now!, Al Jazeera: The Take, and the BBC Global News Podcast.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post.

The NPR Politics Podcast - March 27, 2024 - Left-leaning, though not as far as some of the others. This contextualizes the relationship between Netanyahu and Biden among the history between Netanyahu and multiple past presidents, including Trump, Obama, and Clinton. It focuses in part on the domestic political dynamics and ramifications that Biden is facing, the question of funding, and the apparent self-contradiction of the US government when it comes to the possibility of conditions, sanctions, or other reprisal if Israel continues to disregard US concerns about the ground invasion of Rafah.

Democracy Now! - Several parts of the March 26, 2024 episode were focused on the UN vote and results - This is a far-left radio broadcast show that gets repackaged for online video and podcast dissemination. This coverage is much more critical, without 'well, maybe they're trying to [action]' as we see in some others, of the United States and its handling of the UN vote and subsequent fallout. The interview with Craig Mokhiber gets into some nitty-gritty details of something called the "General Assembly under the Uniting for Peace," which I didn't really understand. I can't speak to supporting that we take that part at his word, because it's not something I understand enough to endorse. He also refers to the United States as not only Israel's principal sponsor, but also its co-belligerent.

Short section: U.N.-Commissioned Report Lays Out Evidence of Israeli Genocide in Gaza

Short section: UNSC Approves Its First Gaza Ceasefire Resolution Ater U.S. Abstains

Full story: Ex-U.N. Official Craig Mokhiber: Israel Must Be Held Accountable for Violating Ceasefire Resolution

Full story: Jeremy Corbyn Applauds U.N. Ceasefire Resolution, Says World Must Prevent “Another Nakba”

Al Jazeera - March 26/27, 2024 (timezone-dependent, it was the 26th for EST) - I hesitate to place Al Jazeera on the standard left-right scale since it's outside the Western framework, as an independent Qatari news organization with some degree of funding from the government of Qatar. What I will say is that Al Jazeera provides a vital non-Western lens, even if some of the reporters are Western, when viewing politics in the Middle East. In this particular case, it also appears that they had a reporter much closer to the action in the UN than the others, as Al Jazeera has an office in the UN headquarters in NYC.

They also address a few curious things about last-minute negotiations on the floor of the UN, the immediate consequences of the US ambassador referring to the resolution as 'non-binding,' and asserts that the US warned Israel that they would be abstaining this time, which is why the US is seemingly confused at how upset Israel is about it. I'm not sure how intentional it is, but the message I got is that Israel tried to call the US's bluff and was then upset when the US followed through, because the US... wasn't bluffing. And did in fact abstain.

BBC Global News Podcast - March 27, 2024 - Dead center, variably left or right depending on the issue - This is a twice-daily podcast and generally contains three or four separate stories. Their coverage of Netanyahu walking back the cancellation of his officials' trip to the US is first, however, and I'm not sure how much it adds to analysis of the vote, but it is the most recent and has the latest of the updates.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post.

[acti-veg]

why don’t you support Keir Starmer?

He hasn’t really given me or many others on the left a good reason to support him. He gutted the left of the party when he came into leadership, he has continued to suppress leftist candidates in local elections, he helped stitch up Corbyn with the anti-senitism smear job only to never talk about it again, and literally told us that if we don’t like it then we can leave - which a lot of us did.

More than that, He has failed to take up a principled stance on Palestine, has failed to offer anything even approaching reasonable measures to avert a climate crisis or to address the growing wealth gap between rich and poor, which are the biggest issues he needs to address. His last news worthy act was to take in a member of the Tory party who was a right-wing xenophobe even by Tory stands, that didn’t exactly signal a shift to the left when he gets in power.

Labour are trying to occupy the centrist space at the moment to poach disaffected Tory voters, and while I understand that strategy, it is losing him the left wing vote. He’s ultimately an electoral opportunist whose values seem to change depending on what he thinks will get him the votes. I realise that isn’t exactly new for Labour politicians, but personally I find it hard to vote for someone when you have no idea what they or their party even stand for anymore.

[mariacallous]

Liz Truss is the most disastrous and unpopular leader in modern British history. Mortgage holders and small businesses still loathe her for sending interest rates through the roof. Her short, catastrophic premiership is routinely compared unfavourably to the shelf life of a lettuce. (A comparison first made by the bright leader writers at the Economist to give credit where it is due.)

When Labour wins the next election, its triumph will be in part the result of the public’s reaction against her vast and dogmatic economic folly.

If you were Liz Truss, you might retire from public life. At the very least you would apologize and hang your head in shame.

If readers expect contrition, however, they have yet to learn that being on the radical right means never having to say you are sorry.

Truss’s demotion from national leader to national joke has not embarrassed her in the slightest but pushed deep into paranoid conspiracism.

Her autobiography, bizarrely titled Ten Years to Save the West, as if the fate of liberal democracy depended on the advice of an epic failure,  shows that, despite all she did to this country, her eyes still shine with a bright, self-righteous fanaticism, as if the sockets are backlit by an idiot’s lantern,

Chutzpah used to be defined as murdering both your parents and asking the court for clemency because you are an orphan. In Truss’s case it is using the power of the prime minister to crash the economy and then claiming she was a powerless victim of the liberal elite.

Her writing is as lacking in self-awareness as it is powered by self-righteousness.

At one point she says in all innocence that, when Boris Johnson resigned in the summer of 2022, her agent encouraged her to join the race to be prime minister, as the campaign might be good for her profile.

But she reports that he then wisely added “it would be for the best if I came second”.

Later she informs us that during the leadership campaign she “frankly lost trust in many of my erstwhile ministerial colleagues who were supporting my opponent [Rishi Sunak].

“They had spent the last six weeks not just attacking me but seeking to undermine my plans, saying my agenda was unworkable."

Truss never stops to think that the few people who will finish this book will believe that her agent was right, and it would clearly have been for the best if she had never been prime minister.

Nor does she contemplate the possibility that her agenda was indeed “unworkable”, and was proved to be unworkable when her unfunded tax cuts and fuel subsidies sent the price of gilts shooting up, the value of the pound crashing down, and caused a crisis in the pension industry for good measure.

And yet, and yet…Mock her as much as you like. Please don’t hold back on my account. But you cannot dismiss her.

There are two reasons why Truss is still dangerous. The first lies in the strength of the right-wing clique that brought her to power.

It is true that Liz Truss did not become prime minister by winning over Conservative MPs. As with Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership of the Labour party, Truss’s career illustrates the danger of expecting leaders who do not have the support of a plurality of their colleagues to function in a Parliamentary democracy.

But she still beat Rishi Sunak with the votes of 57 percent of Tory members.

And with the honourable exception of the Times, the Tory press was all for her. “In Liz We Trust”, said the Express “Cometh the Hour, Cometh the Woman”, cried the Mail. “Liz Puts Her Foot on the Gas”, cheered the Sun.

Kwasi Kwarteng set off a market panic as he put Truss’s ideas into practice in the mini budget of September 2022. The reaction of right-wing papers was not one of alarm, however, but of adoration.

“At last”, gushed the Daily Mail, “a True Tory Budget”. A Daily Telegraph commentator said it was “the best Budget I have ever heard a British Chancellor deliver”.

Meanwhile the Truss premiership allowed the voodoo economics of the US-influenced (and in all probability US-financed) think tanks to finally impose itself on this luckless country.  The Centre for Policy Studies welcomed the mini-budget saying it was “exactly what we would have hoped for”. The Taxpayers’ Alliance called it “the most taxpayer-friendly budget in recent memory”.

Robert Saunders of Queen Mary University made the unarguable point that Truss was not an aberration or some alien figure that had appeared from nowhere to take over the Conservative party.

Follow  the money that cascaded in from party donors, he said, and “the Truss premiership begins to look less like the personal failure of a flawed individual, and more like a systemic disaster for which the party bears collective responsibility”.

Those forces will dominate the Conservative party after its defeat and drive it to the radical right. Indeed, in opposition the members, the think tanks, the  press and the ideologue donors will become more important, for they will be all the party has.

In a sign of things to come, Truss is already allying with Nigel Farage, and even Rishi Sunak says he will not ban Farage from joining Conservative party.

Despite her failure, Truss remains a potent figure on the radical right because of her championing of revanchism, which is now its dominant emotion.

This isn't a book. It’s a 300-page wail of resentment at a world that will not do as it is told.

I have no problem with conservatives complaining about woke policies taking over institutions. Only a fool or liar maintains that progressive biases among supposedly impartial organisations are an invention of the right,

But the woke conspiracy Truss invokes is of a wholly different order. It is utterly fantastical.

To recap, Truss's unfunded subsidies and tax cuts panicked the bond markets.  They would not lend to a country whose leaders lacked plausible means of meeting its debts. Or if they did lend they would demand an additional yield on government bonds, which  became known in plain-speaking financial markets as the “moron premium”: the extra cost that comes with lending to a nation run by idiots.

In her apologia Truss, who still poses as a Thatcherite, no longer sees markets as an expression of the wisdom of crowds, but as a conspiracy to do her down.

 “I came to realise there is no such thing as ‘the market’ in this sense. Rather, there are groups of influential individuals in the financial establishment, all of whom know and speak to one another in a closed feedback loop. The Treasury, the Bank of England, and the OBR are deeply embedded in these social networks and share the same beliefs in the established economic orthodoxy."

The markets were at fault for not seeing her financial genius. Financial traders were the world’s unlikeliest lefties. Even though she and Kwarteng fired the permanent secretary at the Treasury and cut out the Bank of England and Office for Budget Responsibility from policy making, they were still, somehow, responsible for Tory failure.

“The powerful vested interests there pushed back, made my life very difficult and ultimately got me fired,” Truss concludes.

Older readers may remember a time when Conservatives insisted on personal responsibility. You were not allowed to blame crime on poverty or your failings on a bad childhood. You were accountable.

But the case of Liz Truss proves that these morality tales were only ever for the poor. In her mind, the economy collapsed not because of decisions she made but because of “a sustained whispering campaign by the economic establishment, encouraged and fueled by my political opponents in the Conservative Party who refused to accept my mandate to lead”.

Trumpism is the end point of such conspiracism and revanchism, and Truss goes all the way down the line to the terminus.

She mutters about the “deep state” a Trumpian phrase she uses without irony or self-knowledge.

And even though her support for Ukraine was her redeeming feature during her time as foreign secretary and prime minister, she is now supporting the pro-Putin Trump and his allies in Congress who are denying aid to Kyiv.

Truss is finished. But the resentment born of failure and the fury at modernity ensures Trump is still very much with us. 

If he delights Putin and wins in November, the UK and Europe will learn the hard way that the real threat to Western civilisation comes from  Liz Truss and her friends.

[barbatos-sama]

i crashed immediately after we got back from the fair, it hurt to walk and my neck hurt so bad that it hurt to move ky head 😬 anyway tho i had fun, i rode rides and ate a shit ton of pizza, some funnel cake, and those sugar doughnuts i like. i got that blue hello kitty i showed you plus later i got a small cinnamoroll backpack and a kuromi plush, and i won a frog plush from that coin game i like.

corbyn however hated it, which is why i don't like bringing the kid anywhere. he literally started asking to go home 15 minutes after we got there, would hardly eat or drink anything, and only went on one ride after we insisted he at least tried it. last year he loved doing the bounce houses and did them all day, but this time he wouldn't even try them. it's not like he was sick or anything, he was just being a party pooper. he does the same thing when we go to chuck e. cheese too or any other place that's supposed to be fun. he begs to go there but then wants to go home right away and hates it there

[peaky-shelby]

NEW ROMANTICS | MBAPPÉ [12]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

» chapter 12: La Petit Mort

» Writer's note: i do hope y'all are not skipping to only the scenes that the main two are together 😭😭 also this chapter will be going back and forth so read carefully.

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot  @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113  @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon @formula101x @neymarloverxxx

@cepolar @freespirit-51 @marialikescherries @superswaggycooch @lunasmindinwriting @shadysandwichghoul @contrastedfandom @alexxcorona113 @951am @jinsoulorbitzen12 @mati09 @books-loverss @l0verl4ne @kypostsblog @bluberrycheezk @hottieluvr @calcaneous @444jodie @dudde-44 @neysgf @wallflowerjournal @p4rkyonce @toclic @kyliannnkkk  @mad-die45 @tlk-duskwood @mentalbaddie @karotland

PLAYLIST ▶️

Chaos. Voices. Flashlights. Cameras. An endless of maze of people she had to pass through, that seemed to get thinner with every step she’d take. Even when she was away from the journalists, the noise remained. Teammates following behind her, calling her name but she couldn’t stop for anyone. All she could hear clearly was the loud beating of her anxious heart that anytime now would probably fall of her chest. And then silence. A loud bang of the bathroom door closing and everything was shut out of the door. She cuddled herself on the floor, hugging her knees up to her chest and counting down the numbers she had learned from kindergarten.

MAGAZINE “MATCH” LONDON OFFICES – 1 MONTH LATER

Silence. Low sound of keyboards and chatter on the background. Taylor is sitting in one of the cubicle desks in main foyer. She has her head leaned on her hand, her face giving away her boredom as she read through one of the articles that were sent to her. She printed it and got up, she went to her Boss’s office, leaving the files on his desk.

“Already done?” he asked

“I’m a quick reader.”

“or a lazy one.”

“I don’t appreciate my work ethic being questioned like that.” She warned, cutting off his jokes before he could go any farther.

“right… thank you, you can go then.”

“Did you consider my request? About champions league?”

“I told you I have more experienced writer’s on that.”

“Did you even read my points?”

Her boss rolled his eyes “Ms. Wilock, why don’t you go back and finish your work instead of telling me how to do mine?”

She wanted to punch him. Knock his head on the desk and walk away with her head held high but instead she just left his office, cursing every curse word on the dictionary. As she sat back on her desk and opened her computer, she saw a post about the PSG game against Montpellier and Kylian’s injury that apparently was gonna keep him out of the game with Bayern. Her mind going back to the last time she saw all of them together.

1 MONTH EARLIER – PARC DE PRINCES

Kylian rushed to find her, he was stopped by Neymar before he could reach the bathroom door, pushed back by him. “Told you not to fuck with her!” he warned. Kylian slapped Neymar’s hand away and tried to move passed him. Ney stood in front of him, unbothered “Leave her alone!”

They’d continue fighting if it wasn’t for Taylor’s father walking by them to get to his daughter. Kylian slipped away from Neymar and followed Charlie. Marquinhos joining them shortly after.

“Taylor, it’s me! Open the door!” Said her dad knocking for her. There was no response.

“What the ‘ell happened?” Verratti came in, raising his hands. The second Kylian saw him, he felt like he lost any patience he was left with. He tried to attack him, jumping forward.

“Toi et ta ami!” he shouted, Marquinhos held him back. Standing between Verratti and Mbappe. The team was falling apart and all because of a vicious woman that wanted to make a name for herself in the cost of others.

“You’re blaming this on Verratti?” yelled Neymar, ready to grab Kylian by the arm but getting dragged away last minute by Messi. “He’s not the one that said those things about her on a microphone!”

“I didn’t know I was being recorded!” he defended himself.

Taylor’s father kept knocking, still no response, while the boys behind him were fighting like animals but he didn’t care about them, he didn’t care about whose fault it was, he just wanted to make sure that his daughter would be ok. The door opened just a tiny bit and he got inside, shutting it again. Kylian was gonna walk in as well if it wasn’t for Neymar standing in front of it. “Don’t you fucking dare!” The door flew open again, her father coming out worried.

“Get one of the medics here, Now!” he shouted and Leo with Marquinhos were the first to ran down the hallway and search for help. Mbappe snuck in the bathroom and saw her on the floor, her back on the wall, half conscious, rapid breathing, her hand on her chest. She had been showing signs of getting worse for a while now, he never thought it’d be this bad. Neymar held her up with the help of her father and Kylian felt so helpless, so useless in that moment. He was pushed by the medics who came in and took control with moving her while they gave her an oxygen mask to help her breathing. That gave her some sort of peace. He trailed behind the medics while they moved her to calmer room, to let her lay in there. He watched them moving calmly around her, one of them injecting her with something while her dad gave them her full medical history from the back of his head. He made a few steps, he wanted to find the one that caused this. He went to exit the room and Messi blocked him.

“I know what you are thinking and it’s not happening.”

“I just wanna talk to her.”

“She’s with Galtier. He’s handling it.”

“He doesn’t care about taylor.” Said Kylian, waving his head “He’ll just fire her when Ann tells him everything.”

“What’s everything?”

Kylian didn’t answer but his eyes betrayed him. Everything about his posture was betraying him. Messi held back any judgement, there was just pity in his eyes while he looked at Kylian with his hands on his hips. “go home.” He told him. “She’ll be ok and the journalist will be handled— Kylian! You do anything else and this will only get worse for her. Go home.”

“I’ll take him.” Said Neymar. The two other men looked at him kinda worried “I’m not gonna drive the car on a wall, don’t worry.”

Kylian looked behind Neymar, Charlie was coming out of the small room with one of the medics, looking calm. Neymar turned around and walked over to Charlie “Is she good?”

“Yes. She’s fine, it was just an episode.” Charlie met Kylian’s eyes, it was easy for him to point out the guilt in them. Kylian gathered up his courage and walked up to him.

“I’m sorry for the part I might have had in this—”

Charlie raised his hand “Don’t, son. This wasn’t you. Her disease is something we both had to live with, like you, I blamed myself a lot. But it’s no ones fault.” He paused “Walk with me.” He motioned his head and Kylian followed. For the first few steps they said nothing, then— “It’s a tricky thing, our condition. It makes everything a little harder. Things that come easy to most of the people, like breathing, it’s something we struggle with most times.” They stopped in front of a window, the moon watching over them. “She had to sacrifice way more than I did, I think sacrificing became a way of living for her.” He looked up and down at Kylian “I’m not dumb. I know more than she thinks about you two.” Kylian looked down. “I can also see in your eyes that you didn’t mean to hurt her today.” Kylian rubbed his face.

“I don’t even remember talking to that woman.”

“My worst fear is that when I am gone, Taylor will sacrifice everything again. Cause sacrificing it’s all she’s ever known. And I need to be sure before I do, that she’ll have something that will stop her from doing so. Anything that she can count on, the same way she is counting on me.” Kylian could already feel the weight of what her father was asking him “if you wanna make it better, make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Kylian let his words linger in his head. He thought about it while Neymar was driving him home. The silence was loud between the two.

“I should have spoken to Galtier.” He suddenly said “see what he knows. Prevent him from making any rush decisions.” Neymar gripped on the steering wheel. “What happened is on me. If he doesn’t know about me and her there’s no reason to fire her—”

“He knows Kylian!” Kylian looked up at Neymar. Neymar puffed his cheekbones “I spoke with Marquinhos. Ann told him everything. All her theories at least. She’s running with it…” he shook his head “Taylor shouldn’t have to go through this. They’ll eat her alive.”

Kylian wanted to knock his head in the window, instead he settled for hitting his knee repeatedly. While he was trying to recall anytime that they might have been seen together, anytime they held on each other for too long when they were cameras around, every time he teased her, brought her to her limit.

“HEY!KY! STOP!”

“MERDE!” He yelled and punched the door with his fist.

“Galtier is trying to control it”

“he’s going to control it by firing her—I promised her this wouldn’t happen!”

Neymar stopped the car outside of Kylian’s garage. A moment ago he would be yelling at him but he could see how much he was regretting his actions and how guilty he felt for Taylor. Perhaps, he thought, he really cared about his friend. “Go to sleep. We can fix this in the morning.”

Kylian nodded and left his car. He went up to his house, sitting on his bed, the bed she used to spent her nights in for a week before he blew everything up. He closed his eyes, covering them with his hands and let his mind wonder to the few memories he had with her. During half time, just a few hours ago the team was in the locker rooms, messed up because of how the game was going. She walked to the middle. Her eyes meeting his, because they had this secret understanding with each other.

“we’re a team” she said, her voice low but confident “from the ball boys, to you, to all the assistants, me, Galtier, we are a team. We lose and mourn together, win and celebrate together and defeats are softened and victories sweetened because we did them together.” She was looking at him when she said the last few words, he smiled. “so go out there and be a team and whatever happens we will deal with it together.”

Together. He wanted to hug her when she said that, it’s like his body and soul needed the contact and it killed him that he couldn’t do it. He settled for a short squeeze of hands and went back out there to play, clueless of the chaos that would follow just a while after. She doesn’t deserve it, he thought.

He got up quickly and went at his desk on the living room, throwing his documents left and right searching for something. He looked under the desk too but couldn’t find it. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t stop until he did.

TAYLOR’S HOUSE – NIGHT

“come on, lay down.” Charlie helped her sit on the bed and ran on the kitchen to get an extra glass of water for her. She drank it all, mostly because she knew her father wouldn’t really give her a choice about it. Then she laid down, closing her eyes. “you need rest.”

“I need to know what the public knowns.”

“Nothing about you and Kylian yet, other than that you hate each other. What are you doing—put the phone down.” He took the phone from her and left it back on the nightstand.

“I want to talk to Galtier!”

“Tomorrow! You need to sleep!

“Did Marquinhos call?”

“Taylor!”

She kept her mouth shut, biting her lip, her eyes reflecting all of the sorrow she was feeling “did he call?”

Her father took the glass from her hand and laid her on the bed, dragging the blankets from under her and covering with them so she would warm. He tucked her in, lifting the blanket up to her chin so no part of her would be exposed. Taylor kept looking at him, waiting for him to give answer. “sleep, you’ll talk to everyone in the morning.”

But the night would only grow longer and the morning didn’t seem to be coming any time soon for either of the two and the grew more impatient, waiting for the sun to come up. Kylian was the first to leave his apartment. It was barely morning, the sky was still purple, the Paris streets were empty and as he drove, he kept thinking if he was doing the right thing. Then all of a sudden he was outside of Galtier’s mansion. He knocked on the door, a repeated loud knock until one of the maids opened up and he rushed inside, searching for his coach. Galtier came out of his kitchen confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t fire her!”

Galtier sighed, his face proving just how tired he was already from this situation.

“Listen to me! I didn’t mean what I said—I was angry!” he searched in his pocket.

“Kylian! It’s not about what you said—” Galtier stopped talking when Kylian slapped a napkin on his hand. He looked at it, examined it, trying to understand what it was. He could make up some of the names on it, a shape that looked like a football pitch. The handwriting was Taylor’s.

“She did an entire game strategy on napkin. Just two days after she got here. A freaking napkin. And we won! You really going to waste this talent because I was an asshole?” Galtier looked up at him. Pity in his eyes. He motioned for Kylian to come inside the kitchen, he told him to seat while he poured a cup of coffee for each of them. He left the napkin on the table, along with the cup and sat down next to him. Kylian’s confidence was gone, he was back to being a guilty boy, his eyes turned away from anyone that could read them to find out just how broken he was.

“How much of it is true?” asked Galtier. Kylian focused on the smoke from the warm coffee in front of him. He didn’t want to admit to anything that might have been too much, what if it was a trick question. That was a good enough answer for Galtier. “She doesn’t have any pictures. If she did the story would be out already. You’re lucky. But you’re not safe. She’s not safe from the press or the internet.” All Kylian wanted to do was drop his face on the burning coffee. “Ann has in her hands what could be a career changing story, you think she’s going to let it go out of the good of her heart?” Galtier drank a little from his coffee, left the cup back down.

“So what’s the plan?”

“The plan is to let me handle it, so both the team and Taylor come out of it unharmed.”

“What about her job?”

Galtier paused, looked in Kylian’s eyes “that’s not my decision. And before you go rushing to the president’s house… it’s not his decision either. If you know what I mean…”

KYLIAN’S HOUSE – 1 MONTH LATER

“Fuck!” he groaned as he sat up from his couch. It had been a while since the injury but it still hurt when he moved abruptly. He walked over to his door and opened it, to find Neymar and Messi on the other side. Neymar was holding a bag with food and Messi had a box with beers. They walked in before Kylian invited them too, they were already in some deep conversation, speaking in Spanish. Kylian watched them walking to the couch, a bit confused as to why they were here in the first place. The two of them sat on the couch, making themselves comfortable. Neymar even took of his shoes so he could lay his legs on the table and Leo sat cross-legged on the pillows. Kylian approached them slowly, narrowing his eyes, he crossed his arms, standing over them, waiting for them to notice him and pause their conversation. Suddenly Neymar turned to him, looking a little annoyed to Kylian’s surprise.

“You can stand there the whole night? Sit down man, eat!” Neymar opened the bag and took out a couple of wrapped tacos. He placed them on Kylian’s table, who, again, watched while his two teammates started eating over his couch.

“Gosh, these are good! Kylian you should try them—”

“What are you doing here?” he snapped, waving his hands in the air.

Neymar looked at him with a full bite in his mouth, his expression resembling one of a kid’s that was being reprehended by his mum while eating. Leo stuffed his mouth with the rest of the taco and wiped the sausage from his lips. Then he opened one of the beers “Beer?” he asked and held it for him. Kylian was still confused by accepted the beer anyway. He sat on one of the chairs and Leo gave a beer to Neymar as well.

“How’s your leg?” asked Leo.

Kylian was still drinking so he shrugged his shoulders as a response.

“What did the doctor say about Bayern?” questioned Neymar.

“They don’t know yet!” he admitted and stared at the floor.

“Are you flying to the Event tomorrow?”

“Yes, why?”

Leo and Neymar gave each other a knowing look, Ney leaned forward and took a paper magazine out of the bag, throwing it on the table. The sound made Kylian look up, his eyes falling on the magazine and reading the headline. Something about Champions League. He gazed at Neymar “what’s that?”

“Read it!” prompted Leo. Kylian stretched out his body to get the magazine and opened it to start reading, multiple columns about multiple teams.

“What am I supposed to be reading?”

“Page 12.”

Kylian flipped the pages, stopping on page 12 and started reading. It was an interview of a footballer’s wife that he had never even heard of.” He was wondering why he was wasting his time reading it until he reached the end and saw her name on the bottom. He raised his head at his teammates, half confused and half angry.

“There is no way she wrote this.”

“Bet she’s not proud of it, but she did.” Answered Leo.

“She hated these stuff!”

“She still does, she just doesn’t have a choice.”

Neymar cleared his throat as if he was making a shot at Kylian, but the latter ignored it “They have someone like her, writing this shit?”

“We had someone like her and didn’t use her pretty well either so I’m not sure we should be judging.” Mumbled Neymar. Kylian threw the magazine at him.

“Still don’t understand why you are here. I tried to convince her to stay. She’s barely answering my texts now. What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell us the whole truth finally! Why did she leave if the story about you two never broke out?”

Kylian thought about it, his mind going back to the last time he saw her. The shot that he lost.

PSG CAMPUS – GALTIER’S OFFICE – 1 MONTH EARLIER

Taylor felt weird walking down these hallways. She felt like she was going to be ambushed by journalist or worst Kylian before she had the chance to reach Galtier’s office but thankfully she made it there without a scar. Knocking on the door and entering slowly. Sitting in her spot, looking as awkward as she had on the first day she got here.

Galtier examined her like he was expecting her to go first but she didn’t even know where to start.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“What did the doctor’s say?”

“To take it more easy.”

“doesn’t sound like you.”

She snorted “yeah, it’s not.”

He smiled, leaned forward on his desk “I don’t know if you’ve spoken with Kylian—” she shook her head negatively immediately, Galtier nodded “in any case, there are rumors and please don’t try to refuse them, that’s not why you are here.” She lowered her head. She was a grown up, an adult, pretending this wasn’t her fault would be childish. “As you understand, stay or leave, there need to be some differences around here. And you need to prepare yourself for the worst”

“I already have.” She whispered, her eyes finally meeting Galtier’s, then in one breath she said the brutal truth before he could “I can’t stay.” Galtier was taken aback by her decision, he was scared by how easily and quickly she made it. She must have noticed the terror in his eyes because she was quick to continue “it’s a conscious decision. I pride myself for being fair, I have to be fair with myself as much as I am with the others. What happened…” her voice trailed off, breaking because she could see him in her mind, smiling, holding her, caring for her “it was wrong.” But why did it feel so right? Why did apologizing for it felt like lying? She cleared her throat and continued “I’d love to say that I can pretend it never happened, but I won’t be able to…”

“Ms. Wilock—”

“I don’t think I belong in this world anymore. I don’t think I can keep my mouth shut when I see the things that are happening and writing…” she smiled “I miss it.”

“Looks to me like you are running away.”

“maybe.” She mumbled, staring at her fingers, scratching her nails. “But we both know the backlash, if Ann runs with the story, is going to be insufferable. I’m never going to be respected, always under the shadow of a man, Kylian and…” she paused “you. All me success will go to you, meanwhile I’ll have to deal with every sexist comment on the dictionary. And normally I wouldn’t mind, I’m tough but… half of it will be true and it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I gave them exactly what they wanted.”

Galtier listened to everything she was saying, carefully, he almost understood her. It’s only that if he had an opportunity like hers, to make the amount of money that she was making here but perhaps that was the difference between the two. So he let her go as quickly as she came. She exited his office, head held high but eyes burning with the need to cry and her body asking to fall apart. There was something about making rush decisions like that, like pulling off a band aid to open wound, doctors always said that was the right way, right? In any case she was used to do doing it like that, losing a career from one day to another, losing people she loved because she was unable to love them, because she was scared.

“I wouldn’t know…I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Don’t think I’d even recognize the feeling if I did.” Her fingers slipped into his, he held them, stroking them gently and looking down at her as they sat cross-legged on his floor, then he smiled.

“Not even Mason?”

She snorted, slapping his hand “even that was a teenage crush. Nothing more. I’m telling you, it has never happened to me, I’m not built that way.” She shrugged her shoulders “maybe it’s because I know first hand everything has an expiration date. It’s hard to be as romantic when you’ve felt that.”

He interlocked his fingers with her as they sat cross-legged on his floor, candles keeping the atmosphere calm for both of them “it’s a messy feeling” he said in a low tone “one day it drives you mad. The other it’s peace.” He smiled, gazing over her hands, so tiny and yet able to keep him still for as long as they wanted “It gets you angry, impatient, miserable and at the same time calm, proud, loved.” He brought her fingers up to his lips, leaving light kisses on them “La petite mort” he whispered in her hands. She enjoyed the feeling of his warm breath washing over her skin. It’s the first time she didn’t mind him speaking French, like language barrier between the two was broken.

“What does that mean?” she asked, waiting for him to look her in the eyes.

He continued massaging her hands, a smile coming up to his lips, a teasing smile. “Small death. Its an expression. The French use it to describe the brief loss or weakening of consciousness” he looked in her eyes, with that dirty look combined with care “otherwise known as the feeling of post orgasm as likened to death, for us French people.” Even his words had an affect on her, the way that he said them, how easily he spoke about it. She slid closer to him, blushing and smiling.

“Is that what love is to you?”

“I think it’s fair to say it weakens your consciousness. Has you dying and awakening repeatedly.”

“How did you say it?” she bit on her bottom lip.

He pushed her hair behind her ear, his finger enjoying the contact with her skin, the energy that vibrated between them and he leaned in, his lips barely touching hers “la petite mort” he said, his bottom lip hooking on her upper and dragging her closer to him until all her strengths crumbled and she dropped herself in him to chase her small death for the night.

And she wished she could chase it again but all she was chasing now was the exit, leaving the campus before he could see her, before she could lay her eyes on him because she worried that if she did all she’d chase would be him and a life made of sugar.

Kylian was training when Neymar ran to tell him that Taylor was upstairs, meeting with Galtier. Considering that all his texts went answered from the night before he ran upstairs. There was feeling of Déjà vu. Just one month ago he was running up to her and Galtier to yell, to tell her how much he hated her boss and now he was running to stop her because he couldn’t stand to the thought that he’d be the reason of her losing something she loved so much for the second time. When he got to Galtier’s office it was empty. His assistant was the bearer of bad news, Taylor had already left and she wouldn’t be coming back.

“Where are you going? We have three hours left!” Yelled Neymar but Kylian didn’t respond. Suddenly he heard a tougher voice, cold and brutal.

“Seven!” He stopped on his tracks, Galtier was standing in front of him. “I don’t suppose you are going anywhere else but training” he said, but it was more of an order “this fiasco ends here. If you wanna be anywhere else, you get there when you are done with your schedule. This is not high school football.”

Kylian gulped but he knew if she was here, she’d tell him the same thing. So, he obeyed and he continued with his training until the sun was down. While on the locker room, Verratti approached him hesitantly, sitting next to him while he was tying his shoes. He gave him a card, he took it, examining it. The name of Annette Monet, along with her details.

“You can give it to taylor if she wants to talk to her. Tell her I’m sorry if you see her.”

Kylian threw the card on his bag. “Why would I see her?”

“You were much closer than I was with her.”

“What did Annette tell you?”

“She hasn’t told me anything. It was me that did most of the talking but I didn’t think…”

“I told you not to get a journalist involved Marco!”

“She was a friend.”

“Obviously not.” He tied the knot on his shoe tighter and got up.

How did he find himself in her apartment? Knocking on her door to be let in? He’s been asking himself the same question ever since that night. One minute he was driving and the other he was standing in front of Charlie, same look in his eyes as the day before. Charlie was smoking a cigarette, he made note of it because he thought it was weird for him to be smoking in his condition. Then he heard Taylor walking closer to the door “I told you to lit that thing off! For crying out loud dad—” she stopped in her steps when she saw Kylian. She was holding cash in her hand, probably expecting the delivery man instead. They looked at each other, silent, until her father took the initiative to invite Kylian in and excused himself seconds later, leaving them alone.

Kylian looked around the room, her suitcases on the floor, a pile of clothes on the desk. Her room looked as messy as ever but it was a different kind of messy, it didn’t feel as warm as he remembered it to.

“What are you doing?” he asked almost disappointed.

She didn’t reply, instead she gazed away from him. Looking at some sort of comfort in her walls, considering digging a hole so she could sneak out of this situation quicker. He made a step forward, confident. “Why?” he asked and it made have been one word but it mirrored a thousand questions that she didn’t have a clear answer to.

“There’s no use talking about it Kylian, what’s done is done.”

“We can stop her from putting out the article—”

”no we can’t and what’s worse is that we can’t stop ourselves! We can delay her, we can put a pause to this, we can pretend we are not driving towards a cliff but eventually we’ll pay the price.”

“Even if it breaks, I can protect you. I’ll take the heat--”

“no you won’t!” she mumbled, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.

“Merde—you think I’d let you alone in this--?”

“I have no doubt that you’ll do your best not to Kylian but you’re a man. No one’s gonna care about you fucking the new assistant. If anything, you’ll be praised for it! Me? I’ll always be the slut, my abilities will always be compared to this, poisoned by this. They don’t even know about this so far and your interview already has them hating on me—”

“That interview was illegal!”

“Does it really matter what it was?” She topped his voice. Kylian held back from answering. Maybe because he knew it didn’t make any difference. He really had said those things about her, what’s worse is that he really believed them when he said them. “Honestly between you and me, I don’t know if you ever trusted me as a coach at all! Don’t—” she raised her hand to stop him “you don’t have to say anything. It doesn’t matter, just please understand, that this is for the best.”

“You’re letting go of your dream for a stupid rumor—”

“where’s the fucking dream Kylian? Because this shit feels like a nightmare since day one. Me, trying to be someone I’m not. Chasing a vision, I had when I was a kid and realizing it comes with things I could never stand behind. I value respecting myself and choices more than the zeros on the paycheck.”

“What about me, then?” he asked, his voice firmer. “What about Ney? The rest of them? Is that what all of this was to you? Zeros on a paycheck?”

“Obviously not—”

“Then why are you acting like you’re just leaving a job?”

“So, I won’t break apart!” she yelled, her voice breaking, trembling. She hid her face immediately after she said it. Covering her eyes. “You think this easy? Cause it’s not.” She whispered in her palms and waited to hear the door opening and closing but instead she felt him coming closer, she felt his hands on her shoulders. His head leaning closer.

“This is my fault—”

“Its not about that!” she said, looking up. Having him this close was making her stomach ache. “We are both adults. All of this has been a series of choices that I made for myself. My choice when I gave in to you knowing there’d be consequences, my choice to keep it a secret, not putting an end to it and this… this is my choice too. I’m not letting anyone else make it for me, not Ann, not Galtier, not the world and not you. It’s just me facing the music--” she held his face in her hands, her thumb stroking his eyebrow “and I don’t blame you for it either. I knew what I was doing.” She leaned closer, her eyes began to stink “I wanted it. In a way, this is me protecting it.”

“It’s the wrong choice.”

“Maybe.” It came out so soft “But at least it’s mine.” She smiled and a second later she dived in his hold while he held her against his chest, his face hidden in her hair. Her face was molded on his shoulders, sinking in his perfume, his skin, his everything. He squeezed her in his arms, making a memory of what it felt like to have her there. “Do me a favor.” Her voice came out muffled from his shoulders.

“What?”

“Take a look at your leg before it’s too late.”

He laughed, his body vibrating. She tilted her head and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his cheekbone, he moved slowly, his head turning so he’d be kissing her lips instead. A slow kiss, their lips hooking on each other’s and dragging each other out until he molded his completely in hers.

“I’ll stop the article.” He whispered

“How?”

“I’ll find a way.” He said and he was confident. She kissed his cheek again and pulled away because any longer and they wouldn’t be able to control themselves.

TAYLORS’S HOUSE / LONDON – 1 MONTH LATER

Taylor threw her bags on the couch and walked over to the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge. She started drinking when she heard tiny steps coming down the stairway, she walked back in the living room to meet her sister, who rushed to her arms.

“Hey little one!” she laughed, accepting the hug. “Ready for bed?”

“Can you convince mama to watch a little TV?” she pouted

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I think it’s time to sleep.”

“That’s right, thank you Taylor!” said Beth as she came down the stairs. Taylor smiled when she saw her and knelt down in front of Lily, stroking her long black curls.

“How about you run upstairs and I read you a bedtime story?”

“Will it be about football?”

She laughed “I was thinking the little mermaid.”

Lily nodded with a smile and ran up the stairs. Taylor turned to Beth, the smile fading from her face. “How’s dad?”

“Same as yesterday but he still got that fucking cigarette in his hand.”

Taylor went to find her father. He was in his office, a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he was writing, always writing she thought as she approached him. He lit it off when he saw her by pressing it on the ashtray and he smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak but it was interrupted by coughing.

“She’s right for being mad at you, you know?”

“I know.” He sighed “but it’s only the second one, I promise.”

She noticed he had his inhaler laid on the table, next to the papers. He got up “Is lily in bed?”

“Yes.” She said but she was still looking at the inhaler. Terrifying how much a person could be depended on material things after all. “Did you speak with the doctor?” she crossed her arms to her chest, biting her cheek.

“Same old. Same old.” He stroked his daughter’s face. “Let’s not talk about it.” He kissed her temple and walked away. That’s when her phone began to buzz in her pocket, she took it out, looking at the caller id, comfort washing over her as she the name and picked it up.

“How’s my terrifyingly tall best friend doing?”

His laugh echoed on her ear. “I’m good. Missed ya. Are you coming tomorrow?” She puffed her cheeks, having completely forgotten about the invitation. “I’ll take that as a yes because you don’t really have a choice.”

“Jude, it’s not the best of time and I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t make me call Trish and have her dragging you at the party—”

“You wouldn’t, you’re terrified of her.”

“That’s not true.” He said but his tone was betraying him. Taylor laughed. “Doesn’t matter, as long as you come. Maze will be here, Saka, Rashford—I heard beckham might make an appearance!”

“Now you’re just straight up lying!”

“Maybe but it’s what I’ll tell Trish and you know she’ll do anything in her power for you to come if she hears Beckham will be there.”

“You play dirty!”

“I play smart, love.”

She snorted. Looking behind her at Beth and her father leading Lily to her bedroom. “Will any other teams be there?” she heard him chuckling from the other side of the phone “Don’t be a smug!”

“it’s a party TJ! I don’t have the full list. Just come, have a drink. I wanna introduce you to a few people. Please for me. Do it for breaking my heart as a kid. It’s your last chance to see me before I head back to Germany”

“Fine. Ok. But I’m leaving early.”

“Sounds good to me darling.”

Some days he’d catch himself thinking about her, he’d hear a whistle and turn around expecting her to be there, moving her finger at him. He’d have a bad game and expect her to turn up in the locker room, yelling and making her sarcastic comments. Her exit was noticed by everyone, for most on the field but for Kylian, he’d feel it at home too. His lonely, big and cold home with the million-dollar view and the lifeless interior. He tried to replace her by flirting, going out, focusing on getting better and for a short time he thought he made it. During games he wouldn’t think about her so much, he’d play like he used to, her perfume fading from her memory until he felt the pain in his thigh midgame. It was brutal. He had to sit down, cursing himself while the medics gathered around him. He could hear her so clearly on his mind, the “I told you so” slipping from her lips.

And now while he was laying on his bed, reading her name on a magazine, thinking about the talent that was being wasted, he wished she was there, so he could tell her to run. Instead, she was stuck back in her own life, in her family home, tucking in her sister, working in an office in the morning and seeing her dad slowly fading. Different hallways, different lives. She laid on her couch, tv on, lights dim and she was writing on her computer, an article about Champions League and the teams that would be playing against each other next week. One of them of course was PSG and then she had to write his name and suddenly her fingers froze on the keyboard and she looked at it. Names, she thought, they have so much power over people.

NATIONAL EURO TEAMS EVENT – NIGHT

“This dress is too fucking tight” said taylor, dragging it so it wouldn’t lift too high.

“No…” mumbled Trish “that’s just you.”

Taylor smacked her as the two of them walked in the after party and Trish would have reacted if she wasn’t scanning the place for all the hot footballers she could get laid with. So many familiar faces and yet there was one missing “do you see beckham anywhere?”

“Jesus Trish, he is not coming. Bellingham lied to you—”

“No, he didn’t. I know when he lies, he knows I know, I can smell it on him and he’s too intimidated to lie.”

Taylor looked at her friend with worry, wondered how she always got her way with men so easily. Suddenly she felt someone coming and throwing his arm around her, and she would have jump if she didn’t recognize the cologne. She turned her head up, a smile Jude Bellingham pulling her closer to him.

“Jude, I can’t breathe—”

“Ah! I’m so happy you came!”

“Where is he Jude?” Asked Trish, interrupting their sweet moment. Jude looked up at her, smirking.

“Brought your bulldog with you, I see!” he smiled. “He’s not here yet.”

Trish walked closer to him, perhaps too close and Taylor watched them. She could feel the energy between the two, something between hate, fear and love, it was such a familiar sensation. “If he doesn’t show up, I’m gonna blame you and you are going to find that unpleasant.” She poked his chest and backed away, turning around--

“I’ve got to tell you something, you’re kinda hot when you’re like this.”

She flipped her hair, gave him a smirk “I’m always like this.”

Taylor couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Jude checking Trish out as she walked away, specifically focused on her curves, biting his tongue. “EW!” She exclaimed before she could stop herself. Jude returned his attention to her smiling and interlocked his arms with hers, “Come on, I need you to meet people.”

“What people?”

She wished she hadn’t asked because she heard so many names that night, her mind overloading with information. Until she reached the main target for the night. Sarina Wiegman, head coach of the national team of England. Jude took the initiative to introduce them while taylor was struggling to keep her cool. It was midway that she realized Jude was basically promoting her like she was a multitasking phone. She barely got the chance to speak while Jude was making a list of her entire career, sometimes exaggerating. Sarina seemed to be enjoying it, eager to know about her time in France, working with Coach Galtier.

“We are recruiting new people to follow us in Australia for the world cup. I’ll certainly keep you in mind young lady.” She said with a smile, before excusing herself. Taylor looked at Bellingham, with her mouth wide open. Jude was laughing at her reaction, feeling proud of his childhood friend.

“Did she really just say that?”

“Yeah, I think she did—”

Taylor had thrown herself on him before he could finish the sentence and he picked her up, spinning her around while they both laughed. When he let her down, she continued jumping out of excitement, only stopping when her eyes caught a sight of very familiar eyes, eyes that she hadn’t seen in years.

“Well, if it isn’t the first girl that left me on read!” He joked, a glass of champagne in one hand while the other was held out for her to shake.

“Mace…” she said in a sweet whisper, full of adoration and as soon as she gave him her hand, he pulled her in a hug. It was like she was on a time machine, surrounded by her childhood friends, before it all went to shit, a future full of possibilities. She pulled back to look at his face, smiling.

“Thank god you got rid of the bangs.”

He let out a belly laugh while Jude came round him and settled his arm around his neck “that’s what I keep telling him.”

“God this is so weird.” She mumbled “watching you two together when you both belong in different parts of my life.”

“Judy has told me all about you breaking his heart for Carbonara.”

“Carbonara is always worth it—wait a minute, did you just say Judy?”

Bellingham rolled his eyes “swear to god man—” Mason winked and squeezed Jude’s side as a joke. Jude jumped, stepping away from him immediately. “Stop doing that.” He whined. Taylor laughed at his reaction.

“You two fighting again?” Rushford stood behind Taylor, giving her a quick look before smiling “And in front of the lady?”

Taylor smiled when she saw him, putting her hand out immediately “I’m Taylor. It’s very nice to meet you, Marcus.”

“Oh? I think I just met your friend.” He shook her hand.

“Oh gosh is she drunk already?”

“I think she was looking for David beckham so possibly yes.” Taylor hid her face in her hands, groaning. “She’s with Saka now, though.”

“What’s she doing with him?” Jude asked, stepping forward and walking in between the crowd to get to Saka, Rushford followed behind them. Mason put his arm around Taylor and they started following behind the other two.

“So, is this like a European gathering for teams?”

“It’s supposed to be an unofficial celebration for the beginning of EURO 2024” He explained, talking in her ear so she’d hear better.

“Don’t tell me Ronaldo is coming.” She laughed

“Yeah, he’ll be here, right after Beckham.”

Taylor let out a loud laughter, elbowing her ex boyfriend. She looked forward, trying to find the rest of the group that had left them behind when she saw his silhouette in between all the others.

Expensive Dior suit. Golden watch on his wrist, same hand that he was holding his drink. She didn’t mean to but she held Mason’s hand, maybe because she needed to hold something in order not to run to him.

“Kylian.” She whispered and their eyes met in the darkness, the invisible string between the two, pulling them closer again.

Did he think about going to find her the minute he landed in London? Of course, he did and he probably would if it wasn’t for his management rushing him to get changed and got to event. He didn’t wanna be there, he wasn’t in the mood. His leg still hurt and most of these people, he didn’t even like but he had to pretend to be all happy and giggling. He tried to stay with his teammates from France for most of the night but people kept interrupting. He had his hand on his pocket for most of the night, ready to call her, see how she was doing. While he was in deep conversation with Giroud when he caught a glimpse of Mason Mount. He followed him with his eyes until he saw him stopping behind someone that looked like Bellingham. He tried seeing who was behind Jude but whoever it was, was short. Then his heart dropped, a woman’s figure that took him only 5 seconds to process was Taylor, being pulled into Mason’s arms. His froze right where he was, he watched, his eyes examining her every movement while she spoke with the two men she knew from childhood. Men that knew her better than he ever would probably.

“Kylian, are you ok?” Asked Giroud. Kylian looked at him quickly, nodding.

“Yes, I’ll be back right away.”

He excused himself, pushing the crowd so he’d get closer to her. Stopped when he was a few steps away from her and he saw her gripping on Mason’s arm, while her eyes locked with his.

Mason broke the ice by greeting Kylian like they were long lost friends, he even tried to make conversation with him but if you asked either Taylor or Kylian what he was saying, neither of them would be able to answer. They were to occupied listening to each other’s thoughts.

“Hey Mase. Why don’t you find Jude, I’ll come find you in five.”

Mason nodded and walked past Kylian, putting him in the shoulder as he left. Taylor then stepped closer to Kylian, motioned with her head and signaled him to follow her outside. He swallowed his entire drink in one ago and he followed.

Maybe if it wasn’t for Kylian she would have noticed her phone was out of battery again. Maybe if it wasn’t for Kylian she would have left earlier or Trish would find her quicker. Maybe she’d know that Beth was calling her repeatedly.

What do you mean in 3 chapters I'm gonna have to say goodbye to all of them????? What do you mean that this story is ending???? HOW THE FUCK DID A POSSIBLE ONE SHOT TURN TO 180 PAGES AND 90.000+ WORDS???? WHAT IN THE HELL???? WHY AM I CRYING??????? I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! Adore you to the moon and back and thank you for always commenting please please never stop interacting it's the only thing that keeps this story going and i do not take it for granted. I can see that the hype is over and most of the readers are gone but the few that are still here please as always leave a comment to keep the fire going. Feedback is the best gift in the world. Now.... What do you think beth needs Taylor for? How did Kylian stop Ann??? Is Taylor gonna find her place in the national team and move to Australia???? SO MANY QUESTIONS!!! LEAVE YOUR ANSWERS 👀👀👀

[nulab-2024]

There are a few posts on here about Ed Davey, leader of the Lib Dems, having a terrible voting record. People say the same about Rory Stewart, an ex-Tory, now most known for The Rest Is Politics podcast with Alastair Campbell.

I think people are too stuck on voting records. We need to remember the role of whips, and the consequences of disobeying them. Several Labour MPs, including Zarah Sultana, were recently suspended from the Labour Party for voting in favour of removing the Two-Child Benefit Cap.

While some people have supported their voting against their party, as the MPs are being true to their own beliefs or perhaps following their constituents' views, this display of division weakens parties as we saw with the Tories over Brexit, or with Labour and its split between the centre-left (Keir Starmer) and the further left (Jeremy Corbyn). This is probably why Starmer suspended his MPs - he can't afford for his party to look any weaker.

Getting themselves suspended is not going to help these rebel MPs remove the Two-Child Benefit Cap. They are now much less likely to be put in key positions under Starmer when they return, from which they could have had more of an influence on this matter and others.

While you may not agree with voting for things you believe to be wrong, you can surely see why people like Ed Davey, Rory Stewart, or even Nick Clegg felt that they had to do that. Davey and Clegg obviously did not want to raise university tuition fees - it was against what they had promised! But they had to compromise this in order for the government to continue to function and to show a strong, united front. They likely believed that it was better for the country for them to stay in power, to block as many austerity policies as they could, even if they lost on tuition fees.

I think we should be more sympathetic to UK politicians' voting records. We shouldn't write off the Lib Dems because of the coalition - coalitions are a very Liberal and very Democratic concept, where as many voices as possible are listened to, instead of just having one party in power - and this makes it clear why Nick Clegg entered the coalition, despite knowing he would have to concede things to to Tories. What do you think?

[thegalievthought]

The Palestinian War Issue 2: International Solidarity

The war in Palestine which began early this morning was met with solidarity with many groups, from groups in the MENA whose support was unsurprising and expected. Nations like Saudi Arabia and Bahrain were almost certainly going to support the zionist state without question; this was again not surprising. Outside of the MENA, it gets more complicated and many parties like Sinn Fein in light of the war have turned their heel on the Palestinian issue, the Sinn Fein spokesperson on foreign affairs and defense Matt Carthy put out a statement calling for an “urgent end to the hostilities in Gaza and Israel.” This heel turn is saddening yet not surprising for the European ‘socialists’, a few French and UK parties who were pro-Palestine before the war have backstepped to a liberal notion of peace. The Palestinian people have assured the world today that peace is not an option, nor was it ever. After 70 years of occupation and then the genocide of the Nakba, peace was not an option for Palestine when their people were beaten, and killed, and their land was stolen every day. You see in Ireland when the Troubles were the topic of the day, Palestinians did turn away and say, “Oh those are Europeans why should we care” or “They should find peaceful solutions to the oppression of Irish people in Northern Ireland”. No, they stood with us in solidarity calling for the liberation of the North from the occupation of the UK. And in those days Irish Republicans stood with Palestine against the genocide. I am foremost not here to point and say names, but I am here to talk about such ideological issues as the turncoats in Sinn Fein that have refused to support the war of liberation for oppressed peoples in Palestine. Even people who 15 years ago were calling for the liberation of Palestine in this way just as they called for the liberation of Ireland like Jermery Corbyn have called for a ceasefire. Let me make it clear Palestine doesn't care if you're Jermery Corbyn, Cornel West or Sinn Fein's whole voter base. Calling for peace when facing a certain continuation of genocide is an unacceptable demand the only demand that is acceptable for peace is the end of the genocide, the end of all illegal settler colonies and the immediate end to violence at Al-Aqsa Mosque none of these quite simple and most moderate demands will be met without the violence that Sinn Fein and the others ive so mentioned called for an end of. The liberation of Palestine from genocide is a moderate demand.

[thatcheeseycandle]

//WAKE UP YOU LOT TW FOR MAJOR SPOILERS ON IPOS'S CHP. 35 BLUE PETER ITS TIME FOR A READING

Ogdkayahahhaaa OFHHAHgAHANAHAHZHSBSXUGCGDAGCSKHVSBVS

YOU ANEKAY

THE SUMMARY IS ALREADY FRYING UP MY THROAT

wait WIA TWIA TIAUJAIAIAA OLIVA REAT UP FOR GODS SAKE

OLIVIA DO NOT NO NO

North NORTHHRHAHAHDHDVAHAHHAJAAOAOOAOAOA NORHTA REASEARCH

HIS RESEARCH

I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID OLIVIA GO THROIGH THEM FILES

Wait WAIT. PEONY JUST- OH YEAH THAT MAKES SENSE NGL

STILL NOTING DOWN

Wait A HOUSE??????? WDYM AT ROOSTERA FARM. OKAY YEAH. CONAIDERING A LOT I'D HAVE TO STRETCH OUT A GUESS THAT THIS IS WHERE GNSJOURNAL TOOK PLACE WITH THE LIGHTING

But like I said THATS A FAR ATRETCH SO YEAH COUGHA YEAH

Wait AY AY WAIT. IM GUESAING THAT WAS POLLY NGL YEAH. YEAH THAT WAS POLLY DEF DEF

OKAY I GOTTA SPEEDRUN YHIS READ ITS NEARLY DINNER FOR ME RN AS OF WRITING THIS YEAH THIS SENTENCE

Ay AY. I

I newd I NEED. TO NOT. SCREAM. Give me a sec

Okay I screamed MYAHAIAAAAAAAA MU GOSH

I

I SCREAMED AGAIN WHAT AY AY AY AY OLVIAII OLVIAIA SAAN KA NAAAAAAAA

GOOD GOSH- THIS IS WHY YOU WRITE DOWN ADDRESSES PEONY THIS IS WHY

Ay AYAYAYAYAYAY KING GEORGER CORBYN AYYYYYY

Oh. Oh right Merfyn and his uh COUGH COUGH. BLACK SMOKE. Ah.

Wait so- WAIT. OH THAT LITTLE SHIT. SO WAIT HE MEANT ALL THAT THE ENTIRE TIME. THAT LITTLE PRICK I SWEAR

Oh OH??? WELL DANG. AT LEAST HES BETTER AMIRIGHT-

Well crap thats THATA GONNA BE A SHORT ATORY ISNT IT

Blue pink?? TV GIR- NO NO NOT A TV GIRL REFERENCE DW

Woah WOAH WE GOING ALL NUMBERS NOW AY? THISLL BE INTEREATING NGL

I. Yeah uh COUGHS. A CERTAIN CAPRICORN WILL NOT BE PLEASED AT THAT MERFYN (the names are starting to confuse me IM SORRY)

ah gosh I GOTTA GO EAT SEC

AAAAAAAAA AI HAVE NEVER EATEN DINENR THAT FATS OGAHHSHS MY STOMAVH YEAH ITS GONNA EXPLODE

RIGHT BACK TO YEAH

My goah GOOD GOSH- MERFYN????? YOU PRICK YOUR LITERALLY MORE THAN A PRICJ NGL

Oh OG???????? NO WAY NO WAYAYHABDHDHDHAHAHHDDH

TAKE THAT KING II

Ah gosh KING GEORGE YOU DID THE ONLY THING YOU COULD DW

WAIT. LET ME PROCESS ALL OF THAY PLEASE

AY AYAYAYYYYYY BLUE PETER

HEREA TH MAN OF THE HOUR LETS GO LETA GOOOOO

Oh. Right good gosh- RIGHT. I KEEP FORGETTING THAT. OUGH. IT HURTS

WAAAAITYTT

I JUST SCREAMED IM SO SORY BUT GOODF SOH

STH AND EMOLY

Insrrt me reading all fo this wjusy speechless until-

"I just don't know! I'm confused, alright! What is this, a therapy session?!" I JUST. I BURSTED IM SORRY

THATS WHAT EVERY SCENE LIKE THIS FEELS LIKE GAGAHAHAHDGDHDHDH

IDK WHY I JUST BURSTED INTO LAUGHTER FOR THAT LONG DHFJFHJSHS

BACK TO SERIOUS MODE

Insrry me getting up and just ranting and rambling and sayung a kot after reading that yeah the thing Blue Oeter asked being "Are you offering mr a place on Sodor, sir?"

OHMYGAHAHAHAHAHGDJDUDDH

I COULDNT CONTAIN MYAELF I HAD TO I NEEDED TO JUST LET OUT ALL THE WORDS ALL THE SVREAMEA

MY GOASYJAJAJAIDH

I

IK SAINT MUNGO IS HAVIGN FUN WITH TORNADO AND CHARLIE

BUT GOOD GOSH HE NEEDS TO GET BACK TO BLUE OETER RN

RN. AS IN RN RN.

"AAGUWUAHABAAAAA MY THROAT" -what I just screamed out

Ay AY AY AY ITS THE BTI

WE'RE FINALLY HERE WITH THE AUSSIES LETS GO

Oh gosysb GREY GREY NONONOONONO

INSERT ME JUST AAYIMG VARIATIONS OD NO DONT DO IT IRL YEAH

OH THANK YOU PENDENNIS THANK GOD AND ABOVE GOSH

Ay ay AY AY

RIGHT TRURO- RIGHT. GOD UH. RIGHT

Bittern OFUJDDHDH I LOVE YOU GOOD GOSH FINALKY SOMEONE SAYING AOMETHING LIKE TGAT

"Course not! He's out in his human build right?" gREY MY GIRL HAGSHDHDH GOOD GOD

HDFHDJSHSH YEAH JUST CASUAL CASUAL

Ah God whos gonna tell Pendennis HAGHAGAHAGSHSGD

Insert me standong up just saying variations of oUGFFHHF and just irl jeyboard smashes

Insert me just being shocjed and hust rambling lshocked at what Horatio just did and how he looks

OHNSFAJAGAHAHHAHDD

PAUSE. SIT. CALM. I NEED TO PROCESS THAT

SERIOUSLY I MEAN. CONSIDERING HOW EXPOSED WE, THE READERS, ARE TO GDCS ALREADY I MEAN YEAH I WAS NEAR THE LEVEL OF SHOCK-NESS GREY AND GOLD HAD

Look LOOK IK ITS BEEN SAID LIKE HEY YEAH GDCS ARENT MUCH NORMAL AND YEAH MOST ENGINES ARENT AWARE OF THAT YADAYADAYADA YKNOW

but sraly I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS THIS SEVERE

Wait. QUICJSILVLERR?????

JAQUELINE- JAQULEINEGSHAJAAAAAAAAAAAA

OKAY IM YEAH YEAH

WDYM HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITG HER PAST??????

.

WAIT

HOW ON EARTH DOES JAQUELINE KNOW THAT. WAIT- IS SHE OKAY????????? NAH NAH SRSKY IS THIS WOMAN OKAY LIKE GOOD GOSH.

WDYM YOU JUST KNOW??????? WDYM. LIKE

WDYM RAT OUT TO THE GOLDEN ORDER???????

I

WHAT

WHTAAYAUAAAAAAAA

INSETRRYREY ME HAVING A HEART ATYACJ OHGMAUAUAOAB MERRY IS JAQUELINE BUT EAIT HOW I MEAM HOW HOW I JSYTS DID SHE DIE OR DID NORTH WHAT HUH WHAT HAPPEHHAJAAAAAAAAAA