#Dali Fielding

[nina-priest]

[vince-noir-666]

Source

[aceofwhump]

The Outsider (2002)

Montana sheep farmer Rebecca Yoder (Naomi Watts) offers sanctuary to an on-the-lam outlaw, Johnny Gault (Tim Daly), who is suffering from a gunshot wound. Yoder is a recent widow, and her decision to help the outsider doesn't sit well with her Quaker community. As a romance brews between her and Gault, it puts in jeopardy her standing among her devout neighbors. But when an evil rancher makes a play for the community's land, Gault's sharpshooting skills might prove his worth after all.

Gifset series masterlist

[lesvieuxjoursart]

The yellow painting jumpsuit, including patterns for 3d canvases ans a standing easel. Make Paper Noel some tiny art.

[thevellaunderground]

The Bauhaus Band: Pioneers of Post-Punk and Proponents of Peace

The Bauhaus band, not to be confused with the German art school of the same name, stands as a monumental figure in the post-punk music scene. Their contributions to the genre have been profound, influencing countless artists and shaping the soundscape of alternative music. In this exploration, we delve into their history, inspirations, and enduring relevance, particularly in relation to the…

[renah]

Eu deletaria SAO... O mundo dos animes nunca mais foi o mesmo, depois de SAO

Isso que SAO é um dos menos piores, mas se apagando SAO fizesse com que o boom desses isekai harem medíocres não acontecesse, eu apagaria sem pensar duas vezes

[delusionalfanficwriter]

truth comes out

The day had finally arrived. The day Y/N would face Leah on the field, the first time since their breakup. As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the match between the USWNT and England, a complex mix of emotions swirled within Y/N.

The tension between them was palpable. Y/N could feel Leah's eyes on her, the intensity of her presence like an electric charge in the air. The pitch, once a place of shared joy and camaraderie, had become a battlefield where past love and shared memories had turned into heartache and distance.

Y/N was determined to focus on the game, but every glance, every challenge, seemed to carry an extra layer of meaning. It was as though their personal history was playing out on the field for everyone to see. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung heavily in the atmosphere.

“Watch it, Y/N.” Leah seethed as she knocked Y/N on her ass when challenging for the ball. Y/N didn’t say anything understanding where Leah’s emotions were coming from. Y/N couldn't help but steal a glance at Leah. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and Y/N saw the pain and frustration mirrored in her ex's gaze. The game had become a proxy for the emotions they hadn't been able to voice.

Y/N's teammates noticed the tension, even if they didn't know the full story. Tobin and Christen exchanged concerned glances as they sensed something was amiss. A few whispered words passed between them, but no one dared to breach the subject with Y/N. She had always been the one to keep her private life private, and they respected her boundaries.

But it was a passing remark from Sonnet that broke the unspoken rule. With a wry smile, the player said, "Guess there's some tension there, huh?" as Y/N and Leah clashed on the field once again.

However, it was Daly who had overheard and decided to set the record straight. "Oh, you didn't hear? Y/N broke up with Leah," she explained, not realizing the storm she was about to unleash.

The revelation sent ripples through the teams. USWNT players exchanged surprised glances, while Leah's teammates tried to hide their grimaces. The secret Y/N had guarded so fiercely was out in the open, and the discomfort was palpable.

The intense match was reaching a breaking point. As the play continued, Leah's aggression escalated. It was a move that took even her teammates by surprise, and their confused glances suggested that they were equally puzzled by her actions.

The referee's whistle cut through the air as Leah committed a blatant foul on Y/N. She went in for a dirty challenge, walking away as if nothing had happened. Y/N, however, didn't get up. She lay on the ground, wincing in pain.

Tobin sprinted over, shouting at the referee, "Ref! That's a yellow!" She made it clear that Leah's actions were not going unnoticed. Christen, Kristie, and Sonnett, who were nearby, immediately rushed to Y/N's side. They knew that if Y/N wasn't getting up quickly after a hit, things were not good. 

Leah's eyes widened as she saw the extent of the damage her reckless play had caused. Concern and guilt washed over her, and she instinctively moved toward Y/N, intending to check on her. But before she could approach, Tobin, who had been a few steps ahead, physically blocked her path, a stern expression on her face. Tobin pushed Leah away, keeping her from getting any closer to Y/N. She didn't mince her words, her voice low not wanting her words to reach Y/N and laced with frustration, "You need to stay away right now. You've done enough."

Leah could feel the weight of Tobin's words and the intensity behind them. It was clear that her actions had crossed a line, and Tobin was not going to tolerate any further interference. Leah bit her lip, holding back the apologies and explanations that were on the tip of her tongue and instead turned to walk away knowing how protective they were of her. 

Medics and trainers took Y/N off the field on a stretcher before taking her to the locker room for a more detailed exam. 

“It’s fine. My back spasmed when I hit the ground awkwardly. I promise I am fine.” Y/N tells the trainers who ultimately do their physical exam and don’t see anything concerning. With that, they let Y/N go to the locker room that held her concerned teammates and she reassured them that she was okay. 

Tobin spoke gently, her eyes filled with understanding. "Y/N, are you sure you are okay?"

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, mustering a small, brave smile. "I'm fine, Tobin. Just a tough match."

But it wasn't just the match that had been tough, and Y/N's teammates knew it. They exchanged knowing looks, silently vowing to be there for her, even when she wasn't ready to talk.

After the game though , as Y/N and her teammates made their way to the bus, she couldn't help but notice the shift in their demeanor. They exchanged furtive glances, whispered in hushed tones, and wore expressions that ranged from concern to sympathy. Y/N felt like she was missing something, something important.

During the bus ride back to their hotel, she couldn't ignore the quiet, lingering stares directed her way. The atmosphere was heavy, and her teammates' unusual behavior was impossible to ignore. Their silence, usually filled with banter and laughter, felt oppressive.

Dinner that evening was another revelation. Y/N joined her teammates in the hotel's restaurant, and the moment she sat down at their table, the conversation fell silent. It was as if her presence had disrupted the natural flow of camaraderie and conversation that usually accompanied their post-game meals.

Sensing something was amiss, Y/N furrowed her brows and looked around at her teammates, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Hey, guys, is everything okay? You've been acting a bit strange since the game. Did something happen?"

Tobin, usually the one to lead conversations, cleared her throat and glanced at Christen, seeking support. Christen nodded and took a deep breath. "Y/N, we heard about your breakup with Leah during the game."

Y/N felt her heart drop as the truth hung in the air. She had kept her personal life separate from her soccer career for so long, and now the team knew. Her emotions were a whirlwind, torn between relief at not having to keep the secret and vulnerability at having her heartache exposed.

She managed a small nod, not trusting her voice to speak. Her teammates exchanged glances again, and it was Alex who finally spoke up. "Y/N, we're sorry we didn't know sooner, and we're here for you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, touched by her teammates' support. She had expected them to be curious or invasive, but their response was nothing short of genuine concern and understanding. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 51)

Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (8)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan wasn’t in the starting line-up, just as she’d expected. She was however, subbed on at half time which she hadn’t. She’d expected to be subbed on much later than that. The game against West Ham was tough, and she felt her lungs burning as she covered more ground that she had all season. As the sub, she knew she was fresher than the starting players and so she pushed herself further and chased the ball around the field, though she felt she was barely making an impact and became increasingly frustrated which led to her shouting and throwing her arms up. After all this time, she still didn’t understand why she became so frustrated and angry on the field; perhaps it was because she’d blame herself when things didn’t go right. The thoughts of being dropped from the England squad and leaving Arsenal without Jonas even bothering to fight for her also weighed on her mind when it came to decision making, especially the split-second ones on the field.

She’d expected herself to have a fun, calm game after spending the night before with YFN at Lucy’s apartment in London. They ordered some health-ish take-out because Lucy’s London apartment obviously didn’t have any fresh food of course and had fun at home with Blu, entertaining him and talking all things from Kyra’s little date with Courtney to where they’d be spending Christmas.

‘You should be happy!’ she almost yelled at herself as she threw her arms up in frustration at the player who’d tripped her teammate.

She looked for YFN on the side-line, her eyes wandering over the numerous purple and yellow hoodies and beanies until she found her already watching her instead of the argument between the player and the ref. She looked freezing cold, her nose red and her arms around herself but when they caught eyes, she gave her a supportive dimply smirk and thumbs up. Jordan couldn’t help but smile back. YFN placed her hand on her chest and gave an obvious deep breath in and out; a sign for Jordan to do the same which she did. Much better. She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the Australian and turned her attention back to the game. The rest of the game was more chaotic as it went. Five minutes of overtime were added and they were drawn 2-2. In the 91st minute, she had the perfect view behind Rachel Daly to see her volley a ball from a header straight into the net. 3-2. Jordan ran to her excited and grabbed her in a hug, along with the rest of the team.

That eased some tension only temporarily though because the West Ham players were not giving up. They fought back more aggressively than they had all game, and as it was their home game in front of their screaming fans who urged them on. Jordan’s frustration built back up to the 95th minute where she was wiping the sweat from her brow and her lungs were on fire. Her teammate Alisha Lehmann fouled a player in front of her and Jordan ran over to grab the ball, just hoping to drag the time out. One of the West Ham players grabbed at the ball and shoved her until the ref held up their yellow card. She dropped the ball and tried to explain but knew she was in the wrong. She was just trying to give her teammates some extra breathing time to keep defending before the final whistle blew and if she was completely honest, the West Ham player had been an annoyance all game.

They started again and West Ham managed to score a corner, and even their Captain and goalkeeper Mackenzie Arnold came down for it. They were into the 96th minute with no whistle blown. The ball went up and for a single panicked moment, she thought there was a goal but Daphne van Domselaar, her goalkeeper teammate, managed to stop it on the line. There was one final shot from outside the box but that missed also. The final whistle blew and she let out a sigh of relief. They’d won!

She shook hands with everyone and grabbed the first water bottle she could find, along with a jacket. It was so cold she’d been wearing gloves for the game. When she was done with the team requirements, she ran over to YFN who caught her in a big, warm hug.

“Great game, Dory! You must be tired, yeah?”

“Dying!” she groaned.

“You played fifty-one minutes and it was high, high intensity. Jeez, I’d love to see how much ground you covered.”

She hadn’t known she’d played so long. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I need a shower and bed.”

She laughed. “You’ll have that soon enough… before your date that is.”

She groaned again. She was so tired she couldn’t even comprehend trying to navigate the awkwardness of whatever would happen with Leah in a few hours. She was tempted to cancel but YFN gave her a look and she knew she was right.

Jordan and Rachel Daly did a Lumos interview with Mackenzie Arnold and Risa Shimizu from West Ham with YFN asking questions. Jordan loved seeing YFN at work and it was so cold that she was cuddled up to her. The interview didn’t last too long, just enough to get a few laughs and good content before they said their goodbyes. Before they went, YFN gathered some information about the players in regards to interviews, what they’d want to talk about more or less etc, and asked general opinions of some of the ideas she had floating around like interviews outside of stadiums doing different things. Jordan loved the puppy interview suggestion best and YFN didn’t look surprised as she put her down for that.

“The debrief should be quick and then I’ll get changed and meet you at the car,” she said to the Australian after they’d finished.

She looked at her watch. “We’re still on time if we leave in 15. I need to talk to my group anyways. I’ll see you outside!”

After battling the traffic, Jordan managed to drop her off just in time. It’s lucky they’d done most of their speaking about Leah in the car as when they arrived it was just a jump out and run situation for YFN. Once her little suitcase and backpack were out of the car, she jumped back in the car and leant over to wrap Jordan in a tight hug.

“I love you, Dory. Please go at your own pace and communicate, okay? Let her know what you need. She’ll listen.”

Jordan nodded against her. “Stay safe in Barca and give Ridley a happy birthday for me.”

“Will do! Oh and here…” she removed the red house key from her keychain and gave it to Jordan. “Lucy’s house key. I’ll grab it when I get back.”

“I’ll try not to lose it,” she joked.

“With Lucy stalkers around? You’d better not!”

Jordan watched her walking away dragging her suitcase and smiled. She’d be with Lucy soon.

She drove to the apartment where she found a half-asleep Blu who must have been napping. Jordan gave him some love and attention and apologised for being gone. She took a shower and got changed into just a simple outfit; pants, shirt and a hoody, though she hesitated over how she looked. She found herself staring in the mirror, wondering if she should change or do her hair down rather than up. Eventually she became so annoyed with herself that she just gave up. She checked the Arsenal score so she’d know what mood to expect from Leah and saw that they’d won 3-0 against Brighton. Yep, she’d be happy. She loaded her luggage into the car before heading back inside for her most important item.

“Come on Blu, let’s go.” She picked the little guy up and took him outside, holding him close to keep him warm from the cold UK weather. She double checked that she locked the apartment properly before heading to the car and keeping the key safe there. There’s no way she was going to risk the crazies, especially with that YFN and Lucy had been through already.

The drive to Leah’s wasn’t far and even driving slower, it went quicker than usual because she was so nervous. She was still a little worked up about her game, let alone the idea of spending time with Leah.

She pulled up outside her apartment and gripped the steering wheel. Why was she doing this? Why was she going back to the person who’d caused her so much pain? They were so different in so many ways, which had to be expected as Leah was five years younger than her. Although she was mature for her age, and Jordan debatably less mature, they did have an incredible amount of similarities also. She thought back to the night before last and the feeling of Leah’s arms around her. Her smell, her feel, her warmth. Her words from the award night.

“I love you,” Leah said from the doorstep, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I made a decision without involving you. I thought I was protecting you, but I took your choice away. I never stopped and will never stop loving you. I can’t change the past, but I can tell you here and now that I’ll give you everything, all of me, and I’ll never make a decision without you again. I’ve lost a year with you, and I can’t stand to lose another second. If you take me back and realise you can’t trust me….then I’ll bear that burden of pain and I need you to know that I’d never beg you to stay just for my feelings. I’d hold the door open and offer you everything I had, because you deserve everything, Jord. Just…think on it.”

Jordan felt a tear roll down her cheek as she remembered that.

“You’re my person. I love you, Jord.”

Blue yapped from next to her which got her attention and she wiped the tear from her cheek and reached over to pat him.

“Sorry Blu, I’m just a little overwhelmed. Are you ready to see Leah for the first time in a year? She’s still the same…I mean she is in the best ways.” She put her hand out which he nuzzled and she picked him up. “Up you come my boy, let’s go see if she’s learnt how to cook, hm?”

Jordan rang the front door bell and waited, Blu cuddled in her arms and getting a little heavy. She heard a crashing sound and the patter of feet before the door was opened to reveal an overwhelmed looking Leah. As soon as she saw Jordan, she gave that smile of hers. Not her public smile, but her genuine one. The one that reached her eyes and crinkled at the corners of them.

Leah opened her mouth and hesitated before closing it and giving a little wave. Her eyes fell down to Blu and she reached out half-way, as if to ask, before Jordan nodded and stepped forward to hand him over. It was an awkward exchange of body parts, moving a dog from chest to chest but it was well worth his excited yaps and licking of her chin. They stepped inside and when she let Blu go, he was straight into exploring the place he hadn’t been in over a year. His legs were short though, so that took a while. Leah looked at her and hesitated again as if waiting for something. She gave up quickly and gestured to the living room where she led the way. Only when she turned did Jordan realised she’d probably been waiting for a hug. They walking into the living area which was overlooked by the kitchen and it looked like chaos. Like Leah was cooking for a whole family. She had a large amount of food and was overwhelmed with the amount she had to do, it seemed. Jordan couldn’t help but chuckle at that as Leah gestured her into a kitchen counter seat and put a drink in front of her. Jordan noticed a little whiteboard that was on the kitchen counter and Leah wrote on it, holding it up.

‘Sorry dinner isn’t ready – girls stopped by and wouldn’t leave.’

“That’s okay,” Jordan shrugged. “What’s for dinner?”

Leah rubbed her writing off and changed it. ‘Roast.’

Jordan nodded, impressed, before she looked around again and saw the mess. That’s when she noticed that the music playing was some of Jordan’s favourites. Her throwbacks and the songs she’d had on repeat for weeks.

“Leah… you can change back to your music if you want, it’s okay.”

Leah shook her head.

Jordan sighed. “At least let’s go half-half?”

She thought for a second before she nodded slowly in agreement and took her phone to alter the music to half country and half Jordan’s favourites before Leah got back to work.

Jordan’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it.

Katie: Hey chicken, give us a text when you’re almost here. We’ll be awake until midnight. Have fun x

Jordan: Will do, not sure how long I’ll be. Putting my phone away now x

Jordan always thought it was rude to have a phone out when you were with guests or… whatever this was. She looked back up and saw Leah with her head in her hands, her elbows on the counter as she read from a book. She was reading instructions? She looked stressed. Still reading, she pushed herself back upright and grabbed the knife, starting to cut the potatoes when she gasped and dropped the knife, grabbing at her finger. Jordan was up immediately and at her side.

“Here…come here,” she said as she took her wrist and put her finger under the tap. She examined it and was happy that it didn’t look deep, just a nick. She found Leah’s first aid kid and when she realised automatically she’d done just that, she turned to see Leah looking at her with so much emotion she could barely contain her tears. Of course, Jordan knew where her first aid kit was. And of course, she’d jumped up immediately to help her. Jordan was always worrying about other people. She returned with the kit and plastered her finger up gently, both women relishing the soft touches they shared.

“How about I help you cook, yes?”

Leah thought about it, obviously not wanting to admit she needed help. She took the marker and wrote on the whiteboard again. ‘I’m sorry.’

“Don’t be, we’ve both had busy days. Let’s see if we can work this out together, hm?”

Jordan helped Leah to make dinner. They moved silently and seamlessly together in the kitchen, Jordan saying instructions out loud from the book as she was also not great at cooking. There would be times where they’d run into each other or brush up against each other, and she couldn’t say she didn’t like it.

They finished making dinner and plated up, Leah also putting food out for Blu before they sat down to eat across the table from each other. Jordan had thought it would be strange with Leah not speaking but it was surprisingly relaxing not just for her, but she could tell it was for Leah also. There were no expectations, no worries about arguments or pain through words, they were just together and enjoying each other’s company. Both worked symbiotically as if no time had passed and from the little looks Jordan accidentally made of her apartment, it seemed very much the same as it had done a year ago. The same smell, same aura, same furniture, even the same country music. It was… nice. Really nice.

They finished dinner which was surprisingly edible and washed up, packing the leftovers away in Leah’s fridge. Jordan turned to the whiteboard again.

‘Movie?’

“Okay.”

She settled onto the couch and Leah joined shortly, bringing what seemed to be a new circular dog bed with her. She put it down on the carpet in front of them and Blu made himself at home, spinning a few times on the spot before he laid down. Leah gave a happy grin at the sight of that and sat down close to Jordan. The couch was large, but now they were so close they were almost touching. Jordan felt giddy at the thought that Leah had gone out to buy a bed just so he’d have something to fall asleep in. But it wasn’t only that. It was the dog food she’d bought. And the music she was playing. And the fact that she’d attempted to make a roast dinner when she couldn’t cook at all. Leah was trying.

The movie started and the title popped up on screen; The Lord of the Rings. Jordan scoffed at the audacity.

“Did you pick this just because it’s three hours long?!” she asked accusingly.

Leah gave a sheepish grin and tilted her head to see it Jordan was actually mad. She wasn’t. She was enjoying their night. For some reason, just being near Leah calmed her. It stopped her negative thoughts and overthinking and just simplified everything for her.

They were half an hour in when Leah wrote on her whiteboard again.

‘I bought cake for dessert. You had a hard game, I thought you’d might want some?’

If anything was a way to Jordan’s heart, it was cake. She loved cake more than any other human. She nodded excitedly and Leah smiled, victorious. They both got up to stretch and wandered to the kitchen, Blu following his mums. Leah opened the fridge and paused as if she were malfunctioning. She started shifting items around and eventually closed the door frustratedly and grabbed her phone. She read a message and shook her head before telling Jordan.

‘Kyra stole the cake when they stopped by after the game… I’m sorry. I’ll go get some from the shops around the corner.’

“No, you don’t have to do tha-” Jordan started to say, only to be cut off by Leah’s whiteboard.

‘Yes I do. I’ll be back soon.’

“At least let me come with you? It’s cold and dark and Blu needs a walk today…”

They strode in happy silence, all clothed up and Jordan wearing one of Leah’s beanies she’d offered her. She let Leah hold Blu’s lead while they went on the walk that they’d done so often before. The night air was cold but it didn’t stop Jordan from feeling the warming presence of the woman next to her. She wondered if their little knuckle and shoulder grazes were on purpose or not and decided she didn’t care. She liked it.

They reached the store and Jordan stood outside with Blu while Leah ducked inside for the cake Jordan felt she so deserved after her game. As she was standing outside holding Blu in her arms to keep the little short hair from freezing, she was approached by a few people she recognised as media for women’s football, but not the good kind…the vultures.

She had a few microphones put in her face and the brightness of the video camera blinded her so she had to step back.

“Jordan Nobbs! How do you feel after your win against West Ham?”

She put her hand up. “No interviews, please.”

They tried to ask her more things, and each time she told them to just leave her alone but they were insistent. “Another thing, is it true that you and Leah Williamson are dating again?”

“What?”

“Come on, you can tell us!”

“She said to leave her alone!” Leah snapped and stepped in front of Jordan and Blu. Leah was usually the polite, well-mannered Captain in front of media. She wasn’t right now, and the sound of her voice sparked something in Jordan.

“Just a few questions Leah, sorry we didn’t realise you were here.”

“I know you better than that, Stanley, and I need to say that I’m very disappointed in all three of you for approaching her when I specifically asked you not to! You know what that means…”

She’d asked them to not approach her? Leah was still protecting her and she didn’t even realise how much.

“It was just a few questions, Leah. No harm.”

“This is disgusting, disgusting behaviour. I expected more from all of you. As promised, from now on, all of the media I do will be through Lumos. Please tell your boss.”

They started to argue when Leah put her arm around the pair and walked them away, her hand rubbing Jordan’s shoulder as they walked. When they were far enough away, she dropped her hand and gave her space back. Jordan didn’t say anything, but she missed her touch as soon as it was gone.

Soon enough they were settled back into the couch with their cake and Jordan ate excitedly, groaning at the first bite.

“Oh god that hits the spot. Thanks, Lea.”

Leah’s eyes softened and she looked back at her plate with a little smile. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it.

YFN: Why am I getting second-hand news that you’re only going to be using Lumos for media from now on? Is everything okay?

Leah: I asked the reporters to not approach Jordan outside of football and they did. Fair punishment for them, I reckon.

YFN: So it’s true?”

Leah: Yeah if that’s okay?

YFN: Mate, perfectly fine with me. Everything okay with this little interaction?

Leah: Everything’s fine – I sorted them. Jordan’s okay, she has cake.

YFN: Ah, yes she’s fine then *laughing emoji* I’ll leave you to it. We’ll chat about this later. x

Jordan looked curious and so Leah showed her the few messages they’d exchanged.

“You’re serious about that?”

Leah nodded.

The movie continued and Blu went back to sleep. Leah and Jordan were so close that it was almost impossible to focus on anything else. Something loud and violent happened in the movie and Jordan couldn’t help but jump and grab onto Leah, putting her head behind her shoulder.

“Oh no, no, no…tell me when that part’s over please.”

Leah chuckled and let her arm be grabbed by her ex. When the scary part was over, she tapped her gently and Jordan looked at the TV again, but she didn’t let Leah’s arm go. She dragged it over further and hugged herself around it with both arms, her head finding Leah’s shoulder.

Jordan felt Leah let out a bigger sigh than usual and without lifting her head she asked. “What’s wrong, Lea?”

Leah took her whiteboard with her spare hand and put it on her lap to write when Jordan’s hand touched hers softly. Leah paused and let Jordan gently take the whiteboard off of her lap and slide it back where it was. Hint taken.

“I just wanted everything tonight to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” she murmured, and she wasn’t lying. “We cooked together, cleaned together, went for a walk with Blu and had dessert. And now we’re watching a movie together. How could it not be perfect?”

She felt the tension in Leah’s body leave as she softened and Jordan readjusted her grip on her arm and her head on her shoulder. She felt Leah’s head lean against the top of hers as they continued to watch the movie in silence.

It wasn’t long before Jordan was yawning and they were nowhere near the end of the film. Leah paused it.

Jordan lifted her head in question.

“That’s your third yawn, Jord.”

“So?”

“So that means your next will be your last before you’re asleep. And you know you’re more than welcome to stay here tonight but I have the feeling you’re going to want to go…”

Jordan hesitated as she thought before she nodded. “I need to go.”

Leah nodded also, as if she already knew. “Back to Lucy’s?”

“To Katie and Caitlin’s actually.”

“Oh… I didn’t know.”

Jordan was surprised at that. She thought they would have mentioned it at the game but obviously they’d respected Jordan’s privacy.

“It’s just for the night so I’m not alone.”

Leah gave a melancholy smile. “I know how that feels.”

There was a pause then. Jordan broke it by leaning over and putting her forehead on her shoulder in an unspoken word. She rested it there for a little before she released her and stood.

Blu was hard to wake, and Jordan felt bad that she was waking him for yet another trip. Leah took a few leftovers and cake and wrapped them up, putting them in a bag for Jordan to take to Katie and Caitlin. She helped her load them and Blu in the car while Jordan texted Katie that she was on her way.

They were stood in the doorway, Leah looking like she didn’t want her to go. She didn’t blame her. Her whole body was telling her to stay. It was only her fear of pain that was driving her to go, and it sure was strong.

She wrapped her arms around Leah who did so in kind; the two holding each other close for a while. Leah was so warm and soft and she just felt safe.

After a while Jordan spoke. “Thank you for tonight, it was perfect. I know Blu missed you a lot too.”

“It was really good to see him, and you,” Leah murmured huskily.

“Can I…” Jordan trailed off and Leah’s arms tightened.

“You’d like to pencil in another hug?”

“Yes please,” she whispered. YFN was right. Hugs were healing. She knew that because right here and now in Leah’s arms, she was happy.

“Whenever you want, just let me know.”

Leah watched from the driveway as Jordan backed out and drove off. They’d only been together three hours but it had lifted both of their moods to a level of happiness they hadn’t felt in a while. Jordan gave her a little wave as she drove off.

It was just clicking over to 10pm when Jordan arrived at Katie and Caitlin’s. She grabbed her overnight back pack and Blu and knocked on the door. Caitlin opened it with wild eyes.

“Did you see the messages?!”

“What?”

She dragged her inside and Jordan barely managed to put Blu down before she was being pulled into the kitchen.

“Did you see?!” Katie almost yelled, worried.

“See what?”

“Lucy’s messages!” They said in unison.

She frowned and looked at her phone that had been in her pocket on silent. She read the messages from Lucy and gasped out loud.

Oh no… YFN! What the fuck?

[lesvieuxjoursart]

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Async mugwump linkdump

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW in ANAHEIM at WONDERCON: YA Fantasy, Room 207, 10 a.m.; Signing, 11 a.m.; Teaching Writing, 2 p.m., Room 213CD.

For 20+ years, I've processed all the information that came over my transom by blogging – mulling on why something I saw in the world caught my attention and trying to summarize it for strangers. This turns out to be a very powerful way to do a lot of different kinds of mental work:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

With Pluralistic, the solo blog I founded 4 years ago, I've moved into longer, more synthetic essays that try to connect the things that caught my attention today with all those things I've written about for the past two decades. That's also proven very fruitful:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#synthesis

But this move to longer works has a downside: sometimes I'll arrive at the week's end and have a list of things that caught my attention without there being any obvious way to connect them, and when that happens, I devote a Saturday edition to a linkdump. There's been 15 of these so far:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Welcome, then, to the 16th Pluralistic linkdump, and a warning, this one starts with an obituary.

Ross Anderson was one of the heroes of the cryptographic revolution, a brilliant scientist and communicator, a fantastic activist, and a scorching curmudgeon. Ross died this week. He was 67, and had chronic heart issues as well as long covid:

https://www.lightbluetouchpaper.org/2024/03/29/rip-ross-anderson/

There's so much that's been written about Ross and his legacy already, and there's doubtless more to come, but I've picked out two pieces to point you to. The first is from Danny O'Brien, who was also the guy who talked me down off the ledge the first time Ross flamed me on a public mailing list, leaving me bleeding and furious:

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=39868983

As Danny says, Ross was "the model of a politically and socially involved computer scientist," a man whose blazing intellect, fierce moral center and relentless curiosity inspired a generation of technologists to think about politics, and a generation of political activists to think about technology. Few of Ross's eulogizers (thus far) have mentioned how Ross's passion came out as fury, and – as someone who counted Ross as a friend and inspiration – I think this is a serious omission. It's hard to imagine Ross doing all that he did without understanding the anger that – along with his ethics – fueled his passion.

(Compare with @neil-gaiman's classic essay on the anger of Terry Pratchett:)

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/sep/24/terry-pratchett-angry-not-jolly-neil-gaiman

The other obit that I want to point you to comes from Bill Buchanan, one of Ross's closest collaborators. Buchanan's memorial for Ross does a superb job of rounding up Ross's technical contributions to the field of security engineering:

https://medium.com/asecuritysite-when-bob-met-alice/ross-anderson-rip-59233c75fadf

Buchanan embeds videos for some of Ross's best speeches, links to his key papers (including the classic "Programming Satan's Computer," on "programming a computer which gives answers that are subtly and maliciously wrong at the most inconvenient moment possible), reminiscences of Great Moments In Ross Anderson, and terrific, lay-friendly breakdowns of some of Ross's key mathematical work.

As an unreasonable, angry person, I take great inspiration from people who channel their unreasonable anger to socially beneficial conduct – like whistleblowers. After Baltimore's Francis Scott Key Bridge was totaled by the 95,000-ton cargo ship MV *Dali(, a vast cohort of instant experts in structural engineering, sea freight and shipbuilding has taken to the internet with a slurry of takes on the Meaning Of the Bridge.

Some of these are very stupid indeed, like the idea that somehow "DEI" caused the collision. But you don't have to be an expert in maritime issues or civil engineering to understand the importance of this report from The Lever about shipping giant Maersk's culture of retaliation against whistleblowers:

https://www.levernews.com/feds-recently-hit-cargo-giant-in-baltimore-disaster-for-silencing-whistleblowers/

Maersk is the company that chartered the MV Dali; Maersk is also a key player in the cartel that controls the world's shipping. Maersk was just sanctioned by the Labor Department for retaliating against a whistleblower who complained of unsafe conditions on the ships that Maersk chartered:

https://www.dol.gov/sites/dolgov/files/OPA/news%20releases/Maersk-Sec%20Findings%20-FINAL%20071423_Redacted.pdf

Maersk's policy required employees to bring concerns to their supervisors before alerting the Coast Guard or others. This is not how that stuff is supposed to work. OSHA called this policy “repugnant” and a “reprehensible and an egregious violation of the rights of employees,” which “chills them from contacting the [Coast Guard] or other authorities without contacting the company first.”

The whistleblower – chief mate on the Safmarine Mafadi – complained of "unrepaired leaks, unpermitted alcohol consumption onboard, inoperable lifeboats, faulty emergency fire suppression equipment, and other issues." We don't know (yet) what happened on the Dali, but it's obvious that a company that retaliates against whistleblowers, rather than heeding their warnings, is prioritizing covering its ass, not operating safely.

Which brings me (inevitably) to Boeing, and to poor John "Swampy" Barnett, the Boeing whistleblower who took his own life earlier this month. Barnett's suicide has stirred up similar low-yield online chatter focused on whether Boeing assassinated Barnett, a question that categorically cannot be answered through the method of arguing with internet strangers.

But there is a lot to say about Barnett: in particular, there's the substance of his whistleblowing, the specifics of his complaints about Boeing. For that, we can turn to the always-fantastic Maureen Tkacik, whose American Prospect piece "Suicide Mission" is definitive:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-03-28-suicide-mission-boeing/

Tkacik does a great job of painting a picture of Swampy as a member of the tribe of unreasonable and angry people who refuse to sideline principle in order to get along. More importantly, Tkacik shows us what made Swampy so angry: a company that was hell-bent on lobotimizing itself by forcing out any technical expert who might point out inconvenient truths about the safety risks of high-profit strategies.

As Tkacik writes, Boeing once thought about "knowledge" in terms of expertise that could be brought to bear on the unimaginably complex task of making reliable, airworthy jets. But under the "value-engineering" financialized culture that arose after the McDonnell-Douglas merger, the company viewed knowledge as "intellectual property, trade secrets, and data." In other words, the point of knowledge was rent-extraction, not safety.

At the root of this transformation was the Jack Welch protege Jim "Prince Jim" McNerney, the former 3M CEO who took the helm at Boeing. McNerney was openly contemptuous of the company's senior engineers, branding them "phenomenally talented assholes" and rewarding managers who found ways to force them out of the company. It was McNerney who decided to produce the 787 "Dreamliner" in non-union shops, far from Seattle and its phenomenally talented assholes. Instead of these engineers, McNerney turned to Boeing suppliers to do the major engineering work on the 787 – despite the fact that many of these suppliers "lacked engineering departments."

The 787 was, infamously, a $80b-over-budget boondoggle, haunted by technical failures. Swampy was part of the "cleanup crew" that tried to salvage the 787, and witnessed first-hand how the company purged all the engineers who managed to ship the 787 despite McNerney and his "value engineers" and retaliated against workers who tried to unionize the South Carolina facility.

In particular, it was safety inspector who came in for the most savage punishment. When the FAA decided to let Boeing mark its own homework – hiring in-house safety inspectors to replace government inspectors – they pretended to believe that these Boeing-payrolled inspectors would be able to operate independently of Boeing's leadership. The inspectors tried to operate this way (not least because they were criminally liable for oversights that occurred on their watch) and McNerney's Boeing came down on them like a ton of aviation-grade aluminum.

To further neuter these inspectors, Boeing management ordered the inspectors to outsource their work to the mechanics they were supposed to be supervising – that is, the FAA outsourced safety checks to Boeing inspectors, and the inspectors outsourced those checks to the mechanics themselves. Tkacik: "Swampy believed relying on mechanics to self-inspect their work was not only insane but illegal under the Federal Aviation Administration charter."

Swampy kept careful records of every way in which this system produced unsafe aircraft and an unsafe workplace – including the day he discovered that someone had removed 400+ defective parts from the rejects box and installed them in aircraft in order to meet deadlines. Swampy's reports were key to establishing that the company's much-trumpeted "improvements" in safety reports were down to a culture of "bullying" – not any improvement in safety itself.

When Boeing went to war against Swampy, they barely bothered to pretend that they were playing by the rules. He was told one day that he was four-weeks into a 60-day "corrective action" that no one had told him about. The "corrective action" paperwork had a blank for Swampy's comments. He wrote, "Leadership wants nothing in email so they maintain plausible deniability. It is obvious leadership is just looking for items to criticize me on so I stop identifying issues. I will conform!"

Shortly thereafter, he was forced out altogether. Managers who tried to bring him on their teams were told that no one was allowed to hire John Barnett. His name appeared on a secret internal memo entitled "Quality Managers to Fire." Meanwhile, the value of Boeing shares had tripled.

After Boeing's 737 Maxes started falling out of the sky, Swampy's painstaking documentation of the flaws in the 787's production took on a new urgency. A program of random inspections of 787s found major defects in all of them ("Boeing Looked for Flaws in Its Dreamliner and Couldn’t Stop Finding Them" –WSJ). An Aviation Week diagram of problem spots with the 787 marked red arrows over "every single section, from the tip of the nose to the horizontal stabilizers":

https://aviationweek.com/air-transport/new-boeing-787-fix-details-reveal-extent-gap-check-challenge

Boeing's war on "brilliance" did its work: after everyone who understood how to make a safe aircraft was forced out of the company, financialized CEOs were able to cut corners on safety, triple the share-price, scoop up billions in government subsidies and bailouts, all without those pesky "phenomenally talented assholes" pointing out that they were going get (lots of) people killed.

Tkacik closes by saying that Swampy's former work colleagues refuse to believe he killed himself. A former executive told her "I don’t think one can be cynical enough when it comes to these guys…It’s a top-secret military contractor, remember; there are spies everywhere." I confess that I don't know what to make of that, but I'll say this: if Boeing killed Swampy, that's just one of hundreds of murders they committed. Whether or not Swampy's death was their fault, the deaths of everyone who went down on the 737 Maxes that crashed is on their hands.

That's what "profits before people" means, after all: sacrificing human lives to make yourself richer. It's the foundational tenet of the conservative movement, though that impulse is often checked by other factors, like human decency. It's only when sociopaths get a sustained run at leadership that you see what they really want.

Which brings me to the UK, which has been governed by the Conservative Party for 14 years. The Tories are tipped to get destroyed in the next election, and a long article in the New Yorker by Sam Knight catalogs the many ways in which Tory rule has devastated the UK:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/04/01/what-have-fourteen-years-of-conservative-rule-done-to-britain

The thing is, after 14 years, it's impossible for the Tories to blame anyone else for the state of the UK. With strong Parliamentary majorities, Conservatives were able to govern as they pleased – the only compromises they made were between their own internal factions. The ideological commitment to making the rich richer, privatizing everything, subordinating governance to market forces – that's all them.

It's all them: the worst period for wage growth since the Napoleonic Wars, on them. The catastrophic traffic, housing, jobs market, and precarity, on them. Plummeting health, on them. The austerity, on them. The withering of the country's courts and prisons and police, its wilderness, its programs for young people and pensioners, its public health, its diplomatic corps, its road maintenance – on them.

A country where the police can't afford to prosecute burglaries – on them (4% of burglaries are prosecuted). The 2.5 year delay between a rape arrest and its trial? On them. Mass closures of schools that are literally crumbling? On them.

43% of the countries courts have closed. On them. Cuts to prison funding, coupled with longer sentences? On them.

And of course, Brexit – on them. Every part of it. The referendum. The referendum question. The failure to negotiate a deal with the EU. All on them. The collapse in British living standards, all on them. The fact that the 20% richest households in the UK have been untouched by all this? Also on them. But you might not notice it in London, where people earn an average of 400% more than people in Nottingham.

The only growth sector outside of London are the Citizens Advice Bureaux, whose client rosters are growing even as their funding is cut. Where the CAB once primarily catered to people who couldn't make ends meet due to disability, unemployment and other reliable predictors of economic distress, today, CAB advisors are seeing homeowners, people working two jobs. Desperation is "like a black hole, dragging more and more people in,"

More Conservative growth: Tories presided over a doubling in the rate of NHS antidepressant prescriptions, and a 20% rise in long-term health conditions. No wonder Tory Britain had the world's worst pandemic outcomes for a wealthy nation – that's on them, too.

Knight's article closes with a Tory MP who believes that "the key thing for the Conservatives now is to be more conservative…Toryism must have its day again."

We can't count on oligarchs to rescue us from oligarchy – not even when oligarchy's failures push society to the breaking point. There's always a rationalization explaining why we just had to lean harder into oligarchy.

You hear echoes of this in the pro-monopoly choir, whose squeals of outrage at the rise of a new anti-monopoly movement grow louder even as monopolism's failures grow clearer. One of the more tangible expressions of monopoly's failures is the Ticketmaster/Livenation octopus, which controls the entire live music industry – key venues, promotions, and ticketing. Ticketmaster fucks over music fans, but it also cheats famous musicians, the kinds of people with big microphones, so we know a lot about how bad it is:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

Of course, the fact that Swifties hate Ticketmaster lets the pro-monopolists dismiss critics as foolish young girls, not Very Serious People Who Understand Economics and thus can see that Ticketmaster's monopoly is Good, Actually.

Last week, Congressman Bill Pascrell dumped a ton of litigation documents related to Ticketmaster's sleaze, and Matt Stoller broke them down:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/explosive-new-documents-unearthed

The docs reveal how Ticketmaster's system of (formerly) secret kickbacks let it choke out any competitor, so that it could charge fans more and pay artists less. The mechanics of the scam are beautifully laid out in Stoller's post – as is the many ways in which it violated both the law and Ticketmaster's numerous consent decrees arising from its previous lawbreaking.

This kind of scam breakdown is essential. It's easy to think that we, as mere normies, can't hope to understand the machinations of the corporations that prey on us. But once you pierce the veil of performative complexity, what's left behind is a set of crude tricks and transparent ruses.

Here's one of those transparent ruses: Discord's terms of service require Discord users to actively opt out of its "binding arbitration" system. Binding arbitration is when you sign a contract saying you can't sue the company no matter how much it harms you – instead, you promise to have your disputes heard by an "arbitrator" (a fake judge paid by the company that screwed you). Unsurprisingly, these fake judges are awfully tolerant of their employers' crimes.

Discord says that once you click through its garbage legalese novella, you have just a few days to opt out of this binding arbitration clause – if you happen to miss that fine print, you have "consented" to giving up your legal rights.

But every time Discord changes its ToS, the clock for opting out starts ticking again, and Discord has just changed (that is, worsened) its ToS again:

https://discord.com/terms

That means that if you send an email right now to arbitration-opt-out@discord.com with "I am confirming that as of the date of this email, I am choosing to opt out of binding arbitration to settle disputes with Discord" in the body, you can escape this consent theater:

https://mamot.fr/@trishalynn@mastodon.sandwich.net/112175832989845038

Consent theater is a particularly galling corporate ruse – the idea that we chose to allow them to abuse us. Consent theater gets more outrageous by the day. Take Soofa, who operate streetside digital kiosks that identify you by grabbing your phone's unique wifi and Bluetooth identifiers:

https://gizmodo.com/digital-kiosks-snatch-your-phones-data-when-you-walk-by-1851368948

Soofa sells this data to advertisers – claiming that by walking down a public street, you "consented" to being tracked and sold.

The only reason this flies is that the US hasn't passed a federal consumer privacy law since 1988's Video Privacy Protection Act, which bans video-store clerks from telling people which VHS cassettes you took home. Congress keeps on failing to pass a privacy law, despite garbage companies like Soofa.

But that hasn't stopped the administrative agencies from acting to defend your privacy! The FTC just dropped its latest Privacy and Data Security Update, a greatest hits list of the actions the Commission took while Congress failed:

https://www.ftc.gov/system/files/ftc_gov/pdf/2024.03.21-PrivacyandDataSecurityUpdate-508.pdf

One of the best things about the current administration is the number of extremely competent regulators who know exactly how much power they have and aren't afraid to use it to help the American people:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

The new FTC report, which details how the Commission's existing powers let it go after the commercial surveillance industry from smart doorbells to review fraud, from kids' programming to medical data, from lax security to data-breaches, is a bright spot in an otherwise grim week.

One more bright spot, then, before I wind up this linkdump. All week, I've been humming a half-remembered lyric, "come on baby/you're a link in this chain/put your hands together/and get free of the pain." For the life of me, I couldn't place it.

Last night, I searched for it (using Kagi, the post-Google search engine I've been paying for for the past month, and which I'm loving) and discovered that I had somehow completely forgotten a whole-ass band that I once loved: Toronto's Bourbon Tabernacle Choir, whom I saw live on many occasions.

The mystery lyric came from "Death is the Great Awakener," a fucking banger of a post-gospel track that I've been listening to on nonstop repeat as I wrote this. It's a hell of a tune and I'm intensely grateful to have it back in my life:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6RUb63Tx3w

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/30/dewey-502/#rip-ross-anderson

Image: Waffleboy https://www.flickr.com/photos/waffleboy/28198395465/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[viandclintbarton-supremacy]

Lionesses Cub (England Womens and Mens imagine) Gender Neutral Reader

The moment had arrived when F/N's teammates decided it was time to let them in on a little secret. that the Lionesses had a tendency to "baby" them from time to time. It had been a source of amusement among the team and they couldn't resist spilling the beans.

One evening, while the teams was gathered in their hotel room, Rice, Grealish, Foden and Pickford sat F/N down for a serious discussion, or so it seemed. They all wore exaggerated, stern expressions that F/N couldn't help but find suspicious.

"F/N" Declan Rice began, his voice grave, "there's something we need to talk to you about."

F/N raised an eyebrow, glancing around at their friends. "What's going on?"

Jack Grealish leaned forward, placing a hand on F/N's shoulder for dramatic effect. "You see, mate, we've noticed something... peculiar."

Phil Foden chimed in with an equally serious tone. "It's about the Lionesses, F/N. They seem to have a soft spot for you."

Jordan Pickford nodded gravely. "A very, very soft spot."

F/N's confusion deepened. "Soft spot? What are you guys talking about?"

Declan Rice cleared his throat and then began to recount some rather amusing incidents involving the Lionesses. "Remember that time Bronze tied your shoelaces during practice?"

*FLASHBACK*

"Oi, F/N," she called, her voice carrying across the field.

F/N looked up, Their brow furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, Lucy?"

Lucy, not one to beat around the bush, simply bent down and began to tie F/N's shoelaces, Much to F/N's confused face

"Lucy, I've got it," F/N protested, trying to pull their foot away, but Lucy's grip was firm.

"Nonsense," she replied playfully slapping their boot to signal stop moving. "We can't have you tripping over your own shoelaces, can we? Safety first, mate."

The male players couldn't help but watch the spectacle, their amusement growing with each passing moment. F/N's protests grew more and more comical as they tried to wriggle out of Lucy's grasp.

"Lucy, seriously, I can tie my own shoelaces," They insisted, but Lucy was having none of it.

"There you go," she declared triumphantly, having successfully tied a perfect knot. She gave Jack's boot a playful pat. "All done. You're welcome." Lucy said with a smile and ran back on the pitch

F/N sighed in disbelief , realizing that there was no arguing with Lucy's determined instincts.

*FLASHBACK END*

F/N's eyes widened in realization. "...........that was one time.......well she still does it" they looked down scratching the back of their head

Jack Grealish couldn't contain his laughter. "And what about when Millie Bright offered to carry your bags after training because they looked heavy?"

*FLASHBACK*

"Oi, F/N," she called out, her voice carrying across the hallway. "Need a hand with that?"

F/N, determined to prove that they could handle their bag on their own, shook their head vigorously. "Nah, I've got it Millie. Thanks though."

But Millie was having none of it. Ignoring F/N's protest, she strolled over to them, a confident grin on her face. she grabbed the heavy bag, hoisted it onto her shoulder and began to carry it up the stairs with ease.

F/N stood there, their mouth agape, watching in awe as Millie Bright effortlessly managed what they had struggled with just moments ago. Rachel Daly who was walking with Bright couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

But Millie wasn't finished. Once she had deposited F/N's bag at the top of the stairs, she turned back to him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Alright, F/N, hop on!" she declared.

F/N, baffled and unsure of what she meant, "Hop on what?"

Without Warning, Rachel lightly pushed F/N into Millie who simply crouched down and pick them up onto her shoulders into a firemens carry

F/N's eyes widened in disbelief. "You've got to be joking!" They said turning red in the cheeks as Millie walked up the stars

As they reached the top of the stairs, Jack Grealish, who had been nursing a hangover in a nearby room and had wandered out to see what the commotion was about, stood there, wide-eyed and utterly baffled by the sight before him.

He rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be seeing things due to the remnants of his hangover. Without a word, he turned on his heel and quietly slipped away, leaving the scene behind.

*FLASHBACK END*

F/N covered thier face "She didnt put me down till we got to my hotel room door"

Phil Foden added with a grin, "Or when Hemp gave you THAT pep talk?"

*FLASHBACK*

"F/N" F/N who was sitting at a pub watching a game turned to see Lauren Hemp. her tone filled with the conviction of a big sister, "you've got this. You just need to walk up to them, look them in the eye and be confident."

F/N, slightly bewildered by Lauren's words, furrowed their brow. "Huh? What are you talking about, Lauren?"

Lauren leaned in closer, giving F/N an encouraging nod. "Don't be shy, F/N. Just go for it. We're all here to support you."

Y/N, still a bit perplexed, glanced back at the television screen and then back at Lauren. "Are you ok?, Lauren? I'm just watching the match."

Lauren, not one to back down, was convinced she had caught Y/n in the act of asking out a stranger. "Come on, Y/N! Life's too short. Ask them out!"

F/N's confusion deepened, but before they could explain that they was not interested in anyone at the bar, Lauren, with an encouraging pat on the back, said, "You've got this. Just be yourself."

With that, Lauren Hemp left the pub, leaving a bemused F/N and a chuckling Phil Foden in her wake.

F/N turned to Foden with an incredulous expression. "Did she just...?"

Foden burst into laughter, shaking his head. "I think she thought you were about to make a move on someone at the bar, mate."

*FLASHBACKEND *

Jordan Pickford chuckled. "And let's not forget Mary , who made you a cup of tea and said you needed to relax after a tough match."

*FLASHBACK*

"F/N, you look like you could use a pick me up. How about a nice cup of tea?"

F/N, always appreciative of a comforting cuppa, nodded gratefully. "That sounds perfect, Mary. Thanks."

Mary bustled about, preparing a cup of tea with precision and care. handed the steaming cup to F/N, but she leaned in with a whisper.

"F/N, I have to give you a piece of advice," she began, her tone serious.

F/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's that?"

Mary's expression grew solemn as she leaned in closer. "Promise me, you'll never, ever drink Lipton tea."

F/N blinked in surprise. Lipton tea? It wasn't their favourite brand anyway, but Mary's dramatic warning piqued his curiosity.

"Why not, Mary?" they asked, playing along.

"Because it's just not proper tea, F/N. You deserve better."

F/N couldn't help but burst into laughter at Mary's playful theatrics. "Don't worry, Mary, I'll steer clear of Lipton. I wouldn't want to offend the tea gods."

Mary grinned, satisfied with her mission accomplished. "That's the spirit, F/N. Stick to the good stuff."

*FLASHBACK END*

As the stories continued to flow, F/N's face shifted from confusion to a mix of embarrassment and amusement. They couldn't believe they had never noticed these "babying" moments from the Lionesses before.

"You guys are having a laugh, right? Has Jack been on a pub crawl with you guys again?" F/N said, realizing and trying to deny that they had been on the receiving end of some well-intentioned but sometimes humorous acts of care from their female counterparts.

The room erupted in laughter as their friends confirmed the truth of their stories. "Mate, you're like the Lionesses' little Sibling!" Grealish exclaimed, still chuckling.

F/N couldn't help but think of all the moments they didn't mention. "Well, I guess I never really noticed. They ain't that bad, are they?"

The next day, during the joint training session where both the men's and women's teams were on the field together, F/N couldn't help but notice the subtle instances of "babying" from the Lionesses. It seemed like their friends had opened their eyes to something they had been blissfully oblivious to.

As they stretched before practice, Lucy Bronze offered them a water bottle and reminded them to stay hydrated and double checked to see if F/N shoelaces were tied, earning F/N a playful jab from Harry Kane who basically said "see" with his facial expression. Millie Bright flashed them a knowing smile when she saw them tying his shoelaces and Lauren Hemp couldn't resist giving them a thumbs-up from across the field when he put on yellow bip on.

During drills, The team had some free time to do a game and F/N swapped places with Ramsdale letting F/N go in goal. Mary Earps called out encouragement to them as they made a save, her words carrying across the field. The rest of the women's team were equally supportive, offering F/N high-fives and words of encouragement that were just a tad more enthusiastic than usual.

After a gruelling training session, as the players gathered to cool down and chat, F/N found himself surrounded by the Lionesses, each offering their own version of friendly advice and care.

"F/N, don't forget to ice that ankle!" Lauren Hemp said with a grin.

Lucy Bronze patted them on the back and said, "You were amazing out there today, young one."

Millie Bright chimed in, "Make sure you eat a good meal, F/N. We don't want you getting too tired."

Mary Earps gave them a wink. "And get a good night's sleep, alright? No late-night gaming sessions."

F/N couldn't help but laugh at the attention they were receiving. "Alright, alright, I get it! I'll take care of myself."

Sterling: "This is mad"

F/N male friends, who had been observing the interactions, couldn't resist but watch the lionesses surround F/N.

Sancho: "Yeah its like F/N is their child"

The group watched as F/N made eye contact with them and made a face saying help me. To which the group of Sterling, Sancho, Jack, Foden and Saka turned thier backs leaving a betrayed look on F/N's face

Saka: "You guys are never gonna let them hear the end of this are you?"

Grealish: "You are correct, The young cub needs to learn" Jack said in a playful voice as Foden gasped

Foden: "Oh my days. F/N is the lionesses's cub" The group laughed at the new nickname and the accuracy of the name

Throughout the day, the nickname "the Lionesses cub" stuck and spread to all the male footballers and staff even Serena Wiegman was told by Southgate. The men couldn't wait to announce the name to F/N

Later a team meeting was held in a spacious conference room and it was a special occasion where both the men's and women's teams were gathered together. Gareth Southgate and Serena Wiegman, the respective managers were present.

As the meeting progressed, the topic of team dynamics and bonding was discussed. Serena Wiegman, with a twinkle in her eye took a moment to address the combined group.

"Before we continue," Serena began, "I think it's important to recognize the strong bonds that have formed between our teams. We've become more than just teammates; we're like a family."

Gareth Southgate nodded in agreement, acknowledging the sentiment. "Absolutely. Our collective spirit and support for each other are what make us stronger on and off the field."

Serena then turned her attention to F/N, who was sitting among their male teammates. "Speaking of which, I believe there's a certain matter we need to address."

All eyes turned to F/N, who looked genuinely terrified as both teams starred at them but slightly curious. They had a sinking feeling that they were about to be the center of attention once again.

Serena smiled warmly at F/N. "L/N, it has come to our attention that you have a new nickname within the team, one that reflects the unique care and camaraderie we share."

Y/N: "this can't be good"

Gareth Southgate, who couldn't hide a grin, decided to spill the beans. "Y/N, from this day forward, you shall be known as 'the Lionesses' cub.'"

The room burst into laughter, and even Serena couldn't help but chuckle at the playful reaction. F/N, their face turning red and became frozen.

They hadn't expected the managers to join in on the teasing. The room erupted in laughter, both from the men and women players.

Alessia Russio and Toone exchanged a mischievous glance, clearly enjoying the moment. Lucy Bronze couldn't help but grin, and Millie Bright covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Mary Earps laughing as she thinks how this can be turned into a TikTok.

Later that night Alessia Russio and Toone sat together on the training field, "I mean, I could tie my own shoelaces, but Lucy was so adamant about it."

Russio nodded, laughing at Toone's comment. "I remember Lauren Hemp giving me a whole speech about confidence and pick up lines"

They both turned to see a rather unamused F/N in the distance. What caught their attention even more was the sight of Fran Kirby, standing on her tiptoes, holding a handheld fan to F/N's face, trying to cool him down.

THE END

Wanted to try something new and thought why not do something with both the lions and lionesses. i hope you guys enjoyed and if you want more let me know. feedback is always accpeted too

Sorry for spelling mistakes and bad grammer

[wosowrites]

Running out of Time (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

Warnings: none

A/N: Based of a request:

Prompt: after coming back from injury, reader isn’t being played at Chelsea. So, Jessie comforts her and helps her get to her best again to be played. Btw, i absolutely love Emma Hayes, but for the sake of this story I had to write her out as being the bad guy.

It had been two months since you came back from a broken leg. You had worked your ass off to get back on the field. But in the two months since you came back, you were riding the bench. You had been subbed on most games, but you weren’t performing how you wanted too. This caught up to you during one game against Aston Villa.

Chelsea was winning 3-0 in the 75th minute, so Emma decided to sub off Erin for next weeks important London derby vs Arsenal. You came on to the loud cheers of the blues at Kingsmeadow. The fans loved you, you were sweet, ballsy, talented, and they were unhappy with Emma for not playing you. If the lineup was decided by popularity, you would start every game. But football wasn’t a popularity contest.

You played fine. Made good plays that sadly led to nothing, shot the ball wide, over, and once off the crossbar.

In the 89th minute, you were making a perfect run, but Rachel Daly clipped your ankles just outside the box, playing it off as being the ball. The referee was oblivious.

You fell to the ground, staying down a bit. Not in physical pain, no, all your pain was mental. You stood up, tears filling your eyes as you tried to stay strong. Guro tapped you on the back, seeing your pain and telling you to keep her head high. You briefly caught the eye of Jessie Fleming, who had been subbed off just under four minutes ago.

The final whistle blew a minute later, no extra time needed. You crouched down to the ground, finally letting out the tears you were holding in. You were so tired. So tired of trying so hard to channel the pre-injury you, but you couldn’t. You leaned on your hands, sobbing quietly. You felt people surround you, your team as well as opponents.

You weren’t down long, standing up a minute later and wiping your eyes with your shirt. You pulled the blue jersey you were so proud to wear and covered your face with it. Feeling a few people patting your back and congratulating you. The only voice that pulled you out of your internal misery, was the one of Jessie Fleming.

You had something going on between you, but you were both shy, busy, and blooming young players who weren’t preoccupied about relationships at the moment.

"I know that you don’t want to hear how good you did so just wipe your tears and come here." Jessie said to you softly, you looked at her slowly, your cheeks wet with tears. She took the sleeve of her puffy coat and wiped it over your cheeks, proceeding by bringing you into a hug.

Emma tried to come over, but Jessie waved her off gently.

Eventually, you all made it into the changing room where the team was buzzing about the win. You weren’t. You felt numb as you sat at your cubby. Exasperated.

Magda was giving a speech, hyping up the girls for their amazing performances, but you couldn’t listen. You got up quickly, a few people looking at you because of your sudden movement.

You rushed past Magda, tears welling again. "Keep going. Sorry." You mumbled to her softly.

You hurried out the room and back onto the pitch, making sure everyone was gone before entering the actual field. Everyone was, and you kept your walk focused on entering the middle of the pitch. Once there, you sat down on the ground and stared up at the night sky. You then laid down, feeling the wet grass on your back. Flipping over onto your stomach, and burying your face into the ground, you let out a scream.

"Y/n…?" A small voice said, causing you to swiftly flip back onto your back and stare up at the person. "Jessie. Shit you scared me." You told her, putting your arms above your head and interlocking your fingers.

"I scared you? You scared me. What’s going on? I mean. I think I know but… i want to hear you say it." Jessie said to you, lying down beside you.

You thought for a second, wondering if you wanted to confide in the freckled canadian. You knew your voice would break the second you started talking. But you spoke up anyways.

"Jessie… i’m so tired. I’m tired of staying thirty minutes after training and eating extra healthy, and putting in extra shifts at the weight room. I’m tired of working my ass off just to be put on that field late, and to have my confidence trampled by Emma." You said, your voice was shaky, and tear filled.

"Y/n… you are an incredibly talented player who has an incredibly shitty thing happen to them. And now you’re having trouble finding your footing. It happens. And honestly, Emma should be playing you. It’s bullshit. But you have to keep pushing." Jessie told you, turning to her side and propping herself up on her forearm to look at you.

You felt her eyes on you, you liked her eyes on you. She reached over and softly wiped a piece of grass from your forehead, your touch sent shivers down your spine.

"I’ve gotten contract offers from Manchester United and Manchester City. They guarantee me as a starter." You said softly. Your voice shaky, now from the contact Jessie had with your skin more than anything. "You don’t want that, do you?" Jessie said confidently.

You turned your head to look at her, looking from her eyes, to her lips, and back again.

"Your right. I don’t want that. I want to be at Chelsea, with you." You told her, eye contact never breaking. You left Jessie no time to answer. Quickly, you had flipped yourself on top of her, using the weight of your body to push her into the grass. You looked at each other for a few seconds until Jessie craned her neck to kiss you.

You made out for minutes, stopping ever so often to breathe, but mostly, you were attacking each others lips, and exploring each bothers bodies.

"Uhm… guys?" A voice said, a voice that wasn’t yours or Jessie.

You quickly jumped off of Jessie, launching yourself away from her and then wiping down your kit. Jessie did the same, standing awkwardly behind you. "Sorry… it’s just… the bus is leaving soon. Like, now actually." Magda said.

"Uh- yeah, we- okay let’s go." You said swiftly, walking quickly towards Magda. When you reached her, she slung an arm around you. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone." Magda said. "You won’t tell anyone other than P," you corrected her. "Yeah." She winked.

A week later.

Every day since yours and Jessie’s on field moment, you had been slipping each other fleeted touches and looks, and Jessie, all though she wouldn’t say it, had taken it upon herself to get you back to your starting 11 position. She stayed with you after training, ate the same things you did, and was always cheering you on loudly at practice.

And it was paying off. You were scoring like crazy in practice, defending and making perfectly timed tackles all the time. You were playing like you did before your injury. So when the week of the game against Arsenal came, and Emma announced the starting lineup. You felt like crying all over again. You were riding the bench once more.

When Emma told the team the lineup, you could visibly see the looks of shock on their face, everyone had noticed your efforts in training, and how strong you were being.

Amongst the shocked faces, one stood out. Jessie’s face was not painted with the same shock as her teammates, it was painted with anger. She was starting the game, having been starting a lot due to Pernille’s injury.

"Okay, let’s get em girls!" Emma said, clapping her hands together and walking out the field.

You, along with the other people riding the bench walked out first to claps from the field, and you even heard a few confused murmurs from the Arsenal bench. They were expecting you to start, having seen your performance in training from Chelsea’s training clips.

The game started, and right away the pressure was insane from both sides. Every single time Sam or Lauren managed to get into the box, it was as though Leah Williamson appeared out of nowhere to take the ball. And every time Katie Mccabe or Stina Blackstinius got close to the net, Magda or Kadeisha would come in with a perfect tackle.

It was only the 11th minute of the game when Fran went down in the midfield after a rather tough tackle from Katie, earning the gunners a yellow. Fran was holding her ankle, not looking as though she was getting any better as the medics examined her.

"Y/n!" Emma’s voice called over. You stood up quickly, your shin pads were on, your cleats were tied, your hair was done, you were ready to go. "How do you feel about playing attacking midfielder?" She asked, putting her arm around your shoulder and looking at you. "I feel great about it. Put me on." You told her.

It was true, you were a defensive mid, and preferred it, but at this point, you just needed game time and an opportunity to prove yourself. So, the fourth official held up his panel where your number 18 in green was displayed in green, and Fran’s number 14 in red. You ran onto the field the second Fran was off, giving her a little tap on the back. The blues close to you high fived you and you set yourself up in the outside of the box for the free kick.

Kadeisha and Magda were standing over the ball, deciding who to take it. Eventually, Kadeisha walked over to it, acting as though she was going to adjust the ball, giving Magda the perfect opportunity to kick it into the box. You saw the ball come to you, it went just over your head. You dove sideways, your head connecting with the ball before you fell to the ground.

Kingsmeadow erupted in cheers. You stood up swiftly, running to the corner and sliding on your knees, soon tackled by Sam, Magda, Keish, Lauren, Millie and Jessie. "That’s our girl!" Millie yelled, hugging you.

You laughed of joy as you ran back to your half.

The first half ended 1-0, but you were thirsty for more. In the 60th minute, Jessie sent Sam the most beautiful ball through. It split Leah Williamson and Rafaelle Souza, giving the striker the perfect opportunity to turn on her jets. Sam got to the ball, Lauren and Guro running down both her wings, you running behind her. Sam was running out of time and shot the ball just outside of the box.

It hit the post and went bouncing back out onto the field, right where you were. You don’t know what came over you, but you dove head first into the ball, sending it into the back of the net.

Sam rushed over to you, helping you up and spinning you around. Your team celebrated with you, and when everyone was breaking apart, Jessie whispered to you "that’ll show Emma."

90th minute anxiety was creeping up the backs of the gunners. But you were calm and collected. That is, until Steph lost her temper in the Arsenals box and sent Jessie flying forward with a push in the back. "Hey! What the hell!?" You yelled, leaving your spot and rushing over to Jessie who was getting up. "Y/n don’t argue." Jessie said, getting up. "Why the hell not?"

And then you noticed that the stadium was cheering, and that the referee was pointing towards the penalty area. The team in red tried to argue, but it was no use.

"Get your hat trick, y/n." Jessie said, handing you the ball.

Guro usually took pens, it was her speciality. You looked over at her, but she nodded to you. You placed the ball on the spot, took a deep breath and waited for the whistle.

When it blew, you ran to the ball slowly, faked left, and shot it in a panenka right down the middle.

[maxsimagination]

𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹 - 𝗺.𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗱

warnings: none

a/n: let’s pretend they won against england

----

tony stood in front of us, giving his pre-game speech in an attempt to hype us up for the next 90 minutes. i had zoned out, someone cheering me on was never the way for me to get into the game.

i had always been the sort to get angry and play my heart out. in my trance my eyes had trained themselves on mackenzie, or macca, as the team nicknamed her. she was intensely listening to tony's speech, her being the complete opposite to me in almost ever way.

she must've felt my eyes on her and turned her head just slightly and glanced at me with a small smile. i return the favour and grin over at her before tuning into what tony was saying. "...we can do this girls, finals here we come!" he finishes with a shout and sam steps up to head off our chant.

"tillies on three. one, two, three, TILLIES!" we all shout the last word and break apart with a cheer.

i was insanely nervous but i knew i could do it. the girls started dispersing around the changing room, most just completing their pre-game rituals if they haven't already. i only had one, and me and mac did it together. before we did, i went around the room, hugging the girls and wishing them good luck, we could do it.

then i got to mackenzie. she pulled me in for a bear hug and i melted into her. "i love you so much. you can do this." she grinned down at me from her 5"10' stature.

"i love you too." i laughed.

tony clapped his hands, grabbing our attention. "alright girls, time to get out there." we moved into the tunnel, each of us holding a child mascots hands.

——

the whistle was finally blown after we sung the anthems for both countries and took a knee. i jumped in my place, remembering what mac had told me earlier. england had first possession and they were running towards us, full speed.

i was immediately in there, looking to steal the ball back from millie bright. she managed to spin away from me but i still took off after her, she was fast i'd give her that but this was a warmup for me.

the ball was mid-pass to rachel daly when i kicked away and took off with it. weaving in and out of the opposing players, everyone tried to get it off of me but they couldn't. i kicked it to sam who pulled a header and i took possession again. i was closing in on the goal and mary earps who looked like she was ready for me. we'll see.

i went in for the kick but made it look like it was going one way then kicked the other, sending mary the opposite direction to where i had kicked. the crowd went wild, and i ran back into my teammates who were cheering like crazy.

australia was 1-0 and it had only just been five minutes. we reset and england had possession again, taking off towards us again. i tried to get in there but it was alessia russo with the ball and she had always been the one player that knew my tricks, after i had a 2 year stint at arsenal with her. and she could match my speed. we stayed neck and neck with each other, getting closer and closer to mac and our goal.

i made one last ditch attempt to get the ball away but alessia was too close and she booted it straight towards mackenzie. i sucked in a breath in anticipation and watched, almost in slow motion, as the ball went hurling towards mac and... she caught it!

mackenzie caught the ball, landing roughly on the grass but getting up just as quickly, yelling a 'come on!' as if to ask if that was all they had. i just ran to hug my girlfriend and then got back on the pitch. we played the rest of the first half, with neither side scoring another goal and went to half time, australia still 1-0 to england.

——

"keep it going! we only have one last chunk left and we're in the finals, further than we've ever been before!" tony was almost giddy with excitement at how we were going. half time break was almost up and we all fist bumped each other, getting ready to head back out.

i was getting jumpy, waiting to get on the field again and finally we could. i was the first out there, followed by sam, and we got into position.

whistle blew and we were off, we had the ball first this time. sam kicked it to me and i quickly passed it on to hayley, she ran down the wing but was surrounded by england players. she kicked it out the side to me and i gave it back to sam who took off with the ball.

there were only two players in front of her; millie bright and lauren james. neither of the two girls could stop the ball from flying past them and into the net behind mary. sam had scored our second goal.

we all ran towards her, the crowd went wild behind us. i checked the time displayed on the screens, reading 20:00 in bold numbers. holy shit, it's been 25 minutes already? it seemed unreal but i had to quickly focus back on the game.

england started in possession, and it seemed this time they were more aggressive, trying anything and everything to score a goal. but every time they got near the goal, it was steph defending, or if it got past her then mac saved the ball. i was so proud of her, she was absolutely crushing it out here.

we kept going, the score still 2-0 to us after sam's miracle goal in the 67th minute. the timer blinked 90:00 but it wasn't over yet, we still had to play injury time, 5 minutes of it. as much as i wanted a 3-0 score for us, and tried my hardest to get through england's defence, it wasn't happening in five minutes.

the ref called the game over and we were over the moon. we'd won the semi final match against england and we were into the finals.

i ran around the pitch, crashing into my teammates who were just as happy and excited. mac had come up the field to celebrate with us and i made a beeline for her, getting to her before alanna does.

"mackenzie arnold, you brick wall! i love you so much!"

she burst out laughing at my words, picking me up and swinging me around. once she put me down the rest of the team swarmed her, all of them praising her masterful goalkeeping abilities.

i calmed down from my high, and looked over to see the england players dejected, in particular lucy. she was a friend, i had played with her when i moved from arsenal to lyon, but then west ham picked me up and i moved back to the wsl. i just sat next to her on the field, one arm around her and head on her shoulder.

"next year luce, next year." she sniffed, and that broke my heart. i don't think i'd ever seen her cry except for losing a match that had meant everything to her. she thanked me, insisting i go back and celebrate with my team.

i jogged back over to them and joined in the victory lap around the pitch. macca had taken her gloves off so i grabbed her hand and she liked to see me. "you're our saviour, mac. couldn't have down it without you." she grinned back down at me. "i'm a brick wall, right?" her words referenced mine before.

"my brick wall."

[bloodyjuls-blog]

Could you write for Jessie Fleming ?

Horrific Moment

(English is not my first language)

One fateful day, Arsenal and Aston Villa were scheduled to face off in a highly anticipated match. Excitement filled the air as fans eagerly awaited the clash between the two teams. Reader and Jessie were equally excited about the game, hoping to reach the 3 very important points to take the leade on the table.

The match kicked off with intense energy, the crowd roaring with anticipation. Reader was in top form, sprinting across the pitch, determined to make an impact. The game was fierce, with both teams battling fiercely for possession.

As the match progressed, Reader found herself in a promising position. With her lightning-fast pace, she broke away from the Aston Villa defense, sprinting towards the goal. The crowd held its breath, cheering Reader on as she closed in on the goal.

But fate had other plans in store. Just as Reader was about to take her shot, Daly slid into a tackle, catching her off guard. It was a devastating collision, and the impact was too much for Reader to bear. She heard the crack. She fell awkwardly, clutching her leg in agony.

The stadium fell into a stunned silence as Reader writhed on the ground, unable to hide the pain. The referee immediately blew the whistle, signaling for medical assistance. The TV cameras captured the entire incident, broadcasting it live for the world to see, including Jessie, who was watching the match from home.

Jessie's heart sank as she witnessed the horrible injury that Reader had suffered. She knew how passionate Reader was about the sport, and seeing her teammate and girlfriend in such excruciating pain was heartbreaking. Jessie, being a true sportsman, felt a mixture of concern and empathy for Reader.

Meanwhile, the medical team rushed to Reader's aid, providing immediate attention. It became apparent that her leg was severely broken and would require extensive medical care. The pain was excruciating, but Reader remained determined to return to the game she loved.

News of Reader's injury spread like wildfire, both within the football community and among the fans. Messages of support flooded in from all corners of the world, offering prayers and well-wishes for her recovery. Even Jessie reached out, sending a heartfelt message of encouragement and expressing her hope for a speedy recovery.

Reader underwent surgery and began a challenging rehabilitation process. It was a long and arduous journey, filled with moments of frustration and pain. But Reader's determination and the unwavering support of her girlfriend and teammates helped her push through the difficult times.

Months passed, and Reader's hard work paid off. She made remarkable progress in her recovery, surprising everyone with her resilience and determination. The day finally came when she was able to step back onto the football field, ready to resume her career.

In Reader's first match back, Arsenal faced Aston Villa once again. The anticipation was palpable as the two teams locked horns on the pitch. This time, Jessie watched from the stands, thrilled to see Reader back in action. The match was fiercely competitive, with both players giving their all.

In the end, Arsenal emerged victorious, but the result was secondary to the joy of seeing Reader back on her feet. The crowd erupted in applause, showing their appreciation for her incredible comeback. Reader and Jessie shared a heartfelt moment after the game, embracing each other and recognizing the strength and resilience they had witnessed in one another.

[anandrettisimp]

It’s that time of year again, the milk selection for the Indy 500.

I’m gonna preempt you lot by answering some questions:

Do they offer lactose free/alternative milks?

Yes, the American Dairy Association are on record saying they will offer alternatives if requested.

Of the field that I’m aware of Scott Dixon is vegan (though this is since he won his only 500) as is Conor Daly while Will Power is lactose intolerant (but he’s colourblind and says his favourite drink is chocolate milk, survival skills is none with this man). As you can see, none have select it.

Why Milk?

Back in 1936 Louis Myers asked for a glass of buttermilk after his victory as he had always been told by his mum it was a refreshing drink to have on hot days. He’d also had it after his 1933 victory but he hadn’t actively asked for it them. It faded for a while, in fact for a couple of years it was instead a silver jug in the style of a water bucket filled with iced water as "Water From Wilbur" and given by track president and three time winner Wilbur Shaw. In 1956 with the dairy sponsor (including money towards the winner purse) a bottle of the white stuff was back and has been ever since.

Now they use to still have buttermilk as an option until quite recently. The reason it was dropped is that rather than it being the drinking kind they had, it was rather cultured buttermilk which is more of a baking ingredients.

Has anyone drank something other than milk?

Yes, in 1993 Emerson Fittipaldi, wanting to promote his grove back home drank orange juice.

It went down badly.

Even though he did drink the milk after (at team owner Roger Penske’s insistence), it was during an ad break for tv watchers. He would apologise and donate $5,000 from the Dairy Association to charity.

He still got booed at the next race in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, aka America's Dairyland.

….

If you have any more questions then just reblog with them and I’ll try and answer~

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! I was wondering if you’d write a Marilyn x bratty girl reader? Like r is overly confident, flirts with everyone that crosses her path and she’s also very attractive which makes a lot of people having crushes on her. R loves the attention and the thrill of it, having everyone at her feet and following her around like a long lost puppy. Marilyn is sweet and innocent, but behind her façade she often fantasizes about showing r her place and punishing her for everything. Marilyn is intrigued by r and r doesn’t even realize, until one time r crosses a line and marilyn grabs her hair tightly and tells her that she’s going to teach her a lesson. Just very unhinged smut at the end, if that’s okay w you!!

Yes!!! Here it is!!! I hope you like it!!! Sorry about the daly and the language mistakes!!! :))))))

Bratty Girl

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Student! Reader

Warnings: Smut, bratty reader, dom! Marilyn, sub! Reader, kinks…

Word count: 5,699

Summary: You were the queen of beauty of Nevermore and you can have anyone at your mercy, but now your goal is to seduce your teacher…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“But will you call me?” Your classmate said, almost drooling. You looked at your hands nonchalantly and shrugged.

“Well, if you're good, I might not mind taking another walk with you, Paul, but don't get your hopes up,” you smugly replied, walking across the quad and leaving the boy nodding and smiling.

It was another day in Nevermore, another in which all eyes were directed towards you.

Life had given you the gift of beauty and you, despite being a good girl, took advantage of it.

You were cool, spoiled and you liked to play with people, seducing them, fabricating delusions to get all kinds of things you wanted. You knew that many girls envied you. It was enough to walk through the field to see a trail of slime behind you and a group of boys and girls following you as if you were a queen.

You were happy like that, believing yourself to be some kind of goddess capable of controlling everyone. It wasn't a good way to be, but it was the one you felt comfortable with. Seduce people, especially girls, normies or outcasts, and make them end up begging for your kisses.

You found exciting to see to what extent you achieved a kind of servitude, you were intrigued to get to know these people so you could manipulate them at will. If someone said that they didn't like you, they would be lying.

You liked to arouse the admiration of everyone who considered you their crush, to see how the people around you behaved, how they followed you through the corridors as you walked. You were like a tamer followed by hundreds of tame beasts who just wanted the privilege of your attention.

But lately it was getting boring for you to see the same gawking faces of your classmates. It was so easy for them to fall into your trap that it wasn't funny anymore. You would have to look for another challenge, get out of your own standards and prove your theory that you were irresistible not only for your classmates.

In one of your classes, specifically in botany, you found your next goal. Marilyn Thornhill was a new teacher, having only been at the school for a few months. She was nice, sweet and innocent.

From the first day you had noticed her. She was an attractive woman, weak according to you, who surely would have nothing to do against your charms. You've been debating what to do for a while. Trying to seduce a teacher went far beyond your behavior, but it also caused a knot in your stomach that you found pleasant, the morbidity of danger and above all, the curiosity for that smiling woman, who emanated tenderness with her voice.

“Okay guys, see you tomorrow,” the redhead said when the bell rang. The conservatory became a small chaos of students rushing out of there. It was your last class that day. You waited patiently for everyone to leave so you could be alone. Marilyn seemed distracted watering the plants.

You were a bit nervous, something not so normal for you, probably because you had never thought about crossing the moral line of authority figures. But she was really beautiful and her apparent innocence was something you should use in your favor, after all, innocence was the weak point of any of your "victims".

You leaned suggestively on the desk, trying to get her attention. She was humming absently and you cleared your throat. She turned to you, giving a little jump, and smiled with a hand on her chest.

“(Y/N), you’ve scared me,” she said to you tenderly. You smiled back at her in a way that you knew was seductive, sexy. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, well… I don't know, I'm just thinking about next week's exam and I have some doubts,” you said, without taking your eyes off hers, some that you thought were beautiful when you looked closely at them.

“Well, that's why I'm here, tell me what your doubts are about,” she told you kindly, leaving the watering can on the ground and approaching you.

“It's just that I have many doubts… maybe we should talk about it in another place, a more intimate one,” you said suggestively. Marilyn seemed confused by your words, looking around.

“Calm down honey, don't be ashamed of having doubts. It's something normal, in fact, not having them would seem strange to me,” she said with a confident smile.

You closed your fist. She surely wasn't the typical student, you should have known that. She wouldn't have sex in her mind all day. She was your teacher, she would be so much more mentally advanced than your classmates. They would be drooling with just mentioning "more intimate."

“I was wondering how that plant could sexually attract insects…” You said, remembering a previous class. Marilyn didn't seem surprised.

“Thanks to the pollen, with it they can emit pheromones that are practically identical to their species’ females,” she explained in an educational tone. You nodded slowly, looking for the most or less subtle way possible to throw a hint.

“It's curious…” You said, feigning interest.

“Yes, the truth is that it is quite curious,” the smiling redhead said, leaning next to you and looking at you tenderly. You knew she loved her work and not many people stopped to talk to her. That was an advantage for you.

“Tell me, Miss Thornhill, have you ever thought what would happen if people had that ability?” You asked with an innocent voice. She seemed to blink at that question and shifted involuntarily, coughing.

“Well, I think it would be a chaos,” she said, her cheeks flushing red and her hand going to the back of her neck. That question was quite awkward for someone in her position, but she still seemed to maintain her composure.

“I don't think so,” you said smiling, getting a little closer to her and passing your hand casually through hers, which she immediately pushed away.

"I… Well… Do you have any other questions?" Marilyn said, leaving her desk and pretending to water the plants again. You laughed quietly. Just one simple sentence and you had made her nervous. It looked like it was going to be pretty easy to play with her.

“I have a million questions,” you said. “You have already watered that plant,” you said amused. She looked at the pot and closed her eyes, rubbing them with her hand.

“Yes, it’s, it’s true. It's been an exhausting day...” She said, hiding the tremor of her hand.

“I suppose a beautiful woman like you will have some plan after class…” You said suggestively in a whisper. She seemed surprised by the question, but her innocent face was more powerful than the trembling of her hands.

“The truth is I haven’t. I'm afraid the plants are my only plans,” she said amused, making an effort not to appear nervous.

“It's a pity, anyone would want to have plans with you, Miss Thornhill,” you said, approaching her again. She had a wall behind her, she had nowhere to run.

“Wow... That's very kind of you, (Y/N),” she said with a small voice, avoiding looking into your eyes. “But call me Marilyn, I'm not as serious as other teachers.”

You nodded with a smile as you walked towards her. As expected, the redhead looked around for an escape route that didn't exist.

“As you wish, Marilyn,” you said, whispering into her ear.

She froze, her eyes widening.

“I think you should go with…. Your friends,” she said nervously, without giving importance to your more than direct gesture.

“I’m making you nervous?” You asked, still very close to her. Marilyn shook her head, smiling tenderly.

“Oh, no, no. It's just that… Well, my little beauties need me to take care of them…”She said, clearly lying.

“I wish I was one of your plants so that you would take care of me… Anyway, see you tomorrow,” you said, turning when you were inches away from her mouth and you walked towards the door with a mischievous smile.

“See… See you tomorrow,” she stammered.

The following days were that way. You started ignoring all your admirers and focused on pissing off your teacher. You always wore your uniform in a sexy way, and after that little encounter, you stopped buttoning up any more buttons on your shirt, exposing a lot of bare skin. You sat in the front row, and even though you knew she was dreading the moment when her bell would ring and class would end, you weren't going to give up easily. You always stayed with her, pretending to help her or asking questions that had to do with her subject, before taking action with many more hints and outbursts.

She always found a way to avoid your uncomfortable questions and your unexpected caresses. She would get nervous, but somehow she didn't try very hard to keep you away from her. After a week of failures, you began to wonder if she really was as innocent as she seemed. All her reactions told you that she was, but that turned you on more and more.

Gradually the situation became tense. You couldn't be sure, but you could say that from time to time her eyes went directly to your neckline or to the very high edge of your skirt. Maybe it was your imagination, but the idea of Marilyn guiltily wanting you made you melt in your late-night showers.

Precisely, one night is what you were going to do, take a shower as you did every day. You already had the fantasy that you wanted to think about while the hot water ran through your body, but a small frustration appeared in your thoughts.

She would get nervous, her cheeks would blush, but she didn't take the hints, or rather she didn't want to take them. That made you sigh as you undressed and toweled off. It was already too many days without seeing any progress. Despite your whispers in her ear, the caresses on her arm and the sensual comments, her firm convictions prevented her from going any further, even knowing that those glances at your body truly existed, even though she thought that you you didn't realize.

You were going to go crazy if you didn't do something about it and, looking at the towel, a terrible idea occurred to you, but it might just work.

“Don't wait for me, Div,” you said, leaving the bathroom and going to the door. Your siren roommate looked at you and took off her headphones.

“But, (Y/N), where are you going dressed like that? Who is your victim this time?” Your friend asked, used to your nocturnal comings and goings.

“If I told you, you wouldn't believe me,” you said, before walking out the door.

You walked half naked down the hall, wearing only the towel. It was very risky and it could cost you a visit to the principal’s office and even your possible expulsion, but you had the face of a good girl and that was worth it to get you out of any problem, although you weren't sure if it was worth it for what you intended to do.

You reached the door of Marilyn's room and cleared your throat, encouraging yourself. You were very confident, but you had never tried to exceed your own limits. With a clenched fist, you hit the wood three times and footsteps were heard inside the room.

“(Y/N)?, But… What are you doing here at this time of the night?” Marilyn asked, clearly surprised by your so… Informal outfit.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Marilyn, but it's just that…” You said, with a tender voice and bright eyes, like those of a sweet puppy. “I don't have hot water in my room and if I don't take a shower at night I can't sleep… I start to toss and turn in bed… And to sweat…” You sighed, while you ran your hand over the area of your chest that the towel covered.

“Um… Well I… I can notify maintenance if, if you want and…” the redhead said. You could see how her body trembled, and her gaze avoided any part of your body.

“He will already be sleeping, you said it, it's late,” you answered, thus avoiding another answer as absurd as that one. Marilyn smiled puzzled. Obviously she wasn't a fortune teller, she couldn't figure out what was going through your mind. You should be one step ahead of that sweet and innocent woman.

“Well, then I guess I can’t do anything…” She said, with a nervous smile, while you bit your lip in a subtle way, only she could realize that, and, due to the soft redness of her cheeks, you intuited that you got it “I can't think of a solution, unless I let you in and…”

“Oh, great, you're very kind,” you said, with all the impudence you had, entering the room. Marilyn's jaw dropped, but she didn't say anything, she just closed the door.

“Okay, (Y/N), you can use my bathroom, but hurry up, I'm tired and I'd like to sleep,” the redhead said, under your watchful eye.

“Thank you, Marilyn…” You sighed, giving her a kiss on the cheek that surely threw her off balance, and made her step back, awkwardly hitting her desk.

“I… Well, you're welcome… If, if you need something, I'll be there…. Well here,” she said, moving away from you and pointing to the bathroom door.

“Maybe you'd like to join…” You whispered, loud enough for her to hear. Marilyn turned her head and went pale. She soon shook her head with an even more nervous smile and sat up on the bed.

You shrugged and went into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and sighing. It seemed almost a miracle that you would break into a teacher's room at that time of night wearing nothing but your towel and she would just let you in. That woman intrigued you more and more. You knew she couldn't be made of stone, the nun you thought she was. Her eyes went to places on your body that seemed impossible when she thought you weren't looking. It couldn't be a coincidence. Also, you never tried to seduce someone who could call your parents, or who could punish you for it. Marilyn was your first victim outside of your same status within the academy. You didn't even know if she was interested in women, at least as much as you were.

It was a risk, but an acceptable one. Seeing her tremble with each of your awkward questions, or with the indiscreet ways of wearing your uniform were enough evidences for you to go to the next level. One that her innocence was completely unable to bear.

The hot water ran down your body while you thought about all that. On the one hand you felt some anger. No one had ever been able to ignore you so many times. You thought you were the queen of Nevermore, the beautiful and unattainable goddess that all your classmates dreamed of kissing, but the fact that you only attracted slimy teenagers was a blow to your self-esteem. You needed something more, you needed Marilyn Thornhill to fall into your traps so you wouldn't stop being almost invincible.

You sat in the bathroom, drying yourself off briefly, staring off into space, wondering what your next move would be. You had everything going for you. You were alone, in her room. You were just wearing that ridiculous towel. If it happened, it would be this night.

“Marilyn,” you said. “Can you come for a moment?”

A few seconds passed, but soon the wood could be heard creaking under her approaching footsteps. You opened your eyes and stopped grabbing the towel.

“What do you need?” It was heard on the other side of the door. You made a gesture of protest. Naturally, she was not going to enter,

“Come in. Don't worry, I'm dressed,” you said with a petulant tone. The door opened slowly and Marilyn stepped inside, looking at the floor.

“What happen? Have you been able to take a shower?” She asked, rubbing her hands together nervously.

“Oh, I have…” You said, getting up from the stool. “It was very... Hot,” you whispered in her ear. She looked up, sighing, probably because she wouldn't expect to see you with your towel on. “It's just that I forgot the lotion in my room… I was wondering if you had any body lotion or something.”

She smiled, looking inevitably at the towel that was starting to fall off your shoulders. In one quick move, she grabbed it just in time for you to stand naked in front of your teacher. Marilyn cleared her throat and laughed nervously, as if it had been a simple accident.

“Um, yes, I have one…” She said, moving away from you and starting to look in a small closet. Marilyn took out a bottle of cream and gave it to you, looking into your eyes at last. “Here, use as much as you want, I have more,” She told you, giving you the bottle. You took it, running your fingers through her hand in a caress that made her breath hitch.

“Thanks…” You sighed, sitting down again and starting to spread the cream on your leg. She should have already left the bathroom, but she was still there, petrified, looking at your toned legs when you thought you didn't notice.

You finally saw a glimpse of victory, and you began to caress yourself more slowly, lowering the towel slightly to gain access to your chest.

“Marilyn…” You whispered, looking troubled. “I can’t reach my back. Normally I ask anyone, but… do you mind?” You asked, turning around and brushing your hair from your back, letting the towel fall to rest on your hips.

“I…” Marilyn said, reaching for the bottle of cream automatically. “Okay.”

Her hands touched your skin and that made your hair stand on end. They were soft caresses, but trembling ones. The strange thing was that she didn't refuse, and that for you was already quite an achievement. Soon the caresses stopped being technical and her hands began to gently caress your shoulders, as if they were worshiping your skin.

You gasped subtly, with a smile and closing your eyes. She paused for a moment, but she continued her task, lowering your shoulder blades to the edge of sanity.

The sounds you were making were making her nervous. Little moans of pleasure, followed by sweet, innocent giggles. Just when you thought her hands would encircle your belly, she pulled away, breathing hard.

“That's it, (Y/N), if you don't need anything else…” Marilyn sighed, washing her hands and avoiding your gaze again.

You pursed your lips, but you felt like you had almost made it somehow. You would be a good and obedient girl, at least for the moment. Smiling tenderly, you walked out of the bathroom, pulling your towel up again. Marilyn followed you close behind, studying your movements. You could have left the room. The door was inches away from you, but you didn't. You turned and looked at her bed.

“Your bed seems bigger than mine…” You commented, your voice hoarse and full of lust. She looked at her bed and then at you, speechless. “It's very uncomfortable to have such a small bed when you want to have company, don't you think?” You asked, approaching her with slow steps, wanting to corner her again.

“You're not supposed to have company, (Y/N),” she said, trying to stand firm, not wanting to back down this time. You put a hand on your waist and clicked your tongue.

“Oh, and you can?” You asked amused, noticing her perfume already too close to you. “I have envy. I could do so many things in this bed... We could do so many things...” You whispered in her ear, without any need to inhibit yourself. It was your last movement. Direct aggression.

She looked you up and down, and when your teeth caught her earlobe, she finally reacted, but not in the way you expected.

You felt a strong tug on your hair, forcing you to bend your knees and bow your head. You emitted a small cry of pain, but your eyes never left hers. There was no trace of Marilyn in those dark eyes, no sign that the sweet, innocent botany teacher was there, pulling hard at your hair.

“I’m sick of you, (Y/N)…” The redhead hissed, not loosening her grip for a moment. “Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I don't know where you're going?”

You smiled as you tried to ease that tight grip. She had finally broken out, though you had no idea if for better or worse.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Marilyn,” you said, without abandoning your smug tone. She laughed almost out loud and pulled harder on your hair, bringing your head up to hers.

“You know it perfectly. You've been insinuating for weeks, trying to seduce me. Tell me, (Y/N), do you think you can do whatever you want to people just because you're a pretty girl?”

You laughed too, feeling the grip loosen a bit.

“I don't tell other people what to do, they do it because they want to,” you said, brushing your nose against hers. That only served to get a slap across your cheek.

“You are a spoiled and pathetic brat, who only seeks to attract attention. Crawling around like a whore to see if anyone pays any attention to her… What a bad way to live, (Y/N),” Marilyn told you, holding your cheeks with her free hand. Her words were almost hurtful, but you weren't stupid. You could see the lustful look on her face, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and her honeyed and slightly disturbing tone of voice.

“I bet what you want that this spoiled brat has made you hornier than you've ever been in your entire life, Marilyn…” You teased, earning yourself another slap, this time harder. You didn't give up, you looked at her defiantly.

“You're so cheeky… Didn't you learn to shut that big mouth?”

“Shut it for me then…” You said, freeing yourself from her grip and throwing  into her arms.

The kisses were messy, passionate but wild. The towel struggled to stay attached to your body, but with each push, it went a little lower, until it was completely gone. Marilyn did not stop, she barely let you breathe, running her hands over your back, scratching it with anger, with desire. You bit her neck and she did the same with your lips, almost to the point of making you bleed.

They weren't passionate kisses, it was a fight for domination, for having absolute control of the situation. You always thought that it was you who had that power, that there could be no one above you. You were wrong. Her scratches made you hunch your back and her teeth sank into your neck. You laughed maliciously when you took a breath, noticing how the atmosphere became tense, sexual and hot. Her leg was placed between yours, while her tongue attacked every corner of your mouth.

You definitely didn't expect that from a woman like her. It was a nice surprise. She stopped, pushing you against the wall. She didn't say anything, she just looked at you intensely, fixing her eyes on yours while her hand passed over your breasts. The redhead smiled, seeing how your nipples responded under her touch. Now you knew that you would be hers, your body had already given up.

“I'm sure you were going crazy thinking about this moment… Your legs trembled every time you looked at me…” You said, causing a somewhat calmer smile, but not without desire.

“I have imagined so many times having you here, at my mercy, that I have lost count, (Y/N). You're a bad girl, a slut who takes advantage of her beauty… It's about time someone taught you a lesson, don't you think?”

“Are you going to teach me lessons? You're not capable,” you said, removing the redhead's blouse. She didn't try to stop you, she just kept touching your whole naked body while her words sounded like an electric current.

“Don't get carried away by appearances, (Y/N), I have a lot of patience, but I'm not going to let myself be fooled by a brat like you. I rule here. And you shouldn't forget it.”

“I can't wait for you to teach me that lesson,” you sighed, unhooking her bra. She was so busy kissing your neck and grabbing your buttocks that she didn't even seem to notice.

“You may regret those words…” She told you, moving away from you and grabbing your arm, throwing you against the bed.

You gasped and let yourself fall on it, climbing until your head was on the pillow. Now she was no longer your teacher, but your predator. Bare-chested, she moved closer to you, climbing onto the bed.

Marilyn raised your hands above your head without saying a word. You knew you shouldn't move them, that her intention was to keep you immobile. Ditching the last few items of clothing she had left, she climbed on top of you, her legs on either side of your hips.

“You're so desperate... Couldn't the capricious girl have her candy when she wanted?” She asked in a childish tone, beginning to move her hips.

Your gaze was focused on her body, something that you did nothing but imagine in your dreams, in your nights in the shower. It was much better than you expected, besides, that new harsh and domineering personality of your sweet teacher was something that your body was unable to calmly process. Your hips moved at the same rate.

“I always get what I want,” you said, gasping at the erotic contact between your legs. You were hot, but her heat was also considerable. She smiled at you, watching each of the gestures you made every time she moved.

“No, honey… You are very wrong. Only what I want will be done... So if you want me to fuck you like the whore you are, better shut up and obey me,” Marilyn said, grabbing your cheeks again and kissing you briefly on the lips.

“Please, Ms. Thornhill, fuck me,” you said, in a helpless little lamb voice. She, as expected, shook her head, pulling her body away from yours. You moaned at the lack of contact, but you would soon shut up. Her hand ran up your leg, digging her nails into your skin, until reaching your crotch almost aching with frustration. You always got everything you wanted when you wanted it. You never had to beg, see yourself in the situation of having to ask for permission, or beg for your wishes to be fulfilled. That night you would discover that you were not invulnerable, that the woman you desired and that you were even beginning to love wanted to teach you precisely that lesson. It would not be easy to achieve your goal.

“Look at you… So wet… The great and beautiful (Y/N) desperate… I'm sure many people would pay to see this,” Marilyn said, caressing your slippery folds, pinching your clit and making you moan to the point of losing complete notion of time and space. You didn't hear her words, you only felt her skilful caresses, and a voice in your head that begged to ask that her fingers finally enter inside you, to end with that frustration.

“Please, please.” It didn't take long for you to give up your cocky and immature way of being. Soon, like hers, your facade crumbled and you turned into a pathetic girl, squirming from her caresses, which only surrounded your entrance.

Marilyn laughed, pleased to see you weak after so long. Her fingers played slowly entering you, but coming out instantly, just as you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

“Shhh, hush, honey. Mommy has to teach you a lesson, remember?” She told you with a soft voice, removing her hand from your crotch. You looked at her confused by that way of speaking, but you were so excited that you had just discovered how hot those words made you.

“What lesson?” You asked, reaching out your hand to caress her chest. She didn't answer, but he grabbed it, running it gently over her bare skin, watching how you melted into its softness, how your hips kept moving, begging for contact.

“A very important one, honey. You have to learn to know what your place is...” Marilyn whispered, moving above you.

“And what is it?” You asked curiously. The redhead laughed, placing her legs on either side of your head. You already knew what was going to happen and you grabbed her legs, caressing all the skin you could. Marilyn gripped the headboard and looked at you with a half smile.

“Under me,” she replied, before lowering her body towards you. Soon a lot of sensations invaded your body. You could barely breathe. She was almost as wet as you were, you could feel it, taste it. There was nothing but Marilyn around you. Your whole world became wet, hot. You moved as you could, because she wouldn't let you stay still. The excitement was maximum, much more than if she had agreed to your wishes. Her moans were the most sensual you'd ever heard in your life, just as you'd imagined. High-pitched whispers and incomprehensible words, which she hissed at you.

“That's it, honey...”

You couldn't answer even if you wanted to, you were short of breath and your mouth was too busy pleasing the redhead. Your tongue moved erratically, eliciting indiscreet moans as you circled her clit and sucked on it. You no longer thought about being the best at everything, about having everything you wanted. Maybe that was her lesson, you didn't know, you just kept moving, kissing her, breathing hard.

Your tongue flicked over her folds as her hips began to shake. You would recognize those movements anywhere. She was close, and that meant your release too. Surreptitiously, you decided to add one more point of pleasure, caressing yourself while she seemed to go crazy with your mouth. Surely if she had seen you she would have been angry, but your face was soaked, which meant that at that moment she only cared about the pleasure that you made her feel.

You moaned against her body as your fingers trailed down your bare skin, grabbing your breasts to send hundreds of electrical currents through your nervous system.

“Honey, I'm going… I'm going…” Marilyn said, her voice cracking, moving quickly against your face. “I'm going to do it, (Y/N), and I'm not going to leave…”

That statement only added fuel to the fire, and made your tongue move faster until her back buckled and one of her hands let  the headboard go only to grab your head and prevent you from moving. When she finally broke free, she dropped your sodden head back to the pillow and, chuckling in satisfaction, she lowered herself back to your hips.

“Have you learned anything, (Y/N)?” She asked you, caressing your body while her hips still shook from the previous sensation. “Surely now you know where you belong.”

You nodded, catching your breath. The lack of air didn't matter to you now that you could recover it and your walls were contracting in a small silent and discreet orgasm, which obviously wasn't enough to calm all your desire.

Marilyn leaned down and grabbed your hair tight again.

“Say it, (Y/N), who do you belong to?” She asked with a threatening tone.

“To… To you…”

“Right, (Y/N), it seems that you have learned something,” Marilyn said, looking at you with eyes of desire, caressing the area between your legs again. You nodded and finally let yourself go. You had acted as she wanted and now you would have a reward. Suddenly a strange sensation made you feel bad. Was that what she felt? Was it so horrible to be begging for a divinity as you did?

You did not have time to think about your behavior, because what you expected so much for a long time happened. Her fingers were slow and that was what Marilyn wanted, to make you suffer even when she complied with your requests.

“Please…” You sighed, moving erratically under her touch. “I need you.”

The redhead looked at you and stopped, the complete opposite of what you wanted. But it was only for a moment. Soon your wishes were fulfilled. Her fingers moved quickly in and out of you. You were an absolute mess of moans and pleas. Surely that excited her, to feel how the most coveted student of Nevermore turned into a pleading piece of meat that begged for her touch.

“I can't take it anymore, Marilyn… I'm very close.”

“Oh, does the girl want to cum? Should mommy allow her?” She said with a mocking and satisfied voice, while her movements slowed down.

“Please…” You whispered, suffering from the way your teacher played with you, and above all, because you would let yourself do anything as long as it was her. She had already caught you and you hadn't even noticed.

She laughed, knowing that she wouldn't have to do anything else. Soon all your muscles tensed and you were finally able to free yourself. You stifled a scream that would surely wake up the entire school, as your hand gripped her hair. Fortunately, she did nothing to break free of your grasp. The scene below her was more worthwhile and you had the nice feeling that it wouldn't be the last time, a strange feeling, as if your longing to feel loved was now only limited to Marilyn. She had managed to conquer you, to have you at her mercy, and it would not be easy to refuse anything she asked of you. Now you were her puppy.