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mj0702 · 12 days

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The other Bronze – Part 15

The rest of camp went by like a blur. Sarina continued to include you more and more in the daily tasks of training and organisation of the national team and slowly you found joy in your new role (the added bonus of being allowed to yell at Lucy to run faster or to yell at Leah to bring her knees up higher just played right into it). The dutch Head coach saw with growing pride how you transitioned into your position as her new addition of staff. Getting you to sign the contract was one of a task. You didn't give in easy having the legal department rewrite your contract multiple times adding clauses to protect your relationships – if it was the family relationship with Lucy (and let's be honest Keira) or your romantically relationship with Georgia. You also pushed the limit of salary until the very last penny – not that you were able to access the money since it will go straight in an account which was under observation by your guardian Jill Scott. You yourself had a deal with Jill that if you needed some extra pocket money she would take it out of your account but only if you could give a good reason.

Just like now when you were about to book a whole as bag pipers band to pipe “Scotland the Brave” at exactly midnight outside Sarinas room to welcome her new age – aka her birthday. You knew that your adoptive Mom hated bag pipes with passion since it was too squeaky and too loud in her opinion but since you were technically Scottish you couldn't care less. Also you didn't give a flying fudge (Keira banned any swearword since Less, Toons and you went a little overboard one evening at dinner watching a mens game on the tablet) that you would wake up probably the whole hotel – you loved your Mama Rina too much to care. Of course Jill was straight on board with your shenanigans being a big kid herself. So you spent around two hours looking for the perfect pipers and comparing different prices. You settled on three pipers, an additional drummer and three songs. “Scotland the Brave”, “Auld lang syne” and “When the Saints go Marching in” - all very squeaky and loud. You were sure Mama Rina would love you for your great Birthday present – she'll probably strangle you to death but it was worth it.

You were so happy with your purchase that you entered the dining room whistleing and smiling.

“What got you all smiley Bubs?” your sister asked you smiling too seeing you in a good mood

“Just a good day” you answered smiling even wider

“Why do I feel trouble?” Keira now asked appearing next to you

“Maybe that extra Banana at breakfast?” you looked at her innocently

“No.. no it has nothing to do with the banana” the blonde mused giving you a once over

“You're just being paranoid” you waved her off skipping over to your girlfriend and best friends

“I just know you too well” Keira yelled after you and you (again) waved her off with a “yeah yeah”

“She's up to something” the blonde said turning around to Lucy who was about to stuff a bread roll in her mouth stopping mid air

“Let her be Kei... she's slowly getting back to normal after her episode in Barcelona... you and I both know she's still pretending a lot and me freaking out with G didn't help” Lucy said as she watched you shoving Tooney around laughing loudly when the brown haired girl ran into Leah.

“Oh it certainly didn't... and we WILL have a talk about it when we're back in Spain” the blonde answered sending your sister an angry glare “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn't... I just saw her crying and my brain short circuit...” your sister said slowly

“On one side I understand Luce... I do... because seeing her cry is the worst thing in the world – but you can't do that... you can't lose control like this” Keira said softly

“I know” Lucy huffed finally taking a bite of her bread roll

“I DARE YOU LESS!!” Keira and Lucys eyes snapped immediately over to you when you laughed loudly

“No... NO... you can dare all you want but NO” Lessi answered shaking her head frantically her eyes wide

“You know what that means right??” you smirked evilly at her

“I'm NOT declaring you as me football-wife on Social Media” the blonde huffed

“Then suck it up and eat them” you pointed at the offending vegetables on the plate in the middle of the table

“No” Less whined desperately “Keira please... help” she turned to her teammate begging

“Eat your veggies Less....” Keira rolled her eyes seeing that you three just causing chaos again

“But” the light blonde whined

“Less... I want to eat my lunch in peace” now Leah interrupted her glaring “.... if you won't let me eat in peace I'll shove them Brussels sprouts down your throat by myself”

“Wow.... okay” Lessi looks at her capitan shocked and taken aback “No need to get violent – not me fault you miss your girlfriend”

“Don't” Leah warned her teammate pointing at her threatening

“Let's go over there... she can simmer in her bad mood alone” you said grumbling pulling Lessi along “Bet Millie and Rach are very happy to see us”

“Okay Lee... what's up?” Georgia asked watching you plopp down next to Rachel and on top of Millie

“I do miss my girl... but I'm nervous G... we're playing Spain in three Days and I'm nervous” the blonde spilled her thoughts to her best friend

“It's just a friendly Lee... no need to stress about it okay...” your girlfriend said softly “... we use some of the new plays we trained and you'll Skipper the shit out of that game”

“Thanks G... really” Leah said sighing a little more relaxed “Now please go and get your girl under control” she pointed over to you where you were concentrating on snipping peas at Sarina and some staff members under the low cheering of Millie and Rachel

“Oh shit” Georgia said quickly as she followed Leahs gaze scrambling off towards you

“Okay everyone listen up!!” Sarina said loudly when all the Lionesses were seated “As you know we arranged a friendly against Spain in a couple of days – we'll go over the Line-up later today but I want to inform you beforehand that there will be some significant changes due to our new tactics. I plan on giving everyone some minutes – if not this game than the next one which is four days later. Also I want to announce y/n Bronze as new addition to our Team. She'll be part of our analytics staff and she already showed her value since she pointed out some good moves for us to get past Spains defence”

“And Ona” you threw in chewing on your Steak you got for lunch

“And Ona Batlle yes” Sarina rolled her eyes but everyone saw it was just for show “Don't interrupt me and don't speak with your mouth full... I know you got raised better than this”

“Yes ma'am” you said your voice muffled by the potato you decided to push into your mouth before answering smiling at your adoptive Mom widely

“Walsh.... get your kid under control” the Dutch said and everyone laughed at Keiras offended face

“Excuse me.... the last time I checked she listened to the name Bronze” Keira exclaimed picking up the banter with her head coach

“While that is true I can't really say “Lucy get your kid under control”...” Sarina answered pointing at Lucy who was about to shovel some pasta into her mouth – just like you did with your potato

“It wouldn't be much use” the dutch said flatly and everyone started to laugh as both Bronzes looked up sporting the same caught look with both of your forks mid air

“I get your point” Keira huffed her face deadpan “You two really can't help yourselves can't you”

“What?” both you and Lucy asked confused

“Nothing... you keep on shovelling” Keira said rolling her eyes once more

You and Lucy looked at each other before shrugging your shoulders and continuing eating

“As I said... we have some new tactics which might look strange on paper and will be confusing at first but I like how y/n gets a read on things and thinks outside of the box” the dutch said seriously “You all noticed how I included her more this Camp because I think she's now at a point very we can profit from her exceptional eye and solutions – yes the upcoming games are just friendlies but that won't stop us from playing our best”

“Sorry to interrupt again but.... the food gets cold” you said raising your hand while already talking

“If you wouldn't interrupt me all the time I would be done already” Sarina threw you a warning glance

“Sorry” you mumbled “But... can you maybe... talk faster Mama Rina”

“If you have questions my door is always open” the dutch said her patience running low “You can also ask the new member of staff but I doubt you get a satisfying answer out of her”

Everyone laughed again as you hummed agreeing pushing your vegetables on your girlfriends appetizer plate much to Keiras dismay

“What is THAT??” your girlfriend looked up from her plate pulling a face while you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing

“Shouldn't you know babe? You ARE half-Jamaican after all” you smirked as the table bursted out laughing

“So funny” Georgia said flatly “How did you pull that off?”

“Just asked the Chef very nicely to make something from home since you miss the Reggae feeling so much” you smirked very happy with yourself

“I will get you back for that” your girlfriend growled “but back to me initial question... WHAT is THAT??”

“How should I know... that's your traditional food” you shrugged your shoulders grinning

“I regret the day you found that video” Georgia grumbled as she stabbed her fork into the brownish-yellowish dish

“You love me too much to actually be mad” you smirked watching how your girlfriend struggles to actually bring the fork to her mouth “And be grateful – they made me feed Toons dog food”

“Dog food??” Georgia asked shocked

“It was chicken paste” Toons rolled her eyes

“I'm 100% positive it was dog food” you countered “they just told you it was chicken so you wouldn't throw up and sue them.... now come on babe... taste it and tell me if it tastes like home” you grinned

“I really REALLY want to kick you right now” your girlfriend grumbles but finally got over herself quickly stuffing the food loaded fork into her mouth

“It's.... actually not bad... It's really good actually” G shrugged her shoulders “It's a curry... I like curries”

“See.... I did something nice for you there....” you grinned

“But what curry.. definitely not chicken” your girlfriend mumbled as she poked the meat on the plate

“Wait... Jesse...” you yelled over to the buffet where some chefs were standing handing out food

“Yes?” one of the shorter ones looked over to you

“What meat is that??” you shouted back lifting your girlfriends plate up

“Goat” came the answer immediately and you could see how Georgias eyes grow wide in shock and you swear you saw her heave for a second there

“Thanks” you said and he lifted his hand in reply

“Was... was he serious?” your girlfriend asked as the colour slowly left her face

“Naah... it's beef” you said having mercy on her

“You are so SO cruel” Georgia mumbled as she picked up another fork shovelling it into her mouth

“It's not beef is it?” Millie leaning over to you whispering in your ear

You just shook your head smirking and chuckle under your breath while Millie laughed.

“What's so funny?” your girlfriend asked suspicious

“Millie asked if I think Carmona finally declares her love for Lucy by asking her out on a date” you lied quickly while Millie looked at you confused but nodded when you kicked her ankle under the table

“Yep,... I mean... it's obvious” the blonde kept nodding

“Oh Ew... guys I'm eating” your girlfriend said her voice laced with disgust

“Yeah well... I would have to live with her...” you shuddered “... Lucy!!!” you turned around in your seat facing your sister

“What??!” your sister looked up alarmed

“You are NOT allowed to reciprocate Carmonas feelings!!!!” you looked at her seriously

“What?!” Lucy looked confused

“I want to keep Ona” you whined

“What the hell are you talking about??” your sister was so lost

You just shook your head in disbelieve turning back around. Your sister looked at you like you completely lost your plot turning to Keira

“What is she talking about?” Lucy asked

“Don't ask me... you speak Bronze better than me...” the blonde shrugged continuing to eat her salad

“What does she want now with Carmona?” your sister looked at Keira lost

“How should I know? I've been here as long as you...” Keira now said a little annoyed “... just chalk it up to her being her and eat”

“Hey what are you talking about?” Lucy said as she pulled your chair around so that you were facing her

Unlucky to her you were just digging into your pasta (your second dish for the day) and with the sudden movement the pasta didn't only spill over Millie but also Lucys face – and the back of Keiras neck who stopped her fork mid-air and by the way her shoulders moved you know there was a storm coming your way. Lucy herself just stood there blankly spaghetti with pesto sauce and antipasti running down her face.

“Ehrm... Lucy you have a little...” you said lowly gesturing towards her face desperately trying to hold in your laughter as a piece of eggplant sliding down your sisters cheek

The whole room was quiet so you could hear a piece of dust dropping like it'd would be a jackhammer. Everyone looked at you, Lucy, Millie and Keira shock on their faces. No one dared to move while you could see Rachel, Ella, Less and Niamh trying to hold in their laughter. Rach shook with silent laughter pulling out her phone recording a small clip for her Instagram of the sliding eggplant – fans would see it later with the caption “perfect SLIDE tackle by Egg Plant Tough Bronze”. Needless to say the fans had a field day with this clip and half the soccer world commented on it. Best comment came from María León herself tagging Ingrid complaining why Lucy was allowed to play with food when she herself wasn't even allowed to build a rice volcano. Ingrid chose to ignore that comment instead asking Lucy if this was her secret to be such an outstanding player.

“Bitsy” you heard Keira growl dangerously low

“It wasn't my fault... Lucy pulled me over” you quickly said as you jumped out of your chair walking backwards away from the blonde who still hadn't moved one inch

“Stay” the blonde said strictly still not moving

You thought quickly about bolting but as usual Keira knew you better

“You can't outrun me... don't even try” she said as she finally put down her fork

“I mean... I can try” you said desperately

“No... you can't... the only way you'd make it out of here is if you'd jump through a window – because I will be faster at the door than you” Keira said as she SLOWLY turned around

“It wasn't me” you said taking another step back hitting something with the back of your knees and suddenly found you in the lap of the one and only Lauren James.

You looked at her she looked at you both of you getting big wide eyes before you jumped up again knocking against Beth chair who lost balance and fell backwards. Only person stopping her hitting the ground was Lotte who reacted quickly grabbing Beth shirt who ripped a bit but held enough so Beth wouldn't end up with a concussion.

“Bitsy.... just stay still for god sakes” Keira said in a warning tone “You'll knock out the whole squad before we even get the chance to play the world cup”

“Sorry” you apologized quickly getting rooted in place “but at least I don't knock you all up”

That did it for Rach, Tooney and Less who bursted out laughing while your girlfriend squeaked quietly blushing again.

“Why do I have pasta on the back of my neck?” Keira asked looking at you expectantly

“Lucy pulled me around as I had me fork full of spaghetti” you explained quickly your Manchester accent coming through – like ever so often when you get nervous.

“Millie?” the blonde gave her teammate a side eye

“Truth... wasn't her fault this time” Brickwall Bright confirmed and now Keira turned towards Lucy narrowing her eyes

“Lucia... with me” the blonde said lowly and your sister shook her head scared “NOW”

“You tell Ona I loved her right?” Lucy looked at you pleadingly knowing she most like won't survive Keiras wrath

“I'll make sure she's taken care of” you nodded “I'll visit her as often as I can”

“Good...” your sister started before there was an angry “LUCY!!” from outside the room

All of you heard the door fell shut and muffled argument from outside it. You actually winced a few times feeling sorry for Lucy – she didn't mean for this to happen either. But Keira had straight rules for eating times. No whining. No argument over food. Only plating as much as you can eat. And NO throwing food – never ever. So her ending up with some courgette in the back of her neck was bad. Bad for Lucy. And in hindsight bad for you because now you have to find something new to eat now. You looked around the room – who at this point got back to light chatter and eating. You spotted Leahs plate who was still fairly full and decided after checking the ingredients that it was worth stealing. So you slandered over patting her right shoulder. The second she turned around looking you quickly snatched the plate with your left hand hiding it behind your back

“Yes y/n?” the blonde capitan looked at you expectantly

“You think Keira will kill Lucy?” you asked as a disguise pouting slightly

“No... you know them... Keira will yell at her – Lucy will look very apologetic and say she's sorry a hundred times and it will be okay again” Leah said softly still not catching up that you stole her plate

“You sure” you asked again just for good measure

“Yes Poppy... I'm sure” Leah smiled soothingly

“Okay... thanks Lee” you said smiling a little turning around walking away quickly

“Poppy!!” you heard Leah call out angry when she realized what you've done

“Love you Capitana” you yell back sitting down at your table between Millie and Toons starting to shovel down Leahs food

“I would've shared with you too, you know babe” your girlfriend said as she watched you not even chewing the food just swallowing it down.

“I know babe... but I didn't want to steal from you” you said with your mouth full which earned you a hard slap on the back from Keira

“Where do you come from?” you asked shocked half the food falling back on the plate as she slapped your head

“From ripping your sister a new one... don't talk with your mouth full or you'll be the next in line” the blonde looked at you angry

“Sorry mom” you apologized after you swallowed the remaining food

“And don't shovel it down your throat like you're starving” Keira scolded you

“But I am...” you started to get shut down by a glare from the blonde which made you shrink in your chair

“Damn... Walsh has it out for the Bronzes” Tooney mumbled under her breath but not quiet enough for Keira not to hear

“I can expand my list, Toone” Keira barked out

“Kei...” you looked at her scared

You saw Keira take a deep breath before looking at you

“Sorry Bitsy” the blonde features soften “Your sister just pushed a button”

“Can we talk please” you said lowly your eyes never leaving hers

“Come” was the only thing Keira said already walking away

Outside the door she waited for you as you closed the door quietly behind you

“What's wrong Kei? I mean you're kinda mean when you're on your period but that was... two weeks ago” you said keeping your distance from her

“I honestly don't know Bitsy... and getting smacked by antipasti in the back of my neck certainly didn't help” the blonde huffing

“You miss your girl?” you ask fishing for pointers on Keiras bad mood

“Too, yes... but all around it tires me out... I don't know why” Keira sighed deeply “and Spain in three days?? Even more tiring”

“You need a break huh?” you asked understanding “is a lot lately”

“Yeah... but I won't get a break until end of season” the blonde started to massage her temples

“I could kick your ankle” you offered

“No thanks Bitsy” Keira laughed “But thank you for the kind offer”

“No problem” you smiled “But seriously – I can take you out of the starting XI... give you a little break at least”

“In all seriousness... that would be very appreciated” the blonde sighed out happily “Wait... how do you know who is starting XI?”

“Who do you think put the XI together? Mama Rina left it all up to me – it's just a friendly and I have few ideas I want to try out” you shrugged your shoulder

“You are exceptional Bitsy....” Keira smiled at you and pushed some lose hair out of your face “... never lose your light”

“Jesus Kei... I'm not dying” you rolled your eyes

“No... but you're young and the position you just took on brings a lot of pressure with it...” the blonde said and you heard her serious tone “... don't lose your light”

“I'll do my best” you offered a smile “I don't even know how long I'm gonna stay... at the moment it's still fun... so yeah – let's see”

“Good” Keira nodded happily “You want to go back?”

“Not really no... Lunch was a mess... and left me hungry” you pouted

“I tell Sarina.... you want me to send G after you?” the blonde winked

“You would do that? What about Luce?” you looked at her with big pleading eyes

“Just play along...” Keira smirked and before you could respond what she meant the blonde started yelling at you “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO COMMENT ON A TOPIC THAT IS ABSOLUTLEY NOT YOUR BUISNESS”

“I JUST ASKED” you yelled back not knowing what Keiras plan is

“GET OUT!” the blonde yelled but smiled at you “That should be enough to get your sister of your case – she knows better than to question me... now go and send G your location...”

You pressed a sweet kiss to Keiras cheek before running off. Keira watched you rounding the first corner before she took a deep breath put on her game face and shoved the door to the dining room open aggressively. She was met with the sight of scared face from her teammates and smirked internally.

“What?” Keira barked and all newbies quickly ducked their heads not wanting to upset the veteran any further

“Jesus Kei” Georgia looked at her best friend confused “Leave the kiddos alone”

“Sorry... YOUR girlfriend just pissed me off” the blonde growled but winked at G subtly

“I go talk to her” your girlfriend huffed out already pushing herself out of her chair immediately catching on what Keira tried to tell her

“Wait... I'll come too” Lucy quickly said trying to stand up as Keira pushed her back down

“You sit” the blonde said lowly

“Yes ma'am” Lucy mumbled sitting down again

“Okay Ladies” Sarina said loudly getting everyones attention “Time to talk game tactic”

You were sitting between Georgia (who subtly intertwined your pinkies) and Tooney who yapped about some dog she saw at the park earlier.

“I worked closely with our new addition..” the dutch started before you interrupted her – again

“My parents gave me a name you know... and it's not “new addition”...” you huffed annoyed until you saw Sarina smirk

“Not?” the dutch smirked knowing from Keira of your little game so you could get away at Lunch – without informing the head coach

“I mean I got called a lot of names over the years... but “new addition” wasn't one of them” you smirked back engaging in the banter with your “boss”

“I spoke with y/n” Sarina rolled her eyes for good measure “... we – agreed...”

“Agreed? I told you what would help us win and you said “do it”....” you interrupted again knowing no one else would get away with it

“We AGREED to try a few new things when we play against Spain” the dutch ignored you expectantly “We will start with a.... wait why am I talking about this... Liefje why don't you come up here and take over?”

“What?!” you looked at her shocked shaking your head lightly

“Come on” Sarina waved you to the stage smiling “It's your tactic – you worked hard on it so you get to explain it”

You let out a big breath as Georgia squeezed your hand offering silent support before you pushed yourself up and walking up the stage standing next to your Mama

“Okay Ladies and Lucy” you said loudly waiting for your sisters signature “Hey!!!” before you continued smiling “I spent a LOT of time analysing games... plays... players... last Euros was good.. all of you played amazing BUT as Sarina said before – it was close... if you strip it down to just the play Spain WAS the better team... you got lucky with Alex goal in overtime.... REALLY lucky... Toons that leader was world class but Spain bounced back because ALL of you felt too secure for a second... I know this is just a friendly but we'll play it like it's the final again – we're back on home soil, we play Spain again but we'll... throw them off a little... so I still have some painkillers left from me wrist injury – we split them up and then I'll let you run lose... that will throw at least the Barca department off...” you grinned as Lucy groaned

“It was a mistake okay... I AM sorry” your sister said while Keira chuckled beside her

“You have to do more than say you're sorry Bronze...” you smirked “... I want that world cup”

“I'll do my best okay” Lucy smiled at your display of competitiveness

“Okay... so back to the game... we're playing at Old Trafford this time... who's idea that was? Mine – I just love that place and it hold a lot of history... So tomorrow we're moving up to Manchester whoever has problems with it... suck it up or leave” you simply said and Sarina snorted next to you “For tactics... we're going back to the roots of football... like... waaay back – we're gonna play a “Scottish furrow”... anyone any idea what that is... the dinosaur in the room maybe...??” you look straight at your sister smirking cheeky

“Oh get lost...” Lucy threw at you smiling back at you feeling happy about how much you obviously enjoy your new role

“Anyone... Scottish furrow??” you asked into the room looking from player to player

The younger ones shook their head embarrassed as the veterans wrecked their brain have heard of it before but couldn't place it. You looked at Sarina for help.

“It's a 2-3-5 formation... it's dubbed a little outdated but as y/n said – it's back to the roots” Sarina explained before nodding towards you telling you to take over again

“Spain is overall Goliath... they have a VERY strong defence, a quick working midfield and ruthless forwards... we're David in this scenario so we have to play more tactical – we'll have fast forwards a intelligent midfield AND a Brickwall of defence so our Keeper hopefully will have a relaxed game... Mary pack a book because if your Team does its job like I tell them to do it you won't have a single shot on target” you said seriously but joked as well – you started to really enjoy the situation of talking about tactics

“A 2-3-5?” Leah asked confused “How will that work with our playing style?”

“Easy... we let them run into the brickwall – not Millie but the whole defence – take the ball off them and use the momentum in our favour and just.... run” you answer looking at Leah serious “Spain will think they dictate the game... the pace... the tactic... the ball... but you guys will let them run into the wall every time... Spain is thankfully a opponent that gets frustrated easily... the second they start getting frustrated and sloppy is the second we switch back to a 3-3-4 and kill em... if my calculations are correct and the bring the line up I expect them to bring we should get out of this friendly at least 5 – 0”

“5 – nothing??” Lucy exclaimed shocked

“Yes... and we don't even have to bring the A+ team... we need A+ defence... midfield and forwards can be newbies... so whoever wants their first cap against Spain... come find me after the meeting... I set up a preliminary line up but I already have a change in midfield since Keira is out for the game” you said honestly your eyes not leaving your sisters

“Kei... you okay?” Leah immediately turned around to her best friend concerned

“Just tired Lee...” the blonde smiled back weakly “Talked to Sarina Jr. over there and she offered to take me out of the line up which I seriously appreciate”

You swell with pride when Keira referred to you as “Sarina Jr” knowing how much respect the team has for the dutch head coach.

“You need to remember Leah... she's one of the old ones now...” you smirked as Keira threw you a playful glare

“We don't comment on players ages” Sarina told you off flicking your ear lightly “We call it experience”

“Sorry... my bad... she's experienced Leah.... she want's to give the chance to the younger players to get.... experience too” you smirked

“I can make her run laps in your name K” Leah offered helpfully

“I can make her run laps in my own name too Lee” Keira laughed and you swallowed hard knowing just how well Keira could make you run laps

“My knee...” you said carefully

“Don't even try Bitsy... your sister is the one with the bad knee” the blonde smirked

“Hello.... three ACL's” you exclaimed outraged which caused everyone in the room to burst out laughing

“Oh don't even start... your knees where fine when you ran away from Alexia a few days ago” Keira rolled her eyes still smiling

“She didn't leave me a choice” you defended yourself

“She left you the choice of not running off” Lucy threw in

“Yeah like you would've stayed when Alexia Putellas threatens you” you snorted

“Even Mapí doesn't dare to run away from Capi” your sister said “So why did YOU think you could outrun her? You don't even know your way around Nuo”

“Well... I didn't really think... I acted on instinct” you said like it was obvious

“Well your instinct ended your ass in the gym with La Reina” Lucy smirked and turned to Leah “When Ale delivered her back all she did is sleep... for TWELVE hours”

“I need that workout... can you ask her? The possibility of shutting your sister up for twelve hours straight is just a dream come true” Leah laughed at your offended face

“Oh look... Leah doesn't want to play against Spain” you grinned looking at Sarina who just shook her head smiling

“You wouldn't dare to bench me Poppy...” the blonde capitan smirked back happy that the team got back to it's bantering self

“Oh but I would.. because according to my contract I'm allowed to make decisions about the team, the tactics AND the players – all in agreement with the head coach herself of course” you smirked and pulled out your contract “So yes... I can bench you... because I think I saw you having some discomfort in your knee sitting down... right?”

“You little shit” Leah laughed knowing you weren't serious

“Learned from the best” you smirked looking at your sister who smiled proudly “Back to business... 2-3-5... Chloe and Meado up top... I like the way you two work … Hillary... congratulations to your first Cap... you'll get flanked by Franny and J-Park... defenders... Millie and Leah MidDef – Luce on the right, Alex on the left... Lotte you're my false 6... “ you said looking at every single player waiting for their okay before moving on to the next one

“A false 6?” Keira asked confused

“Yeah... I want Lotte to be the connection between midfield and defence” you explained “throw the spaniards a little off... you'll run a lot Lotte is that okay?”

“Sure... I'm fit” the defender smiled

“Okay... if you get tired ask for a sub... J-Cart can come in for Alex and Alex moves up... that is if we're not back to the 3-3-4 at this point anyway – it's still just a friendly... no need to kill yourselves out there” you said and Sarina smiled proudly.

You did an exceptional job. You really took your job very seriously and still you made sure to explain your decision to make it understandable why you were starting players over others and you still had the lightness of a teenager

“Depending on if Spain takes out bait we make two subs at half … Stanway for Clinton – believe me Hillary... 45 Minutes is more than overwhelming for a first cap and Toons for Franny” you kept going with your game tactic feeling comfortable and honestly free talking about something which gave you the feeling of being part of the team

“Sounds good...” Sarina smiled approvingly “... what are your other subs?”

“Around 70th/75th minute... James for Chloe... Less for Meado... I would leave one slot open IF something happens...” you turned towards the head coach

“So you leave the defence like it is... who's in Goal?” the dutch tested your plan

“I actually just changed my mind... Mary... you have the day off... Hampton... if you're up to it?” you looked at the young Goalkeeper

“Yes... yes I'm up for it” the young woman smiles and nods her head frantically

“See... that's the enthusiasm I want” you grinned “None of you asshats were as happy as she is right now”

“Because she doesn't know you as well as we do” Lucy threw in

“Esme... you start against Spain... congratulations... Luce... I think a saw an old camping chair standing around at home... you have enough time to go home and get that chair since you won't put a foot on the pitch” you smiled sweetly and this time Keira bursted out laughing at your sisters face

“You can't...” Lucy exclaimed but you interrupted her

“Oh but I can..” you sing-songed waving your contract

“Sarina” your sister whined

“I gave her the lead for this... her call” the dutch shrugged smiling widely

“Oh come ooooon” Lucy whined again which caused the older players in the room to chuckle

“What... thinking about it I do you a favor... now you can drool over your girlfriend the whole 90 Minutes...” you smirk

“Sometimes I really wish we wouldn't have turned around when Dad forgot you in Tesco” your sister mumbled

You stepped through the tunnel onto the pitch at Old Trafford. You loved that Stadium – even if it's the home of United and you yourself grew up as a City-girl. This place held so many amazing Stories and Memories. You turned once around yourself looking at the still empty seats that in a few hours will contain nearly 75.000 fans – it was just a friendly but the tickets were gone in just under two hours. One of your dreams back then when you were still playing was to play a derby against United right here – Old Trafford. 74.310 seats and all of them will be manned/womend tonight. You remembered the last Derby you attended with Lucy. You had a small smile playing on your lips remembering the crowd, the cheers and chants, the game itself – it was like it happened yesterday.

“Hey” you heard softly behind you and it made you jump for a second

You whipped around and came face to face with your sister

“You okay?” Lucy asked softly

“Yeah... just got a little emotional here... remembered the last time we were here you know... before you left for Spain” you answered quietly

“Was a physical match... Tobin and Christen for United...” Lucy smiled and looked ahead towards the seats

“... Chloe got a stupid yellow... that wasn't a yellow... oh.. and G played left forward... wasn't it the first Derby for the Tower of Power too?” you chuckled

“Sammy Mewis? Yeah... I remember her coming out of the tunnel and nearly fell into it backwards because she didn't expect the fans to scream like they did... she tried to hide behind Rose for a hot minute there” your sister laughed lightly

“I love Rose but damn... she was shiny with the spotlights... told Gareth to put her in – she would have blinded Mearpsi with her reflective skin and bam... goal... but no” you rolled your eyes but smiled

“You always have these backhanded compliments... where do you get them from?” your sister laughed

“Lots and lots of training” you grinned “When are the spaniards arriving?”

“Already in Manchester... for a few hours now... you want to go and say hi to them?” Lucy smiled softly taking your hand

“You think Alexia would appreciate us crashing their Lunch?” you smirked

“Absolutely not... we're gonna wait in the Lobby until they're done and then quickly say hi” your sister laughed

“Yeah... why not? Where they're staying??” you shrugged your shoulders knowing Lucy tried to get you out of your sentimental state

“Hilton Garden Inn” Lucy said after checking her phone

“Ona?” you smirked

“Sí” your sister smiled back

“Wait... isn't that at the old cricket grounds?” you wrecked your brain

“Yes... it's nice apparently” Lucy shrugged not letting go of your hand

“Are we allowed to leave?” you suddenly asked looking around

“Sarina was the one calling me after seeing you out here... she said as long as were on time for the game we're good to go” your sister smiled softly

“Off to the spaniards then” you started running off pulling Lucy after your

“Remember Bubs... we don't cause troub... BUBS!!” Lucy yelled after you as you sprinted off towards the dining area

“I fucking knew it” your sister grumbled as she speed walked after you hearing you already flinging the heavy doors open

“Buenos Aires Motherfuckers!!!” you screamed as you pushed threw the big heavy double-door “I'm back!!”

There were different reactions to your entrance. Some of the spanish players screamed in horror, some nearly chocked on their food and some jumped up and took cover behind the tables

“A la mierda y/n!!!” Alexia exclaimed after she looked shocked over the edge of the table she cowered behind

“I said Buenos Aires... I made meself known” you smirked at the sight of the spanish national team in distress

“You storm inside her, interrupt our Lunch and scare us to DEATH for what exactly? And it's too late for Bon dia Cariño” Alexia now stood up glaring at you

“Lucy said we can go say hi so we did... and I didn't mean bon dias... I meant the other one... the Buenos Aires... your Olga said it” you shrugged your shoulders grinning

“Ay dios mio... my headache is suddenly back...” the blonde spaniard mumbled but in secret she was glad to see you “And it's Buenos tardes.... not Buenos Aires”

“Then that... Buenos tartlets motherfuckers” you said again grinning widely

“Nena!!!!” you suddenly hear from your left and found yourself laying on the ground a second later with someone on top of you

“María!!” you heard a voice from above you and the weight got pulled off you

“What just happened?” you asked confused as Ona helped you up

“Mapí wreckingballed you... she does that sometimes when she gets excited” your sisters girlfriend dusted you off a little bit before offering you a smile “You good?”

“Sí” you mumbled still a little bit confused

“Look at you speaking spanish” the short defender smiled warmly opening her arms inviting you in for a hug

“Putellas was adamant about it” you mumbled against Ona after you accepted her hug

“Okay Mapí...” you heard Alexia behind you “I told you what would happen if you misbehave again...”

“What she doing” you sack against Ona relaxing for a second

“Oh Mapí was a little over the top the whole camp... and since not even extra laps got her to calm down Alexia approaches the problem differently now” Ona answered smiling at how much you were leaning against her “What's up with you Bebita? You look exhausted”

“You guys are exhausting” you mumbled suddenly feeling extremly tired

“Us? We didn't do anything” the short blonde chuckled

“She means your games” you reconized your sisters voice behind you

“Disculpe?” Ona chuckled

“Again with the dislocation...” you mumbled as you get transferred into Lucys arms

“I'm NOT going to wear... Alexia... por favor” you heard Mapí beg “por favor la reina”

“Jenni... ayudame por favor” Alexia said holding Mapí police hold

“León... quédate quieto y acepta tu destino” you heard Jenni growl and immediately sink more into Lucy

“She's not angry with you... what's up with you anyway?” Lucy soothed you after she realize you shrink away from Jennis voice

“Tired” you mumbled

“She can sleep for a bit in my room” Ona offered

“Bubs... you wanna sleep with Ona?” your sister asked half quietly as suddenly four heads snapped in her directions and you were wide awake again

“Scuse me?” you chocked out

“NOT like that you...” your sister huffed out annoyed

“I mean I know you're not shy when it comes to our sex...” Ona started before you interrupted her

“LALALALALALALA!!!” you yelled loudly wrenching your fingers into your ears to blend out the rest of Onas sentence and screw your eyes shut walking away from your sister – and straight into Jenni Hermoso.

You stumbled back a little bit as you opened one eye seeing the tall dark haired spaniard smirking at you raising her eyebrow

“You were more smooth when you were high” Jenni smirked

“HUH??” you asked loudly your fingers still in your ear

Jenni rolled her eyes smiling grabbing your right hand pulling it away from your finger

“High you is smoother” she grinned

“Sober me has better taste” you shot back

“Sober you doesn't like me no?” Jenni teased you

“I can't answer that....” you swallowed hard

“So sober you DOES like me” the black haired said smirking

“Jenni stop teasing the Cariño” Alexia interrupted swatting her friends shoulder “She has a girlfriend”

“Interesting” Jenni smirked wriggling her eyebrows at you

“Indeed...” you coughed out before you laid eyes on Mapí and bursted out laughing “WHAT are you wearing??”

There she was – Mapí León in all her spanish glory... strapped in a Dino-Harness.

“This is all your fault” Mapí huffed

“Moi??” you asked confused

“Yes... YOU have one and that's why I have one now” María looked at you with betrayal in her eyes

“Then it's Lucys fault” you pointed at your sister “she's the one getting Bronzo in the first place!”

“Because you kept running off!!” Lucy defended herself “You still do”

“Why are you here?” Alexia asked your sister “You know it's not really common to visit the opponent before the game”

“She got a little emotional and I thought bringing her here would help – and it did... you guys don't even realize how much you help her” your sister said her voice low so you won't catch on while you were busy wrestling with Mapí around on the floor getting cheered on by Pina

“Ale... Puedes por favor controlarlos?” Aitana asked after you repeatedly kicked her chair trying to find leverage over Mapí both of you laughing

“Jenni... por favor” the blonde spaniard looked at her teammate who just sighed and walked towards you and Maps

“How was she the last two weeks?” Ona asked as she watched Jenni trying to split you two apart

“Rollercoaster.... she had a lot of fun with Less and Toons... and then she fell again and Keira had to drag her out of bed – it helped a lot that Sarina got her to agree to work for the Lionesses” your sister said keeping her voice low so just Ona and Alexia could hear her “And I may have played a part in her moody days” she confessed embarrassed

“What did you do?” Ona asked raising her eyebrow at Lucy

“I may – or may not – have threatened her girlfriend...” your sister scratched the back of her neck

“You WHAT??” Ona whisper yelled “I swear to god Lucia”

“We sorted it out... I just – I need to make sure she's protected okay” Lucy said “She's my baby sister”

“I get it... you know... Alba... the first partner she brought home – I made them run for the hills... threatened the shit out of them.. and had Jenni just stare at them from the other side of the room – for the whole night” Alexia chuckled

“But Albas first partner wasn't your exes best friend and technically your good mate too” Lucy mumbled

“No.. but I get why you're so... y/b Bronze... Ay dios – put that down!!!” Alexia started before she saw you holding a potato like you were a pitcher sizing up the distance between yourself and Olga Carmona.

Jenni was quick to react after she sat Mapí next to Irene who just fixed the younger spaniard with one glare

“No little one... we don't throw potatoes” the black haired spaniard said as she towered over you

“It's a boiled one?” you asked innocently

“No...” Jenni said smiling sweetly “... no throwing potatoes... boiled or not”

“You suck” you huffed annoyed

“And you wish” the dark haired one shot back smirking and you swallowed hard again – the second time in just under an hour

“Bubs... come on... we have to go” you heard Lucy from the other side of the room

You looked up from where you were hunched over the table with Mapí building some Lego figures

“Just five more minutes” you whined “We're nearly done”

“No Bubs.. now... we have to get ready – they have to get ready... come on... I told you we'll leave after an hour” your sister said firmly

“But” you started to whine again what caused some of they players to chuckle

“No... “ Lucy interrupted you “Get your Bag and come on”

“I...” you started confused “... don't have a bag with me?”

“Oh... right... sorry... I just had a flashback from all the times I had to pick you up from kindergarten” your sister said a little embarrassed

“I bet you were a cute pequeño” Alexia laughed pinching your cheeks

“She was a menace from Day 1... her birth was chaos... from the moment she entered this world it was chaos... no wait... she was chaos before that...” Lucy said as she watched you trying to fight Alexias hands off

“Am not” you grunted as the blonde spaniard continued to pinch your cheeks

“You were, are and always will be... which doesn't matter now because we need to leave” your sister answered

“Then tell her to stoooop” you whined

“Capi.... we need to leave” your sister grinned

“See you after the game Cariño” Alexia smirked and pressed a kiss to your forehead

“Can Mapí come too?” you looked at Alexia and Lucy hopefully

“Not now... you will see her later at the game and AFTER the game you can run around with her a little bit okay” Lucy tried to coax you away from Maps who clutched onto your hand

“Why not now?” you whined again

“Because Mapí needs to get ready for her game too... and we need to get ready at our hotel” your sister knew she had to stay calm otherwise you would just throw a big ass tantrum

“This sucks” you huffed but stood up

“Thank you Bubs... I promise you can play Lego later with Mapí” Lucy smiled as she put her arm over your shoulder leading you away from the spanish team

74.310. 74.310 fans – sold out Old Trafford. You were standing next to Sarina in the locker room and heard every single one of them. You knew Sarina gave you the freedom to do whatever you thought was right at this game and you knew the Team waited for the pre-game talk but all you could do was relishing that moment. Your eyes were closed, a small smile on your lips and you listened to the chants from above you. You took a deep breath before straightening up again.

“okay... I know this is just a friendly but I want all of you to treat it like it's the world cup final. Out there are 74.310 fans who are here for YOU... you had a good camp and we have a good play and we have the best team. Let all of them fans see that – let them enjoy that evening and make it an unforgettable experience for them. Let's paella the shit out of them tapas shovelling shrimp eater” you said loudly smirking at the end of your little speech

You send your team outside high-fiving every single one (except for Mearps because her high-fives hurt) before you took your place next to Sarina at the end of the Starting XI. You saw Alexia who was wearing the captains armband and winked at her when she turned around. She rolled her eyes for good measure before turning back and you saw the shift in her posture – she was in game mode. Who you couldn't spot in the line up was Mapí. You were confused for a second since you were 79% sure she would start as well. Sarina nudged your shoulder a lightly and brought your focus back to your own team.

“Sorry” you mumbled and hung your head

“It's okay Liefje... I know it can get overwhelming but I need your focus here right now – if it gets too bad let Keira or Lucy know okay... or Georgia” the blonde said softly as the line up started to move

“Nothing to be sorry about, Liefje... you are doing amazing – you are 16 and still a Ki...” Sarina said softly as you suddenly found yourself getting pushed forward onto the ground

“Hola mi nena” you heard from above you and all you could do was grunt

“Hi Maps... why??” you whined

“I just misseded you so much” the blonde spaniard said from above you

“Excuse me, León... could you please get off my analyst?” Sarina said a little confused

“Wait... I'll get it sorted...” you grunted from underneath Mapí “Lucy!! HELP!!”

Seconds later Lucy came sprinting back from the pitch tackling the spaniard off you both of them rolling in one big ball of limbs over the ground

“I told you not to do that León...” your sister growled after she pinned Mapí to the ground “Who's on the bench today?”

“Leila... Aitana... Athenea... Alba...” Mapí listed off

“So... the A-Team” you laughed which caused Sarina to smirk while Mapí didn't get it and just looked at you confused

“Because all of them start with an A” you tried to explain your “joke”

“That was a shit joke you muppet” Lucy rolled her eyes and pushed herself off Mapí

“At least I make jokes...” you snapped back as Sarina helped you back to your feet

“I get Aita to watch you León..” your sister pointed at the small spaniard who looked like a kicked puppy

“Por favor no... they'll put that stupid thing around me again” the blonde whined

“You have a T-Rex!!!! I have a bronto!!! Yours is so much cooler” you exclaimed

“Which reminds me... come here Bubs...” Lucy grinned

“You can't be serious!!!” you took a small step back

“Come here Bubs” your sister cooed “Bronzo time”

“Old Trafford is SOLD OUT!! And you want to strap me down??!!” you tried to hide behind Sarina “74.310 tickets SOLD!!!”

“Look... I don't need you running on the field trying to have a go at the ref – I also don't want to hold your hand the whole time because you probably would just pull you with me” Lucy said still smirking “So yes – I am gonna tie you to the bench and know you won't cause trouble... Keira is with me on that one”

“You all suck” you grumbled but let Lucy pull the straps expectantly over your arms locking them on the back

“I honestly didn't think you would give up that easily” your sister smiled once she attached the leash

“I want that Mapí has to wear hers too” you stayed rooted in your place crossing your arms over your chest

“I'll sort it out okay... but now you hop off to Kei...” Lucy ruffled through your hair handing the leash off to Sarina

“Come on Liefje” the dutch said lovingly tugging slightly on the offending string

On your way out Irene Paredes passed you with long powerful strides and you saw a harness clutched in her hand which made you grin. A minute later you heard Mapí exclaiming loudly in spanish and you even heard a few spanish swear words. It made you chuckle and got you into a better mood knowing you wasn't the only one the fans will make fun off.

“Hey Bitsy” Keira greeted you softly as you plumped down next to her

“I hate Lucy... I'm gonna put her in as a forward... or in goal” you mumbled

Keira bursted out laughing pulling you into her side pressing a kiss to your forehead – unknowns to you a lot of camera lenses were pointed towards you and that exactly that picture will go viral.

“Lucy in goal? I would pay to see that” Keira smiled knowing exactly why you were so grumpy.

“How much would you pay?” you suddenly perked up

“I would make sure you'll have some quality time with a certain blonde?” Keira smirked amused

“Deal” you quickly said pulling Keiras hand out of her pocket grabbing it quickly shaking it

“It's okay Bitsy... I would have done it anyway – you reacted so grown up with everything thrown at you this camp you deserve a little treat...” the blonde said softly

“I did, didn't I?” you smiled looking onto the pitch where Alexia and Leah stepped up to shake hands

“If I look over your pranks on LJ, Georgia, Leah, Beth and I'm pretty sure Alex wasn't a ginger this morning” Keira smirked

“They weren't pranks... that's love language...” you said embarrassed

“You call it love hiding LJ's clothes while she's in the shower so she has to wait in St. Georges Park until someone got some spare from the Hotel? Put itching power in her bed? Stealing all her left socks? Ordering pizza for the whole staff on her credit card? Not even to start with the laxative in her breakfast on the third day” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you

“Don't know what you're talking about, Kei...” you look at her innocently

“Course you don't Bitsy...” the blonde laughed “... but you should pay attention now – games is about to start”

You looked back over to the pitch seeing Spain won the coin toss and decided to play from left to right – which mean England had the kick off. You're eyes found the way to the spanish bench seeing Mapí being tied up to a post next to Irene as Lucy made her way over grinning widely as she took a seat behind you. Sarina sat on the outside of the row not seeing the point in interrupting right now since nothing had happened so far.

“You good Bubs?” Lucy asked from behind you

“Never been better” you grinned and Keira saw the glint in your eye

The game kicked off and you saw how Spain got thrown off a little bit already by your chosen formation and you smirked to yourself. Your plan worked perfectly – even if Hermoso and Paralluelo made it through the midfield they always ran into your defence brickwall. At one point Hannah even turned around to wave at fans and stood next to the goal for pictures. She was teasing the spanish players. Olga Carmona was lost since she couldn't mark Lucy – who sat behind you on the bench and Esme was not known enough to Carmona to place her playing style. Poor Olga wasn't having the best day.

It was in the 14th minute where Fran Kirby delivered a beautiful pass to Chloe who saw Beth running with her into an open space and directed the ball a forward where Beth just had to chip it into the back of the net. You jumped up just like everyone else screaming just as loud as the Lioness fans. Beth came running over to the bench signalling you to come up to the line and the second you did she pulled you into a hug – both of you staying on your side of the pitch

“This is yours pumpkin... this is your goal” Meado whispered into you hair and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before she sprinted off again going back into her position.

You looked up to the orange sky as the sun set trying to control the tears who threatened to spill out of your eyes. Sarina stepped up next you laying her arm around your shoulders just offering silent support knowing how much this meant to you. Suddenly you felt Keiras hand on your other shoulder, Lucys hands on your waist and Georgias hand sneaking into yours. Weeks later it would be that exact same picture that would be seen as Lucys lock screen at a Barca video.

Spain kicked off again and you smirked seeing how they started to lose their temper already. Alexia tried to keep her players level headed but especially the younger ones like Salma tried the “head through the wall”-technique all the time. Again and again she'll run into the wall even if there where three players running with her one of them in a perfect position to at least get a shot at goal. But you expected something like that but to your surprise it happened faster than you thought. In minute 35 Millie rocket the ball way into the spanish half for Clinton to pick it up getting it to J-Park who put it into the box for Fran who just volleyed past Cata. Sarina pulled you immediately into a big hug and even Fran pointed over to you which got noticed by Alexia who realized that it was your doing that her team was struggling.

It made her so angry and proud at the same time. She saw how her team was slowly falling apart and she couldn't do NOTHING about it because of you. You placed your players perfectly and the formation you chose was just impossible to break – even if they got past your midfield your defence stood like... yes like a brickwall. Alexia saw her team getting frustrated. She needed to do something but she couldn't think of a solution. When Fran Kirby scored the second goal for england and pointed over to you it just made her blood boil. She loved you. She would give her life for you. But right now she wanted to strangle you – publicly. VERY publicly. Jenni came over to her best friend

“What are we gonna do, Capi?” the dark haired asked

“I... I don't know... this is y/n going” the blonde seethed back “I don't know what to do – I don't know how she's thinking”

“Trust your stomach Capi... but it doesn't help the team if you freak out” Jenni said softly squeezing Alexias biceps

“Let us get through the first half... and try scoring... isn't that what you get paid for?” Alexia smiled at her best friend

“Feed me good balls and I'll score” the dark haired one smirked before turning around jogging back into her position

“Oh so it's my fault” Alexia yelled after Jenni smiling

Just three minutes Leah passed the ball to Lotto who took off like a lightning surprising the spanish players once again. She passed Alexia like Speedy Gonzales which caused the spanish capitan to needed a second to realize what happened before sprinting after Lotte yelling spanish commands to her defence. Lotte saw Chloe wide open at the far post, Cata off her line so Lotte did what everyone would do – she pulled her leg back and bolted through the ball. Cata did exactly what Lotte wanted – she came even further off her line. Lotte kicked the a perfect curve ball to Chloe who headed into the back of the net. 3 – 0. The Lionesses were destroying the spanish National team. When you saw Lottes curve ball you already were out your seat – with Keira holding on to your leash tightly – screaming loudly. Chloe came running over to you as well and you did your special city-handshake. You saw Alexia hanging her head low and you felt sorry for her. You could see that the blonde felt guilty for letting Lotte past so easily.

In the 43rd minute even Ona lost her plot committing a foul against Jess Parker which should have been a yellow card – at least in your opinion. You jumped out of your seat starting to yell at the ref from the side-line

“Oy ref.... that's a yellow!!!!” you yelled angrily

“Calm down Bitsy” Keira said softly trying to pull you back on your leash but you were so in your zone you didn't even notice her

“Oy... OY ref you blind moron!!!” you yelled again and this time you got the refs attention as she looked over to you as you grabbed Sarinas glasses of her nose “You need some glasses so you can actually SEE a foul when it's happening??”

Lucy tried to do damage control by putting her hand over your mouth pulling you backwards while you heard Mapí scream from the spanish bench.

“You tell her nena!!! That's my nena!!!” the small spaniard cheered you on not even caring that the foul was committed by her team resulting in a free kick for the Lionesses.

But it was already to late as the ref already was walking over to you. You sized her up standing a little taller on your toes as she already pulled a yellow card from her chest pocket holding it up over your head.

“This is an official warning” she said to you as you continued to glare at her not able to talk back as Lucy still had her hand over your mouth

“Sorry ref... it's her first game and she's a little emotional” Sarina tried to calm the situation signalling your sister to get you back to the bench who immediately understood and janked you backwards so you lost your balance and she had an easier job getting you away.

Meado and Leah stepped up to the free kick both looking over at you for instruction on who should take the free kick. You held up five fingers and signed for top left. You made sure that all the players knew your signs beforehand so Leah nodded barely noticeable winking at you. She quickly talked to Beth who quickly looked over to you smirking. As the whistle blew Meado started to run up to the ball but running over it while Leah came a step behind her kicking the ball in the top left corner making it 4 – 0 for England. This time you just smirked nodding satisfied. Leah came over to you smirking as well as she stood opposite to you and both of you taking a bow at the same time. Every goal the Lionesses scored today they'll dedicate to you – it was Sarinas wish and the team immediately agreed. This was your doing. This was YOUR game.

The first half ended with a defeated spanish team and a happy english team. The players tickling into the locker room in the best mood chatting happily until you climbed up on a bench whistleing loudly

“Okay guys that was more than perfect – Lotte... great game so far really... you're a perfect false 6... Hillary... you were outstanding for your first game... really great job... great passes, quick thinking, great overview.... really REALLY good job out there... the rest of you was amazing too... honestly you all play phenomenal... we still do the halftime changes and we go a little easy on Spain and go back to 3-3-4” you said before you stepped down again letting Leah take over leaving the locker room.

Outside Sarina waited for you smiling

“You always have to cause trouble, don't you Liefje?” the dutch smiled “A yellow – I can't believe it”

“Not my fault that ref is blind as a mole” you grumbled but a smile tugged on your lips “I'm gonna get that yellow after the game and gift it to Ona... it's hers anyway”

Sarina laughed loudly pulling you back towards the pitch as you looked at her

“Mama Rina... I have another sub if you're okay with it” you smiled

“You can do whatever you want today Liefje” Sarina smiled back

“Perfect” you smiled happily as you felt a hand smacking your ass making you jump and turn to your right seeing your girlfriend jogging past laughing “I'll get you for that Stanway!” you yelled after her

“All empty promises” Georgia laughed as she jogged out of the tunnel

The second half began as the first one ended with England dominating the game being fired up from the comfortable lead and the nervousness from Spain. Spain subbed some players too at halftime one of them being Mapí León who stopped at your height when she entered the pitch

“Nena... I love you... but now I have to do my job okay... I can't let you score again” the spaniard said a little sadly

“Oh don't worry... I know colorbook spaniard... we'll still score at least one more” you grinned at her which made her grin back at you before jogging on

At the 72nd minute you made two more subs just like you cleared with Sarina. LJ came on for Chloe who started to get tired anyway and Less replaced Meado who just came back from an injury. Georgia did a good job in midfield together with Toons and soon Cata got basically bombarded with shots on her goal while the english defence got a breather. Against all odds it was actually Georgia who scored the 5 – 0 after Less pelted the ball against the crossbar and the ball landed at Gs feet who just took her chance and just... scored. Your girlfriend couldn't believe it herself as Less and Toons jumped on top of her screaming loudly. As soon as Georgia got rid of the two stooges she ran over to the side-line stopping right in front of you

“I can't do what I want to do right now but I promise I do it when we win the world cup for you” your girlfriend said softly and you smiled at her

“I'll hold you to it Stanway” you smiled back as she mocked a salute before running off

It was the 84th minute when you made your final sub. You did send Lucy to warm up who just smirked

“You just can't get around letting me sitting on the bench can't you” your sister teased and you smirked back

“Something like that” you answered

You went up to the fourth official to tell her that you had one last sub. She took out her notebook writing down the numbers who get subbed and looked at you confused

“Are you sure? No. 2 comes on for No.13?” the fourth official looked at you

“Yes I'm sure” you smirked widely

“13 is your Goalkeeper” the woman specified

“Yes I know...” you shrugged your shoulders smiling before getting back to your bench “Luce... get ready – coming on the next chance”

“Sure... any orders?” your sister said as she tied her laces again

“Just... keep a clean sheet okay” you smirked

“What?” Lucy asked confused but you ushered her out to the side-line.

The board went up and it showed the green no.2 – which caused a lot of cheering by the fans – and a the red no. 13. THAT on the other hand caused a LOT of confusion. Hannah looked over at you for clearance and you nodded grinning while Keira was howling in laughter

“Are you serious?” Sarina looked at you shocked

“Yes... I am dead serious... Lucy wanted to play... she gets to play” you grinned as you watched Hannah jogging over already pulling her gloves of her hands pushing them against Lucys chest who turned around to you shocked

“What the hell..” your sister started

“Get going Bronze... and keep that clean sheet... Hannah did amazing out there and there's only a few minutes left... trust the process and trust your defence” you said as you gave your sister a push so she would step on the pitch.

The game ended with a glorious win for England. The team celebrated on the pitch and with the fans. But not you. You stood at the side-line and kept your eyes fixed on your girlfriend and the raven haired spaniard who stood very VERY close to her – too close for your liking.

“What's wrong Bitsy?” Keira appeared next to you wrapped in her warm fluffy team jacket her warm breath coming out puffy in the cold english air.

“Nothing” you mumbled distracted growling lowly when the spaniard laid her hand on the lower arm of your girlfriend

Keira followed your eyes until she found the scene of your obvious bad mood. When the blonde realized what was happening she bursted out laughing

“Don't laugh... who is that?” you grumbled annoyed still rooted in your place

“That's Nuria... Nuria Rábano... left back... plays for Wolfsburg in Germany and obviously Spain” Keira chuckled watching as the dark haired woman laughed at something G said her head thrown back

“She's touching what's mine” you growled seeing how the spaniard grabbed your girlfriends arm tighter

“They played each other just before camp... and she's spanish” the blonde answered still very amused about the whole situation

“People could get a wrong picture of it” your mood didn't really improve with all the information Keira provided

“You know what they say... Are they dating or are they spanish?” Keira found great entertainment in poking at your ego a little bit

“I don't like it” you grumbled

“Green isn't really your colour Bitsy” Keira smirked at the your displayed jealousy as you started to walk into your girlfriends direction rather aggressive

“Green is the perfect colour for me... makes my eyes pop” you yelled back growling already halfway there.

Keira just laughed at your antics turning walking around over to Beth and Leah starting her fan round

“This is amazing... putting five past Coll just feels amazing” Ella screamed so you could hear her over the noise of the fans

“Told you it'll work... just trust me” you yelled back laughing “I don't know what her obsession is with Luce but damn... thank you Carmona”

“She looks pissed” Less laughed next to you as you got sandwiched between her and Ella

“I mean... not my fault” you grinned as you three went across the pitch shaking hands with the spanish players.

You stopped shortly at Aitana for both of you to awkwardly shake hands and then quickly walking away again

“What was that??” Lessi laughed in your face

“We... yeah” you shrugged lost

“I mean that's full on Tooney behaviour” the blonde laughed

“Oi” Ella exclaimed loudly “I wasn't THAT bad”

“True... you were worse” you bursted out laughing “If it wasn't for Luce you'd never have gotten that picture... isn't it your lock screen?”

“Shut up the both of ya” Tooney grumbled

“Hola Cariño” you suddenly hear behind you

You turned around smirking turning Less and Tooney (who totally didn't squeal as she reconized Alexia) with you.

“Hola pretty spaniard” you grinned and Alexia laughed out loud

“Good game” the blonde spaniard smirked at you “Good tactics”

“I'll let the staff know” you smirked enjoying that little banter between the two of you

“Whoever came up with that deserves a raise – no one noticed a weak link in our play before.. or threw us off of our game like this ever before” Alexia grinned knowing fully well it was you

“I'll tell the head coach... yeah... we have a new member of staff... she's good...” you wriggled your eyebrows

“I noticed... but is she good enough to come up with more solutions since she just spilled her little... plan” spains capitana smirked right back at you

“She'll have some surprise ready for you the next time we face each other” you smirked “Alexia... Lessi Russo... Ella Toone” you now introduced your best friends “Me best mates”

“Alessia” Lessi corrected you pronouncing the “A” extra loud

You rolled your eyes for good measure and shoved her away

“You do know I know them right? Last year? Final” Alexia laughed

“No... you know the football players Alessia Russo and Ella Toone” you basically screamed the Alessia “But this two are my best friends...” you smiled

“Less.. Toons.. Alexia “Don't touch that” Putellas... two times Ballon d'Or...” you started before getting big eyes as you frantically looked for Mapí

“... Winner, Cariño... I won that trophy twice...” Alexia laughed as you stopped mid-sentence

“Yeah... sure... winner... twice” you said as realized that she had no idea that there was in fact just ONE whole Ballon d'Or... and one broken one

“You sure are something Cariño” the blonde spaniard smiled as she hugged you

“Ew... go away... you're all sweaty” you faked disgust trying to push her off “AND you wear the wrong jersey...”

“I'm very sorry” Alexia said “apologetic” and hugged you even tighter “You want my jersey?”

“Nope” you snorted “But Lessi over here is a BIG fan”

“You want to swap?” the spaniard smiled at your friend who – in true Less fashion nodded frantically and tried to get her jersey over her head just to get stuck in it

You knew the second you saw her tugging on it the second time that there definitely will be a clip of it – and it definitely will go viral.

With the help of Toons and you you managed to get her out of her jersey which she embarrassed offered to a smirking Alexia

“Come on Stooches” you heard Lucy yell from the place she stood with Ona (and Mario for cover) “Time for huddle”

“But I didn't see Mapí” you whined back

“And it will stay that way” Alexia quickly said firmly

“We're on english soil... you can't tell me what to do in me home” you whined

“Lucia?!” Alexia didn't even bother to give in to your whine “you're hermanita wants to spend time with María”

“Absolutely not” Keira yelled from your other side where she was talking to Irene and Patri

“Tweedledumb” you yelled happily skipping over to the trio leaving Lessi and Toons awkwardly standing next to Alexia

“I was tweedledee” Patri said confused

“No... I'm pretty sure you were tweedledumb” you mused

“Bitsy... don't you have someone else to annoy” Keira pressed a soft kiss to your temple

“I would... but pretty spaniard won't let me go to colorbook spaniard” you whined

“Wrong.. I... won't leave you go to Mapí...” Keira laughed

“But whyyyyy” you whined again

“Really?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you

“Ugh...” you huffed before you suddenly perked up

“What have you seen now?” Keira immediately felt the change in your body language

“Not what... who” you smirked “Hola sexy spaniard”

“Hola little One... you behaving?” Jenni grinned at you as she came over

“Never... good game Hermosa”

All the players around you stopped talking looking at you confused as Jenni began smirking.

“What?” you asked looking around

“Did... did you just call me beautiful?” the black haired woman smirked as Alexia began to laugh trying to hide it behind her hand

“WHAT??? NO!!!” you screeched horrified as you saw G looking at you suspicious

“You did Cariño... Hermosa means beautiful in spanish” Alexia laughed

“Dear bloody fucking...” you started getting interrupted by Lucy

“Push ups!!”

“CHRIST... Ona said the female version of things is A at the end... the male mostly O... as far as I can tell she has breast and no dick!!!” you enthral loudly

“y/n Bronze... watch your mouth... we're in public” Keira said sternly giving you a death glare

“Sorry” you said ashamed “But... she laughed” you pointed at Alexia

“Because you got it wrong” Keira rolled her eyes “and it wasn't a bad mistake... just a mistake.. get over it... and now come on... Sarina is waiting”

You huffed but let Keira pull you along. You watched as the spanish player went over to their head coach Jorge Vilda (or as you called him Vileda – because he's a mop and nothing more) and their president Rubiales. They were laughing with each other when you saw out of the corner of your eye how Rubiales grabbed Jennis head with both hands and how she moved backwards a little bit. It happened so quickly that if someone (Lucy and Keira... and Sarina) asked you afterwards you couldn't even answer why you did what you did.

You saw how his head moved closer to hers and how she slightly leaned backwards. You pushed yourself away from Keira who looked after you confused before yelling out to Lucy (who was in conversation with Meado). You quickly covered the distance between you and the spanish team shoving bodies to the side until you were standing behind Jenni when you saw that he actually DID press his lips to hers. You yanked her around and away from Rubiales as you already had your balled fist lifted behind your head. You knew you had one go and only one. So you made good use of it putting all your anger into that punch. You felt your fist connect with his face (more specifically his nose) and a gush of red liquid landed on your white Lioness jersey.

It just took seconds but these seconds went past like they were hours. You saw how first Rubiales looked at you confuse. Then shocked and when your fist connected with his face how his whole face flew to the side and he tumbled backwards his hands flying to his nose. There was a deadly silence in the stadium – 74.310 fans were silent.

The next second you felt hands on your shoulders and around your torso as several people started to get in between you and Rubiales. Lucy, Keira, Ona, Alexia, Mary, Leah, Mario – all of them and some more getting in between the two of you. Lucy had her arms around your torso pulling you backwards while the spanish girls trying to get you away before Luis recovered.

Lucy (with the help of Keira and Mary) got your growling fuming form into the tunnel and then the locker-room. Sarina wasn't far behind

“All of you leave” the dutch ordered strictly

Quickly the three players got out of the room knowing not to start an argument with Sarina right now

“Are you actually completely mad?” the blonde dutch said upset “Do you even realize what you've done out there??”

“I...” you looked at her and she saw that you actually DIDN'T know what you did “no... I don't know... I saw how he grabbed her head and then... I don't know”

“You hit him” Sarina said slowly trying to see if you played her

“Did I get him good? He's an arrogant pig” you asked

Sarina just pointed at your jersey waiting for your reaction

“Wow... shit... is this his blood?” you looked up after discovering the splash of red on the white fabric

“Yes... y/n... I need the truth... do you REALLY not remember?” Sarina looked you straight in the eye and you held the eye contact

“I swear Mama Rina... I remember seeing him grabbing her head and then you yelling at me – I swear” you said honestly

“Okay...” the blonde sighed out “... we need to do damage control... you NEED to apologize to the spanish federation”

“WHAT? No... he IS a pig...” you exclaimed

“Liefje... you don't have to mean it... just sell it... because if you don't the FIFA has a reason to ban you from the World cup...” Sarina pressed

“And he just can do whatever he wants and gets away with it?” you said upset

“The only one who can press charges right now is Hermoso... not the spanish team or you.. this part of the problem doesn't concern you... but you need to openly apologise... and you need to sell it” the dutch said firmly trying to get through to you

“Okay...” you huffed “I don't like it... but I'll do it for you”

“Thank you Liefje... and please... after you apologized... don't throw an “asshole” in there” Sarina smiled

“Damn it” you cursed

“Yeah... I do know you” the blonde laughed

The two of you exit the locker-room and to no surprise your sister and Keira were still waiting outside

“ARE YOU ACTUALLY..” Lucy started before she gets interrupted by Sarina

“Stop it... we already talked about it and she will apologise” the dutch said sternly

Your sister huffed but after a second smiled

“Nice right hook... made me proud” Lucy grinned ruffling your hair

“Thanks... Jorge taught me” you grinned back as you passed the spanish locker-room

“Wait” you said quickly before you knocked at the door

You waited a few seconds before Misa Rodríguez opened the door looking at you carefully

“Sí?” she asked raising an eyebrow

“Okay look... I neither have the time nor the patience to even try to get you to understand me three words of spaniard so I'm gonna do it me way” you huffed out before yelling into the room “HERMOSO!!!”

Seconds later Jenni pushed Misa slightly to the side standing now in the doorway

“Yes?” the dark haired woman asked and you could see that she was still somewhat upset.

“Here” you said as you pulled the Jersey with Rubiales blood on it over your head “It's yours... you deserve it... whenever you question if people will have your back – it was me honour to have your back at this moment... end him Hermoso...” you said intensely before turning around leaving

“Wait” Jenni quickly grabbed your wrist “Thank you” she smiled slightly

“Let him bleed Jenni... he doesn't deserve your mercy” you said firmly “What he did was wrong... and he should carry the consequences”

“Here” this time Jenni pulled her jersey over her head “It's sweaty but I think it's just fair that you get the jersey from the person who got you in trouble”

“Meeh... I always get meself into trouble... but I'll wear it when I apologise to Rubiales... so that he knows that I'll stick to your side” you winked

“You're going to apologise??” Jenni asked shocked

“Have to... Sarina said I don't have to mean it... I just have to sell it... otherwise FIFA can ban me from being part of the team” you grinned

“Thank you y/n Bronze... I owe you” Jenni smiled again

“Yeah about that... I would love to win next year... could you maybe... hold back a little” you grinned and Jenni bursted out laughing

“You can keep dreaming because that won't happen” the dark haired woman laughed.

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze #woso image #barca femeni #mapi leon x reader #ona batlle x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #lionesses x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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najia-cooks · 5 months

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[ID: One puffy circle of bread, and three which have been halved to show an internal pocket, on a striped blue and white kitchen towel. End ID]

خبز الكماج / Khubiz al-kmaj (Palestinian flatbread)

Khubiz al-kmaj is a thin flatbread with an internal pocket. It is commonly eaten with breakfast to scoop up dips such as hummus, used to eat stews, served alongside main dishes, and used to make sandwiches and to wrap falafel. "خُبْز," pronounced "khubz" or (in Levantine varieties of Arabic) "khubiz," comes from the root خ ب ز (kh-b-z), which also produces the word "خَبَزَ" "khabaza" (Levantine: "خَبَز" "khabaz"), "to bake."‎

This bread is eaten across the Levant and in Greece, with slight differences in terminology and style. It is variously called "خُبْز العَرَبِيّ" (khubz al-'arabiyy; Arabian bread), "خُبْز "البَلَدِيّ (khubz al-baladiyy; bread from my country), or (occasionally) "خُبْز البيتة" or "البيتا" (khubz al-bita), a borrowing from "pita." ("Pita" itself is perhaps from Greek "πίτα" "pita," or the modern Hebrew "פיתה.") The bread is referred to as "khubiz al-kmaj" in Palestine, from the Turkic "kömeç" / كُمَجْ‎ ("bread baked in ashes"). The collective term for the bread in general is كماج (kmāj); each individual piece of bread is referred to with the singulative "كماجة‎" (kmāja).

Today, kmaj is frequently made with white flour; some people add olive oil or milk powder to ensure a very soft dough. Leila el-Haddad writes that a more traditional method omits milk and uses whole white spring wheat, a whiteish wheat grain harvested in late spring and ground without removing the bran.

Since the late 20th century, many Palestinian households have used an electric cooker (طنجرة الكهرباء; ṭanjara al-kahrabā') to cook kmaj, placing one kmaja inside of the chamber and one on top and allowing both to bake at the same time. These aluminum and tin cookers, which were invented in Gaza and became popular there during the first intifada in the late 1980s, are designed to route electricity through a metal pipe or spiral wire on the underside of their lids, heating both the top and the inside of the cooker simultaneously.

The cookers' popularity can be attributed in part to a curfew that Israel imposed on Gazan refugee camps during the intifada, supposedly in an attempt to restrict the movements of resistance fighters. Refugees in the Jabalia camp in the north, for example, unable to afford home stoves, and without the necessary outdoor space to make familial clay ovens, would have to wait in line for hours every day to get bread from shared ovens, risking curfew violations; household electric cookers were far more convenient. The success of local industry and innovation in the form of Gazan-manufactured technology was also symbolically and strategically important during the first intifada, in which Palestinians employed strikes and boycotts (largely organized by women) of Israeli companies and goods as a strategy of resistance to occupation.

An electric cooker is still today considered a very important tool, as it spares families the need to purchase kmaj (the price of which was soaring compared to the cost of flour in the 2010s, and which was often of inferior quality compared to what could be made at home). They are frequently given as wedding or housewarming presents. Lack of access to electricity, though, imposes a limiting condition on the usage of these cookers, as Israel has for over a decade strangled the flow of power to Gaza: Abier Almasri wrote in 2017 that tasks such as cooking and laundry had to be rushed during the four or so hours a day when electricity was available. In this environment, electric cookers are useful in that they can prepare a lot of bread in a short period of time. Fathia Radwan said in 2022 that she would wake up early, after the nightly power outage, to prepare more than 100 loaves of bread at a time for her family of nine.

Today, the taxes that Israel levies on imports of raw materials into Gaza makes the cost of new electric cookers, which sometimes exceeds 120 shekels (37 USD), too expensive for some families to afford. The difficulty and expense of importing materials, and the impossibility of exporting goods to foreign markets with the advent of the 2007 siege, also limit the number of factories in Gaza that are able to manufacture these cooking pots. The aluminum industry, introduced to Gaza in the 1960s and once the basis of a manufacturing and economic renaissance in the region, deteriorated as a result of the siege, as factories were no longer able to export goods to the West Bank and were newly reliant on imports of raw materials from Egypt. Even parts to repair electric cookers are expensive, due to a tax levied on items judged by Israel to have a "dual," i.e. a possible civilian and military, use.

Still, repairman Iyad Faraj estimates that over half the homes in Gaza have and use an electric cooker, as maintaining, repairing, and operating one is cheaper than having a gas pipe installed (at 68 shekels, 20 USD) and purchasing gas. Electric pots thus stand in many homes as both a utilitarian item, and a symbol of Palestinian ingenuity and resistance to Israel's attempts at impoverishment and starvation.

Support Palestinian resistance by contributing to Palestine Action’s bail fund or to Palestine Legal’s defence fund, by attending court or making a sign to support the Elbit Eight, or by buying an e-sim for distribution in Gaza.

Ingredients:

500g (4 cups + 3 Tbsp) white whole wheat (spring) flour

1/2 Tbsp (5g) active dry yeast

1/2 Tbsp (6.25g) vegetarian granulated sugar

1/2 Tbsp (7.25g) kosher salt

About 2 1/4 cups (530mL) room-temperature water, divided

Olive oil

White whole wheat flour is flour that has a white color once ground, despite the fact that it includes both the bran and the germ of the wheatberry. It is milled from white spring wheat (so named because it is harvested in late spring).

You may instead mix white all-purpose flour and brown whole wheat flour in your desired proportion. Keep in mind that whole wheat flour will need more water and more kneading than white flour. If you’re using all white flour, you will need about 1 1/4 cup (300mL) water.

Instructions:

1. Mix flour, yeast, sugar, and salt in a large mixing bowl. Add water gradually until dry ingredients come together into a sticky dough.

2. Knead the dough on the countertop or in a wide, shallow bowl until smooth, about 5 minutes. (If using whole wheat or white whole wheat flour) continue incorporating water into the dough as you knead to maintain a tacky texture.

3. Fold the dough into a ball and return to the bowl, seam-side down. Pat the top of the dough with some olive oil, cover the bowl, and let rise for an hour.

4. Pinch the dough into about 8 balls of equal size (about 110g each). Cover and let rest for 10 minutes.

5. On a lightly floured surface, roll out each ball of dough into a circle about 1/4" (1/2cm) in thickness. Set dough circles on a surface prepared with parchment paper and cover closely with a kitchen towel or plastic wrap. Let rest and ferment for at least 1 and up to 10 hours.

An overnight rest is traditional in Palestine and will create a more complex flavor in the bread (see note below).

6. Remove each circle of dough from its resting place with a metal spatula and roll it out to a 1/4” thickness again. Preheat a baking stone or sheet in the top third of an oven at 500 °F (260 °C), and then cook breads in the oven for three minutes, until large bubbles have begun to form.

7. Flip bread over and cook for another 3 minutes on the other side, until golden brown and puffed up completely.

8. Wrap breads in a kitchen towel or tea towel and allow to steam for a few minutes while the others cook.

Notes

The climate where I live is dry enough that I have discovered a risk of my breads becoming crackers if I leave them out overnight. The dried-out flatbread does puff up in the oven, but the resulting product is not as nice and fluffy as it should be.

Through experimentation, I have found the best method of both preventing drying out and guaranteeing that the flatbreads will puff up during cooking the next day is:

1. Roll out the dough and place dough circles on a lightly oiled surface. Cover them closely with lightly oiled plastic wrap.

2. The next day, fold dough circles back into balls. Place seam-side down and roll out again on a lightly floured surface.

3. Bake as described above.

If you live in a humid environment, the first instructions given in the recipe above should work for you.

#Palestinian #bread #khubz #baking #breadmaking #long post /

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modelbus · 1 month

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Anyone else have a newfound love for this song and an addiction to task force 141? No? Just me?

To my mcyt readers: …I can’t explain. Just know that is ✨ different ✨ from my usual. (Quite Suggestive) To the COD readers I've attracted: I haven't played the games and reality is what I decide to make it (feel free to send asks educating me or info dumping <3)

Pairing: John Price x Gn!Reader

Too sweet

Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

”Morning Captain.” The words are practically a ritual, although you know he won’t respond. He never does this early in the morning.

There were a lot of unwritten rules in 141. When you first joined, you fucked them all up. Continuously. More often than not, it was Soap who laughed at you while Price patiently explained why you can’t joke about Ghost being afraid of snakes.

This rule, though, only took you a few days to catch onto. The “don’t talk about the sleepless nights” rule. Everyone knew why that rule existed; you’d seen enough combat to not be that naive. You’d been there enough to wake up before the sunrise, to watch the sky bleed orange.

And that’s exactly why you don’t ask Price about the circles under his eyes. If he’s not up doing paperwork, he’s up for other reasons. You don’t pity him; being Captain isn’t something you could ever do.

“Had a dream that Gaz found a goat and convinced you to make it the base pet.” You continue. His lips quirk up, gaze turning amused, so you soldier on. “Then it ate Ghost’s clothes, so he kicked it out of the base and Gaz quit the task force over it. And Soap claimed he could speak to it, but I called bullshit on him and he disappeared.”

”Disappeared to where?”

“Hell, maybe? That’s where he fucking belongs.” You smile at him, and his eye roll—you pretend it’s fond—seems like a victory of its own.

You’re too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

“No.”

The finality of his word rings clear, but you persist. You were never too good at stopping before you crossed that line, never too good at giving up while you were ahead. Things, more often than not, ended up right as rain.

“Price—“ You try.

“You’re too young, and it’s wrong.” Never before have you seen a man so tortured. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted you, it was a question if he would let himself want you. And you both knew it. “I won’t take your innocence from you.”

You scoff, following him down the hall and out of the briefing room. So much for staying after to help him gather papers.

“I’m a soldier, hardly innocent!”

“Compared to me, you are!” He turns, and you automatically look up to his eyes. As you said before: tortured. “I’m harsh, and we both know it. You deserve to be with someone soft, someone who can be sweet with you.”

“I don’t want to be.”

From the second you laid eyes on John Price, you knew you’d never want to be. It wasn’t his age, although you never minded an older man. It was his passion, his care, his leadership and skills and everything else about him. He was magnetic, drawing you in despite everything.

And you weren’t blind to the way his gaze always met yours in a room, either.

Price sighs heavily. “Go to bed, soldier.”

Tactful retreat it is, then. “Good night, Price.” You murmur, turning away.

A pause, then another sigh. This one is lighter. “Good night.”

I work late where I’m free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

Knocking twice, you don’t wait for Price to respond before entering his office. His light was on, shining out a signal to anyone in the hallway that he was awake.

”You’re about to owe me.” You announce, ignoring his groan.

“I was working.”

“And now you’re going to eat dinner. I had to smuggle these from the dining hall, you know.” You drop the napkin bundle you had made on his desk, opening it to reveal the food. His and yours.

“I was going to get food later.”

“Liar.” You sit in the chair across from his desk, grabbing a bread roll. “No drinks, because even I can’t smuggle that out.”

“I could get you in trouble for this.” He points out.

“But you won’t. I’m your favorite.”

Price reaches forward, taking his bread roll. Mimicking you, although he never puts his pen down. The paperwork spread out in front of him is just like every other night you’ve brought him food.

“Who says you’re my favorite? Maybe it’s Ghost.” Price smiles, and you beam back at him.

“Don’t insult me like that. I’m proud of my title as your favorite. I mean, I am the only one that you let lounge in your office.”

“Tenuously.”

“Still.”

His attention turns back to filling out his paperwork, leaving you to sit there. Per usual. You stay until all the food is gone, leaving him with only crumbs on his desk to show for it.

Sweeping the napkin and crumbs into his desk, you pause by the doorframe. His hat obscures his face, but you know he’s aware that you’re still there.

“Get some sleep sometime tonight, yeah?” You hedge.

“I should be the one telling you that.”

“Someone gotta look after you, Price. Besides, I’m not the one who doesn’t go to bed before daylight.”

Knocking at the door to signal your exit, you head out.

You treat your mouth as if it’s heavens gate The rest of you like you’re the TSA

"Never have I ever... been a virgin." Soap says, raising his beer.

"That's not how it fucking works." You argue. "You were a virgin at some point, obviously."

"You know wha' I mean."

"Just pick something else." Ghost butts in gruffly.

This is why you prefer not to play drinking games with the task force. Soap always ends up fucking them up first, and then it manages to devolve into chaos. For an elite spec ops team, 141 sure did struggle at these games.

"Fine." Soap groans, taking a drink of his beer while he thinks.

"In the meantime, I'll go-" Gaz starts, but immediately gets cut off.

"Never have I ever been a virgin right now."

You stare at Soap. He stares back. "I'm going to beat your ass for targeting during training tomorrow." You threaten him, taking a sip of your wine. You're the only one drinking wine here, but you prefer the taste of it over beer or whatever the others are drinking.

As you tilt your glass back, your eyes lock with Price's. You're reclined on the floor with Soap while he's in a chair, giving you the perfect line of sight on each other. He watches with dark eyes as you swallow, tracing your figure with a gaze so heavy that it makes you shiver.

In his hand, his whiskey remains untouched.

"You just need to get laid and then you won't be such an easy target." Soap is saying, oblivious to the tension simmering between you and Price.

"Unlike you dumbasses, I'm don't want to sleep with the first moving thing I see." You don't look away from Price pointedly. "I prefer to wait for the right person."

Ghost makes a disinterested noise from the chair next to Price, making you flick your gaze to him. He inclines his head slightly, well-aware of the thing between you and Price, but doesn't say a word. Thank fuck for Ghost.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Don't set the room on fire while I'm gone. Soap."

"God, I didn't do anything yet!"

"Yet."

"I'll go too." Price says lowly, his footsteps tailing yours. It's not until you're in the hallway and out of earshot from the others that he speaks to you. "You're a tease, doll."

"I'm aware." You turn to grin at him, but startle at his proximity. He steps forward and you take a matching one back, your back hitting the hallway wall.

"In front of everyone, too." He murmurs, boxing you in. Your heartbeat pounds loudly in your ears, but not from fear. You know what fear feels like, and it certainly isn't the warmth pooling in your gut. "Begging for it."

"You know I have been."

His head dips, and just for a moment the bitter taste of whiskey invades your tastebuds. Your eyes flutter shut as his tongue swipes across yours, and when you open them he's gone.

Point, you.

As soft as the rain Pretty as a vine As sweet as a grape

John Price was everywhere.

His hands on your hips, his bookshelf pressing against your back, his mouth on yours. Every inch of him invaded every inch of you, and you loved it.

As it turns out, all you had to do was get shot in the field. A graze made well worth it by this reaction.

“Don’t you ever pull that shit again.” Price says into your mouth, hands tight on your skin like you’ll disappear. You’d worry that they’d leave bruises, but you already know your love looking at the reminder of him.

“Or what?” You taunt when he pulls back for air.

“Or I’ll tie you to my fucking bed.”

The threat lights your blood on fire in a way it’s never done before. Want, roaring strong, sears through you.

“Truly a terrifying prospect, the guy I’ve been waiting to ask me out finally taking me to his bed—“

He smothers your laughter with his lips and tongue, hand coming up behind your head to protect it from the shelves. You tug at his hair, earned yourself a low addicting sound. Yeah, you need to hear that more. A lot more.

“What’d medical say?” Price asks, dipping his head to trail kisses along your neck. Because he had been waiting to ambush you the second you stepped into his office, you never got to tell him.

“Um.” You struggle to collect any rational thoughts as he nips at your neck, his beard and mustache scratching your skin. “They cleared me. Wrapped it and said I was good.”

“And what do you think I have to say about that?”

Trick question.

You groan, but it comes out less annoyed and more like something entirely different. He hums in response before you can even be embarrassed by the sound.

“I don’t want to run for training.” You complain.

“I think you’ve gotten enough things that you want from me.” As if to serve as an example, he presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back. Not too far: his hands on your hips ensure he’s still got a hold on you.

“…maybe.” You relent, staring up at him.

He smiles, reassuring, and you know this is going to stick. “Pretty thing.”

“I know you are.”

“I was talking about you, doll.”

And you knew he was, you were making a joke, but the way he says it has your cheeks flaming. He laughs, breath fanning over your hair, amused.

“Let’s grab food from the mess hall.” He suggests.

“You? Actually grabbing food? At a reasonable time?” It’s a goddamn miracle.

“Yeah yeah, don’t rub it in. Wipe that smile off your face.”

“Yes sir.” You don’t wipe the smile off your face.

“I had my tongue in your mouth, I think you can stop calling me sir. Or Captain, frankly.”

“What, you don’t like that stuff?”

His eyes widen briefly. “Oh, you little—“

#john price #captain john price #captain price #task force 141 #call of duty #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain johnathan price #cod #tf 141 #john price cod #john price x you #john price call of duty

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awkwxrdapple · 6 days

Text

[Before anyone says anything, yes I have a life. I just happen to be an autistic person in STEM so I love stats and any excuse to do an analysis I'm there.]

So let's see how "affordable" $5.99 is a month in the US and then around the world...

[Post comparing Watcher Entertainment's 5.99 US Dollar monthly subscription to different world currencies and what they mean in terms of food (example used is a standard loaf of bread).]

All conversions are correct as of:

US Dollar

According to the United States Department of Labor website in March 2024 a loaf of bread is, on average, $2.00. So that's three loaves of bread for one month's subscription.

Pound Sterling

(My home currency)

According to the Office of National Statistics in March 2024 a loaf of bread is, on average, £1.39 a loaf. So that is three and a half loaves per monthly Watcher subscription price.

Australian Dollars

According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics in 2023 a loaf of bread, on average, was $4.04. So that is two loaves of bread per monthly subscription.

Canadian Dollars

According to this living costs and moving website in March 2024 a loaf of bread, on average, cost $3.02. So that is just over two and a half loaves per monthly subscription.

Indian Rupees

According to The Times of India in September 2023 a loaf of bread, on average, costs Rs 38. That is THIRTEEN loaves of bread per monthly subscription. THIRTEEN!

Euros

So as Euros are used in various European countries I've picked the country with the highest GDP (Germany) and the country with the lowest GDP (Malta), that both use Euros.

In Germany, a loaf of bread costs €1.91 in 2024 according to this cost of living website. That is three loaves of bread per monthly subscription.

In Malta, a loaf of bread costs €0.94 according to this cost of living website. That is SIX loaves of bread per monthly subscription.

I'm not going to make any conclusions. You can all make your own 😅

#watcher #literally was bored and the autism kicked in #i love googling shit like this #watcher entertainment

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 4 months

Text

Bakery Love Story Headcanons w/ Papa Solomons

And a wee bit of a CoD crossover

TH Masterlist

He knows you hate closing shifts, but asks you to work them regardless if he’s on them too.

Truth be told, you don’t mind when it’s just you two because you get on surprisingly well in spite of your differences.

Alfie keeps you out of the bakery’s kitchen as much as possible. Partially because he doesn’t want you around the ovens lest you burn yourself. It’s fine for bread to burn, but your skin?

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!

So you stay out front or only venture there to help Alfie carry bread or pastries or prepare sandwiches. Otherwise, you’re in the front as a barista.

He only trusts Ollie with your company.

Takes you with him when he goes ingredient shopping. He’ll pick you up at the crack of dawn to go to Borough Market with him.

However, those morning ventures aren’t solely about food. Various recent reviews have mentioned the wee bouquets dotted around the place, which has helped increase business. So he also needs your help with choosing this week’s flowers.

Although, it’s better to say they’re your responsibility since you’re the one who offered the golden idea. The price tag doesn’t matter, he’ll pay since your word is gospel to him.

He makes you breakfast when you have to open as well. It’s rare for you to work so early in the morning, but if you do it’s with Alfie. He doesn’t mind having to leave the house a little earlier to pick you up. After all, even at dawn and especially during the first hours of a winter morning, London isn’t safe.

What boss lets his female employee take such risk?

That’s the angle Alfie forces himself to take. Yet, despite the effort and struggle he hides because of it, it’s not a perspective he can maintain. Henceforth, he often finds himself following the train of thought he can’t shake off.

What king puts his queen in danger? What absolutely fucking sodden bastard leaves his girl to her own devices amongst predators and shadows?

NOT the King of Camden.

He likes how you hum or quietly sing along to Ed Sheeran’s songs. Alfie absolutely still doesn’t like the style nor genre, but he does if it’s you providing the vocals. In fact, he likes it so much he occasionally catches himself blatantly staring at you, utterly mesmerized by your presence.

Regardless of whether you’ve had your allotted breaks, as soon as he notices a dip in your energy, he’ll kindly coerce you to take one. Alfie especially likes the ones when it’s you two leaning against the counter, observing the customers while having a cuppa.

And the customers like to keep an eye on you two as well. The latest hot gossip is all about “the bird and the King” and how “there’ll perhaps be a gentler reign of the borough”.

Maybe there will be. Alfie tries to reign himself in when he’s around you, finds serenity in the feeling of your hand on his shoulder to signal to pipe down or let you take over lest things get out of control.

Lately he’s been into hugs. Like, he’ll pick you up and the first thing your groggy head has to deal with is a bear hug and sometimes being lifted into the air.

He can’t stop replaying the moment you compared hands. Can’t stop thinking about the confirmation of the size difference between you, yours much smaller than his. Ever since, Alfie sometimes allows to indulge himself by holding hands.

Out of sight of the other men, of course! Can’t have them tattering on like elderly ladies during afternoon high tea.

But his dreaming always gets rudely interrupted when a particular customer comes in. It doesn’t take long for Alfie to figure out who the stranger is because he needs “to know who comes in and out of me bloody kingdom” and the King has plenty of ears in the streets. So it doesn’t take long for him to acquire a name and the man’s background.

John Price, a captain in the British Army who went through enough to drive any man insane. Saw Hell itself.

Damaged beyond repair like him.

Yet a good man who’s trying to court his secret favourite dove.

A good man who can offer her more than an old gang boss can.

Nonetheless, there’s the toxic burn of jealousy mixed with seething rage whenever he sees you two talk. Sees how well you get along.

Alfie has to force himself to walk away, to rampage in the background among the men when he sees how Price makes you smile and blush. Fortunately, there’s soundproofing in the building. Otherwise, the customers and you would find out his anger is even more white hot than the ovens.

And he reaches the boiling point more often from the day the captain’s cologne becomes more noticeable on you. It’s an unfair trigger to pull on an honourable man. Or so he keeps grumbling and effin and blindin about despite knowing better.

Despite knowing he’s simply too late.

He hates how you’re inconsolable when John’s sent out on a mission. Doesn’t matter how long or short it is.

Now, the King of Camden is a master when it comes to the art of masks so the front you try to put up is nothing but a crumbling act to him. Dips in energy, distant gazes, little eating, they’re all tell-tale signs you miss your captain. Nonetheless, being an opportunist, Alfie uses the circumstances to his advantage by cooking and cleaning for you. Sometimes he even stays the night, but only when you ask him to. To others it may sound odd, asking your boss to stay with you, but to you it doesn’t because Alfie isn’t simply your boss.

He’s a very dear friend.

(And your protector, your “guardian fucking golem”)

Alfie doesn’t ask about your dates, but will occasionally indulge you when he notices you’re afraid to talk about them even though you really want to.

“‘Ow was your date?” he asks on such a morning while cleaning up the dishes of your impromptu breakfast. That small moment during which you shared the food he prepared. Those few minutes in which it was just you two. Together.

“It was really nice. We got coffee and walked around Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park for a bit.” As per usual, you don’t dare meet his gaze because you fear your happiness and excitement will wear him down. It’s part of the reason you avoid using John’s name. After all, the badly concealed frown hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“I ‘ope ‘e’s the one who paid.”

“He did.”

“‘E treating you well?”

“Yeah, he does.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Alfie, alright?”

“Yeah, just… just in me own noggin. You know me. I’m glad you ‘ad a good time. Otherwise I’d ban ‘im from the bakery. The whole fucking borough. ‘E’d be-“

“Thank you.”

Alfie’s surprised you cut him off. Had it been anyone else, they’d likely be face flat on the ground and a wiser person for it, but if it’s you he doesn’t mind. In fact, when the conversation turns towards your love life and John, he’s glad you shut him up. After all, what do you care for his feelings? They’re unreciprocated anyways. “For what?”

“For letting me talk about him. I… I got the impression you didn’t want me to.”

“You let me talk about whatever, so why wouldn’t I return the favour? But enough chit chat. Come on, we got work to do.”

If only to forget about the plot he might have for a new Edna Specter novel.

The Tragedy of Alfie Solomons.

The Baker with a broken heart.

Bonus:

Oh gods, imagine Alfie and Price having a stare-off when Alfie picks you up at your place and John stayed the night. To make matters worse, the captain knows about the King’s feelings for you.🙀

P.S: I’m sorry, but I have to include more Barry Sloane because this man has me in an ABSOLUTE CHOKEHOLD🥵😻

Tag list: @zablife @vir-tual @dreamlandcreations @rose-like-the-phoenix @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer @mollybegger-blog @hoodeddreams13 @babaohhhriley

#Alfie Solomons #Alfie Solomons imagine #John Price #Captain John Price #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Alfie Solomons x You #John Price x Reader #John Price x You #CoD #CoD Modern Warfare

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 10 months

Text

Sweet confections

Oneshot Summary; Price brought the pastries to 141 as you asked him to, who could’ve thought sweet confections would spur the thoughts of sweet confessions?

Pairing: John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 4k

Warnings; relationship-angst, fluff, implied age-gap

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: This was originally 2k🙃 Buuuut, I got carried away with delving into Price after seeing a post theorising about his previous dating life and just couldn’t help myself but write a snippet of the morning after their liquor-tasting date when sunshine!reader asked him to bring pastries to the 141 squad from Price's perspective.

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

On your first date, you'd brought him to 'the little coffee shop on the corner' you so endearingly called it. It wasn't as much a coffee shop as a bakery, Price remarked then. He even mentioned it the second time you'd come here to buy some bread together for dinner at your place. The third time, he'd shaken his head as he drove and spoke with you over the car's built-in phone, 'I've been working in the little coffee shop on the corner, I can wait for you here and we can go together to mine'.

Most of the space belonged to the bakery, stone ovens and counters to assemble the pastries. The rest was a quaint sitting area, with soft couch-looking seats compared to wooden-legged chairs and tables. Indeed, it was charming, gentle in a sense, concerning the neutral colour schema and warm bakery air.

Now Price stood in the same space smelling like newly baked bread and confectionery. It was early, before seven. Hence, the ovens were on full blast, loaded with loaves of bread and danishes. On the baking counter, cold sweets awaited completion, his presence suspending the process.

"Is that all?" Price's eyes focus on the cashier. According to you, she's the owner. She opened the place a few years ago to keep working with her passion after the official year of retirement, at her own pace and with her own ideas to fulfil a childhood dream.

His eyes fall on the things before her.

The usual for him and the rest of 141 on days likes these, coffees to everyone's taste and something to chew on. None favouring breakfast served on base since Price had brought something from his local place. He could scoff that a single prompted decision turned to habit on days like these when they would gather for meetings ahead of missions.

Usually, he would say yes. But this time, Price's eyes flickered to the right. 'Bring them something sweet in my name', your voice echoed from just 30 minutes earlier.

"I'll take some of those", he nods towards the colourful pastries behind the viewing glass.

"Any particular?" The woman asked. His eyes glide over the confections, some seemingly with a base of berries or other fruits, some with chocolate.

Price isn't too fond of sweets. Consequently, neither invested in what's good or not. Thankfully, he recalls which ones you'd pointed out as your favourites. 'Always taste the new ones when they come', you said when you'd visited the place together. Even if that hadn't been the case, Price would've trusted your tastebuds over his.

"Hm, I'll take two of each", he pointed to three different sweets, not attempting to pronounce their name even though in English. What he knew, or rather remembered, was your description of them. The pink one had a base of pomegranate with some curd, sweet but refreshing. The orange one contained peaches and syrupy cream, honeyed but with a delicate fruitiness. The tan one was some brownie fusion, if you ever want to taste diabetes. He'd chuckled when you explained the taste differences.

"Buying them for your girl?" Price's eyes jumps to the woman, who barely spared him more than an amused look between picking the pastries he'd directed her towards and packing them into small cardboard boxes.

"What?"

"Did your girl make you sleep on the couch after some argument? That's why you're trying to win her over with this?" She nodded to the first box of sweets she placed amongst his order.

You, she was talking about you. Price dipped his head, shaking it with a slight chuckle.

He wasn't startled, per se, that the women recognised him. He'd been here a handful of times in the last few weeks.

If it would've happened in the regular place he usually stops by on the way from his home, he wouldn't have even reacted. It was local, small, an everyone-knew-everyone case sooner rather than later. Although quaint for a city with its cosy inside, this place was still strategically placed on a corner between the juncture of two streets. And that's why Price isn't surprised the woman recognised him but tied him to you in the way she had.

"No, ordered me to bring some to my mates". He knew the woman had scanned him today, taken in his hard-to-misplace attire. Where there earlier only been a question mark, he'd now been placed in the box reading soldier within seconds of turning to face him from where she stood further inside the bakery after having called 'one minute' over her shoulder.

"Smart women, know you boys probably deserve it". She commented in passing, bending down to pack up the second sweet. Price hummed in return. "Hopefully, they'll like them, though I don't second her taste", the woman chuckled more to herself even though Price listened.

From how the woman dearly greeted you by name each time and a short conversation if it wasn't too hectic, he'd quickly gathered you were a regular here, your knowledge for someone who tasted but didn't bake the confectionaries giving it away as well.

"That'll be all?" She repeated the question from earlier when finally boxing up the last pastry. The three boxes were now effectively tied together and pushed together with the rest of his order.

"It'll be all", Price returned, reflecting the woman's smile as he reached to pay.

"Tell her I said hi and that I've got something new on the way for her to look forward to". He raised his elbow in an attempted wave, nodding a goodbye as he exited the bakery.

Not until Price stood at the curbside, a tray of coffees, one letter scribbled in neat handwriting on each cartoon cup, and two rather than one takeaway boxes of something to chew on did he realise he hadn't corrected the women once.

Your girl.

Price looked back inside through the windows lining the wall of the bakery. He couldn't see the women, probably already set off to complete the morning routine he'd interrupted.

Did she take it for granted that you bringing him here meant he was something more than just a date, someone you casually met? Because this wasn't neutral ground but a special place to you?

He faced his car, looking at his reflection.

His girl.

Price huffed, shaking his head and opened his car, placing what he'd bought in the passenger seat. He could only speculate why the woman had assumed you were a couple. But he knew why he hadn't corrected her, why he barely even had cringed at the notion of someone calling you his.

...

When arriving at the base, Price wasted no more time than to gather the mission files he'd had delivered to his office before heading to the scheduled meeting room.

When he pushes the handle down with his elbow, the door to the meeting room swinging open, he finds the rest of 141 inside. With his added appearance, whatever conversation they had halted.

"Morning, Captain", Gaz greets him, to which he nods his silent hello, clearing his hands by placing the things from the bakery on the table they sat around.

"Help yourselves to your usual", Price gestured to the things he'd brought. "And a mission file", he continued as he put down the folders he'd kept beneath his arm when not juggling the other things around.

His men reached forth, each taking the coffee cup with their initials along a sandwich wrapped in plastic foil. At first, their eyes were only swiftly shifted to the added boxes with intrigue until Soap dared to unwrap them, catching a look at what was inside.

"The place from yours gotten sweets now as well, Price?" The Scot looked over with a cocked brown, opening the rest of the boxes without taking more than a swift look down. Of course, Soap would be the one to inspect the boxes standing out from the team's usual orders.

"No, stopped at one in the city". Price shrugged, reaching for his cup of coffee but waiting with his sandwich. He would eat it, knowing you would give him a disapproving look if he didn't, though only later, when the coffee kicked in and made him hungry. The first visit back at base after a leave always does wonders of curbing his appetite.

As the black bitterness of coffee bit his tastebuds, he eyes Gaz as he lean forward, inspecting the boxes Soap opened and picked a pink pastry from. As his sergeant's eyes fell to the contents of the packages, he found the variety the Scot inspected seconds earlier.

"Why the hell the detour?" Gaze's eyes met Price, who took another drink of his coffee before he answered.

"No detour. I was in the city already".

Soap, who'd tasted the sweet he'd picked out and whose eyes rolled, accompanied by a content hum, leaned back in his chair as his attention travelled to Price. "What-", he began, eyes widening a wee bit as they locked with Price's. He doesn't know what the Scot saw, but whatever it was, it stopped his sentence abruptly with a rise of brows, a straightening of his back and a curl of his mouth's edge. "It's the lass, ain't it?"

Price didn't know why he stalled, why the takeaway cup halted in mid-air, why he didn't just say yes.

It wasn't that his men didn't know. It was impossible for them not to. They'd been there the night he met you at the bar. They, or Gaz and Soap, having encouraged him to talk to you when he'd hesitated because why would you be interested in him. Ghost hadn't said anything on the matter, but Price bet he found entertainment in how the Seargents' jabbed at their Captain at something so trivial. And much like pushing his first step, their reaction to seeing the two of you leave together followed the same characteristics.

So no, it would be hard for them not to know about you. And there went one of the reasons Price would hesitate to answer.

"S'pose it can't be anyone else", Price relented. The biggest reason he wouldn't indulge the rest of the fact a dispensed reasoning of keeping you hidden meant safety.

It made Gaz whistle, leaning back with one of the orangey sweets in his hand. Soap drummed his hands against his thighs after inhaling the rest of his small pastry. Ghost shifted in his seat, head cocking, eyes sweeping to inspect the confections the other two men had indulged in fleetingly before his attention returned to Price.

"How's it goin' then? Asked the lass out since last we saw the two of ya disappear in the sunset?" Soap asked, his question prodding for two answers rather than one. But rather than levelling the Scot with a look, something that silently would confirm his suspicions of what happened the night Price drove you home, he leaned back in his chair with a tip of his head.

"We've talked some, met a few times as well". Price took a sip of his coffee as if it would do anything else than exacerbate his nerves upon you being the subject of conversation and the memory you'd more than just talked after some of your dates. "Got those from one of the places we went, some of her favourites".

"Old romantic, you are, Cap". Gaz's comment made Price clear his throat. It was followed by a 'yeah, yeah' muttered under his breath almost bashfully.

"Well, I'd say the lass is rubbin' of good on ya", Soap steered the conversation in his ever-present direction of jest on topics like this. "Ain't all time our dear Captain spoils us with such sudden acts of kindness", the Scot reached forth, picking one of the chocolaty treats this time with a smug look and a glint in his eyes towards Price.

He can't help but roll his eyes at the jab. "It's her spoilin' you, not me. Ordered me to buy some for you lot as a greeting".

That made Soap's signature grin form. "The lass orderin' you around already, Price?"

"The real question is why he's accepting it. He doesn't like us bossing him around and barely any higher-ups as well", Gaz stated, lightly elbowing the Scot at his side with a chuckle, the latter joining in agreement.

"Did the request come this morning?" Ghost pulls his attention away from his snickering Seargents.

With his eyes settled on the man who'd been quiet until this moment, Price knew his Lieutenant didn't ask the question because he needed the answer, only the confirmation. If anything was Ghost's forte, it was gathering the scattered pieces of information dropped throughout the chat, what’s between the lines, enough to build a picture of what went on behind the scenes.

Price clocked that for the veteran, who'd nursed his coffee with sparing sips and lifts of his mask, there'd been enough details throughout the conversation for him to flesh out the parts left untold. The knowing look reflected in Ghost's dark eyes exposing it as well.

"We went out yesterday, stayed the night", Price brushed off. Knowing Ghost, he'd say there's a smile hidden beneath the mask, equally as smug as those visible and directed at him from the other two men.

"Starting to think you don't want to indulge us, Cap", Gaz pointed out. "It seems to be going very well between you two".

"Aye, Price, when will we meet ya lass again?" At Soap's question, the morning flashed before Price's eyes.

He'd woken up before you. No need for an alarm that Price was scared would wake you up in the process and he would hurry to shut off. The military had since long engrained the early hours in the back of his mind.

He'd woken with a blink of his eyes rather than a slow descent from slumber, immediately noting that during the night, the two of you had shifted to something more comfortable for sleeping than the previous cuddling. Your back was towards him, a little gap between you. Even so, his arm draped over your waist, and your warmth reached his front angled towards you.

Price had dragged his hand lightly down to your hip, feeling the skin beneath the oversized shirt you'd gone to sleep with, but his hand managed to sneak beneath nonetheless. When his palm settled on the curve of your hip, your skimpy panties beneath his skin, he'd pushed up on his elbow.

His eyes had travelled over your face, or what could be seen of it as your arm partly covered it, checking if you were awake even though your breathing already suggested you weren't. Noting your stillness, Price made his way out of bed slow to not stir you.

Dressing into his jeans and shirt felt wrong as he watched you continue to sleep soundly. He wanted to stay for a few more moments, press close to your back, bury his head in your nape, and linger in the moment. But he knew his willpower to go to base and hold the meeting he was supposed to would wain if witnessing you slowly coming to in his arms.

Price had debated how to leave your flat and fetch the things in his car without getting locked outside. He just brought your keys with him in the end, deciding against leaving the door ajar behind him, concerned for your safety despite the second gate out to the street.

He didn't meet anyone as he went down to his car and up again, allowing Price to wallow in the lingering warmth of your body close to his as he pulled his jacket tight around him in solace. Despite being summer, it wasn't warm in the mornings, crisp and slightly chilly until the rays peeks over the edges of roofs.

A feeling that hadn't been present in a long time, not a genuine one, at least, settled in his bones as he walked through your home with his bag slung over his shoulder. Domestic, his thoughts supplied a label to the feelings growing in his bones, muscles and every fleshly part of him as he slowed his pace past your bedroom, the door open enough that he spotted your sleeping figure beneath the covers.

It lingered as Price had taken a shower, using the towel hanging beneath yours on the rack when done. He'd stopped asking what towel to use just a week before, as a second joined your smaller one near the sink and one by your body towel.

He'd felt something warm enter him when he first noticed the newly added additions, even more so when he'd asked about it to be entirely sure and your head had popped into the opening. Explaining almost shyly you thought he should have his own from how often he's been staying overnight, and so he doesn't need to ask every time.

And since then, Price had become used to moving around your apartment without you by his side. Something about you giving him permanent things at your place erased that 'stranger' feeling one had before getting comfortable in someone else's space.

That's why, when he'd crouched by the side of your bed this morning, dressed in clothes portraying such a different reality to what he felt like this fever-induced daydream was, Price couldn't wait for you to prove that this wasn't just a morbid fantasy created under the influence of morphine taken to ease the pain of a nasty wound, one he was too incoherent to remember.

You'd shown him a part of yourself, your most intimate space, your home, to him, making him comfortable here. He could relax when stepping over your threshold. Knowing he stepped into your world. And yet, everything feels tied to you, not him. That's why he invited you over to his place, wanting not only to see your reaction to stepping into his world but seeing you in his home would settle the anxiety gnawing at his bones. Or so he hoped.

Price felt his fingers, which rested on his thigh, twitch. He wanted to reach for the phone in his pocket and settle the plans for the weekend that were coming with a quick text, even though it was only Monday.

He sighed at himself, remembering correcting the faulty phrase concerning you and his relationship, even though it came from someone much closer and who knew more about his relation to you. "She ain't my girl".

"Why? The two of ya already act like a pair, it seems". Price's eyes flickered to the pastries' Soap motion to, or more so, the significance behind them.

"They've known each other for a month, Johnny". Ghost's comment eases his nerves.

Yes, he'd gotten to know you well over a month. Outside 141 and his nearest circle within work, you were the one he felt the closest to. He'd caught himself entertaining the idea, not only upon talking with the lady at the bakery and now with the men surrounding him, but this morning when he'd walked around in the silence of your flat. He didn't dislike the idea of enjoying his or someone's space together with the other. But it was the first time he liked someone enough to tie into that future.

You brought so much for Price to look forward to, but most of all, you were the embodiment of comfort. Just your presence was enough for him to relax, let his shoulders drop and the tension in his neck ease. That's why it felt right spending time with you, why Price didn't think even a second about how much time you'd spent together despite meeting a month ago.

And yet, today, this morning, made him hesitant to go too fast forward, to let the previous night and this morning make him let go of all reins and fall headfirst into whatever this was.

Today this life, the one his occupation as a Captain of a task force entailed, merged just slightly with the reality he'd created with you on his leave.

You knew he was military, SAS, but neither of you mentioned his work, the topic not easily slid into, despite that you'd explained your job in more detail. It would've been more than right of him to do so in return, but explaining and talking about his profession was one of few included in general parentheses.

There was only so much he could clarify about the field he operated in. And legally, he couldn't disclose much about the task force either. If you hadn't known they were military the night you met and he hadn't gotten to know you'd dabbled in his field of work, he probably wouldn't have mentioned many of the things he had. He didn't keep it a secret, not the basics, but neither was Price one to bring it up in conversations.

Still, you stayed. After everything told and not, you were still here. You wanted him, or so Price assumed since the first night you'd met.

He assumed it wasn't simply feigned interest you'd shown when you'd concerned yourself of what haunted his mind when on leave. He assumed, that when he'd seen the gears turn in your head of how you could voice your questions without overstepping, it was from the sincere concern of doing so, not a forced attempt at seeming friendly. He assumed, that when you so sweetly looked at him only to say in that purred voice that you wanted to help him relax, it didn't only mean for the night.

Otherwise, you wouldn't have entertained him for this long. Yet again, that was what he thought. However, what Price knew what that he needed to give you something to work with. You couldn't support him without him relenting something about himself, this side of him.

He didn't blame his previous partners for his fleeting relationships. Not entirely. He'd remained strict with letting too much spill too early, knowing how some may react, how they try to pull away gracefully. Somehow it was a test, an unintentional one but a test nonetheless. And the answer didn't come until after his first deployment, when he found out how his supposed partner reacted to his previous emotional distance and later physical disappearance. A test of boundaries, one could call it.

And concerning it was only a few weeks more until his first one with you, he thought about it. A lot.

Price shook his head. He blinked, eyes refocusing, noticing his gaze had gotten stuck to the pastries on the table. As his eyes flickered up, he found that Soap and Ghost still exchanged arguments.

"Shouldn't stop him from askin' the lass if it feels right", the Scot said, arms now crossed over his chest, his shoulders resting against the backrest of his chair, spine curved.

"Can't rush", was all the masked Brit responded with, along with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Enough of his. Let's get on with the meetin'", Price interrupted, effectively ending the conversation. None of the others argued, noticing it was their Captain rather than Price commanding them to drop the subject as he opened the mission file before him.

Nevertheless, as they started the meeting, Price couldn't help that Soap's and Ghost's arguments replayed in the silence. Neither how you entered his mind when listening to the others discuss the details of the OP. It never overtook his attention, but it lingered in the back of his mind, gnawing away at the nerves in his inner skull.

After this mission, Price thought, he'll see how you've held up and maybe have a conversation with you.

He didn't like making promises he wasn't sure could be kept. But, this one, that he would come back to speak with you about it, he would go above and beyond to keep. Because it felt different this time, he longed coming back to you before even shipping off.

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frogchiro · 2 years

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Pierro be worshipping at his wife feet when they’re alone. Doing all cute couple stuffs and some spicy rough bedtime. If he’s a yandere all of this would be x10 which is just 😚.

Warnings : yandere theme, hints of blood and gore, hints of past noncon/dubcon, feeding kink.

“My dear, can’t use your wrists? It seems I went to hard on you last night. No need to try feeding for yourself, don’t want it to be worse right?” He picked up your spoon which is not even full and re-scoop the stew again and again till he deems it’s an enough amount for you. But that’s scoop can’t fill a child while mouth.

“It’s still hot, I’d hate to see little you burn your tongue.” He said and blowing smokes from the stew. This time you agreed, the foods he make always hot like ironing your tongue especially when he adds spice.

“There we go, open your mouth.” Knowing it’s better to obey, you complied. It’s absolutely delightful and delicious with a bit of bitter iron taste. But that’s fine, it’s better than his bread soup.

“Let’s finish this bowl of stew, shall we?” This morning will drag till almost noon. You’re sure of it.

omg THIS ur so smart nonnie lemme give you a respectful kith, i've been re reading this since yesterday

warnings: yandere themes, dark content, yandere!pierro, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of violence/gore (not against reader), dependency, reader is a bit of a ditz, slight infantilisation, implied large age gap but reader is explicitly stated to be an adult!, fem!reader, 17+content, also possible spoilers for pierro's past

OKAY SO, imagine yandere pierro who indeed would worship his little wife, literally worship the ground she walks on, everything you'd ever think of, every little desire will be yours and he'll make sure of it but unfortunately everything comes at a price, a high price

pierro is the definition of the perfect leader, he has all the needed qualities; he's firm and excludes this dominant aura that commands respect wherever he goes, he's cunning and resolute, always knows what to say, when to say and how to say it, and although he's not much of a talker he excludes a type of charisma that draws everyone to him, you saw numerous times how he wields ultimate power and you knew from the first day that the lord harbinger, the jester, wasn't someone you'd wanna have a conflict with

but with all those qualities came also the much darker and apparently not so well hidden desires

pierro is someone who once lost everything, his people, his country and all of that because of arrogance, because there was someone smarter, stronger, wiser than him, because they didn't fucking listen and where did that lead his king and countrymen? to a bloody massacre and a lost kingdom

now he makes sure that you listen to every single word that drips from him mouth, in his mind he doesn't do anything wrong and can you really blame him? he just wants to protect you from all evil, you're the light of his life, the only good thing that's left in this sorry excuse of a world so he has the natural urge to protect

and it really helps him that you're still so naive, so young; sure you're an adult, but compared to him you've seen nothing, you know nothing about the cruelties of the world, the archons who dare to proclaim themselves to be gods

pierro loves it when you cling onto his broad scarred chest while you're both naked in bed as he tells you yet another story of his many glorious victories in battle, of every opponent he ruthlessly slaughtered, the little gasps you let out as the strong arm he has around you slides from your shoulder you the dip of your waist and lets his claws caress the skin there as he grins lightly, sharp canines glinting in the light of the fireplace at the little mewl you let out when he tells you to pay close attention to what he's saying, his hand slipping lower under the thick fur you're under

also he can't let you step out of line right? so he loves to gently remind you, the short albeit sharp talons digging into your delicate little face, that without him you'd still be stuck in that little hovel you called your home, cramped in one tiny house with your dirt-poor family in the shitty little backwater village where he picked you up from on one of his campaigns

he almost feels bad when your beautiful big eyes fill with crystal tears which quickly fall down in thin rivulets down your cheeks as you solemnly nod your head, a tiny 'yes i understand sir' falls from your trembling lips and it's then when his ice-cold heart breaks a little, he hates seeing you cry outside of the tears of pleasure while he's making love to you but this needs to be done, he has to make sure you understand that you're simply not strong enough to survive in the harsh world outside the palace, his tiny lovely wife

so he's quick to wipe off your tears and bring your face, this time gently, closer to his where he lays a chaste but loving kiss on your full lips and delicately touches his forehead to yours before he speaks in a deep hushed voice;

'i know darling, i'm so sorry but you have to understand, you're all i have and i can't loose you to man, beast or god. come with me love, it's late already so let's go to bed so i can properly apologise'

pierro rumbled and when he saw the wide, doe-eyed look in your eyes and the shy little smile that graced your lips he knew he had you right where he wanted to

after all, it's all for the best for you~

#ugh i love him #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fatui #fatui x reader #pierro x reader #yandere pierro #yandere genshin

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justrainandcoffee · 3 months

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Like roses and bread (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc + Luca Changretta) [Part 1.]

«Crime sometimes smells like roses and bread...»

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) masterlist

Summary: Crime not always involved murder. Sometimes it's something harmless for the rest of the world, like money laundering. The problem is that now, a private detective is behind them and for the first time maybe they're about to be exposed. The couple needs to be smarter than Detective Changretta, something not easy at all. Not even with the help of Alfie's ex: Tommy Shelby.

Warnings: None. || Next chapters Tommy will be part of it.

Words: 1.8 k || Series Masterlist

2021

A bald man was sitting in front of Detective Changretta. The day before he called him asking for an appointment and Luca agreed.

The man was in his 40s and his clothes were smart. He tried to hide it, but Luca could see an expensive gold watch and his perfume was clearly one of the finest you could find.

Something about him disgusted Luca. He was arrogant and the kind of man who thinks he's superior to the rest of the humankind.

The kind of man Luca despised.

Luca's orange cat named Dante jumped on the desk and the man tried to push it but when Luca stand up, the man thought it better.

"If you don't like my cats, Mr. Ferguson, then you should've read the sign on my door first. If I were you, I'll think twice before trying to do it again."

"I'm allergic."

"Not my problem. There's the door, go to another place, find another detective. There are thousands."

Ferguson shook his head. "You're the best, that's what people say. My boss needs the best."

"Yes, your boss. Talk to me about him. Who's your daddy?"

His client gritted his teeth. If the detective weren't so prestigious, then Ferguson could spit on that face. Luca Changretta was nothing but a cockroach compared to him. Fuck him and his ugly cats. And yet, Ferguson answered to him.

"It doesn't matter who he is. He wants to remain anonymous. The thing that matters is the people who you need to investigate."

"The owner of the Inn: Alfred Solomons." Luca checked the notes he wrote the day before.

"Yes. And his woman."

"Just two civilians. I don't investigate people who just work, Ferguson."

"That's the problem. They're not just two civilians…at least him. We don't know the woman but we suspect that she's his accomplice."

"Of what exactly?"

"He stole money from my boss' account." Ferguson, cleared his throat "last year, during the quarantine. In June."

"Really? How?"

"Solomons played dirty. My boss didn't know the kind of man he is. Solomons is a corrupt man!" One of the veins in his head was throbbing.

"And so is your boss. I don't think he's a little lamb."

"How dare you! He's a good man, a man who cares about people."

"Yes, sure." Luca rolled his eyes "Do you know I'm not cheap, Ferguson? Don't you? High quality equals high price. I want 60% in advance plus extra cash because I'm about to be a father, so, my baby needs a present. I know you can afford it. Do it for her."

Luca stared at him. Ferguson disliked him and it was mutual but he needed the job and that's why he accepted the case. It was true that he was going to be a father. His ex wife was pregnant and the baby was his. Despite they were exes, one night they shared a moment together and that same night she got pregnant. Now, eight months later, Cathy was waiting to arrive in their lives. And for Luca, both mother and daughter, deserved the best.

Ferguson gave him a cheque, before standing up and walking towards the door "Just do your job, detective Changretta."

"Just don't be an asshole, Ferguson."

Never trust a person who doesn't like cats, thought Luca. And Ferguson, clearly, disliked cats.

In the same city, but far away, Rose were working on their new place. The inn "The Wandering Jew" was open and Alfie was, of course, still his owner. But at the same time they opened a bakery months ago called "Cyril's cakes."

It was a project that both of them thought about during 2020 and finally it was real. And it was quite successful, too. They had to hired another baker to help Alfie while Rose was in charge of the customers.

Nicely decorated, delicate colours and always smelling like fresh bread, "Cyril's cakes" was famous for having a statue of Cyril itself. People, kids especially, used to take pictures next to it. The real dog was never there, so, for customers that was the nearest they could be to him.

That particular morning, she smiled when saw Alfie crossing the door. They've been together for over a year now and even when it was quite recently, it felt like much more than that.

Alfie removed his mask to gave her a kiss. COVID was still a real thing and every precaution was necessary. Still, he didn't want to waste another minute to greeted her. Not that she resisted him.

"Fucking missed you. Horrible day," she let him put his arms around her waist "Karens everywhere."

"Story of my life," he responded, kissing her now blonde hair. "I'm here now, love. Anything new?"

She shook her head. It was an ordinary day and apparently it wasn't going to change. In fact, the whole week was ordinary. Until, it wasn't anymore.

That morning at the bakery had been the calmest of the week, which Rose was grateful for, considering that dealing with difficult customers took a lot of her energy. Of the list of people who had placed an order for that day, five of the six had already gone to pick up their cakes. So only one remained. The rest of the customers were just casuals who were just dropping in to buy something before going on their way to work or back home.

Rose was texting her brother when a tall, thin man made her lift her head. His curious hazel eyes were looking around him and had a mysterious aura. Behind his mask, Rose could notice that he was smiling.

"Good afternoon, miss."

"Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?"

Luca looked at her. He assumed that she was Alfie Solomons' girlfriend although, for the moment, he knew nothing about her. Not even the name but he did know that the woman worked there.

"I ordered a cake two days ago. I'm Vicente Young." Luca said. He used his father's name and his ex's last name to cover his real identity.

There was the last of those who had placed an order. It was a chocolate cake with cherries, simple but tasty. She asked him to wait while she went to the refrigerator at the back of the bakery. Luca just nodded.

There was nothing in particular that caught his attention and definitely if what Ferguson said was true, then the evidence wasn't going to find it there. Still, pretending to be looking at his phone, Luca snapped several pictures of the place. Including Rose. Luca tucked his device into his pocket just as the man of interest appeared behind her.

Alfie Solomons was there. Wearing a flour covered apron that he took off and left on the back of the chair where Rose was sitting moments before.

"I have to go with Ollie," he said "the boy doesn't know how much one plus one is. But it's all done."

"Ok. I'll see you at home later then. Take care of yourself. Love you."

"Love you too. See you."

Alfie barely glanced at Luca as he passed, just gave a nod of his head by way of greeting and continued walking out of there.

"Your husband?" Luca smiled amicably, trying to take information away from her.

"No," Rose replied, letting out a chuckle "We've only known each other for a year."

"So you met during the pandemic?"

"Yes. Long story. I was stranded in London and during that time I met him and well, a year later here I am."

"A good 2020, then, more than most people can say. He's the one who's in charge of baking?"

"Yes. Cooking in general is not really my best ability, let alone baking. But he's really good and enjoys it," Rose's phone on the counter began to vibrate. The incoming call cut off the conversation between Luca and her.

Luca pretended to look for money or a card in his wallet to pay for the cake while she took the call. The detective didn't know who was on the other end of the line but clearly the woman had been forced to give her name and in the process, Luca had saved himself a step in finding out her identity. So Alfie Solomons was dating Rose Coldwell who, according to her, had been stranded in London the previous year and had been there ever since. The detective was still amazed at how easy it was to get information if you knew how. People, as a rule, were too trusting.

Luca said goodbye to her after paying and left. For a first meeting that wasn't bad at all. In addition to the two names of the people he was interested in he had gotten a third: an Ollie who he would find out who he was. He needed to go back to his office and use one of his whiteboards exclusively for this case he called "bread and roses."

There were times when the work was repetitive, but this didn't seem to be one of them. If there really was something illegal behind this recent pairing then there were also more people involved than just the two of them. There were always more people, the issue was who. And finding out was the best part of it all.

He thought about going to see Aveline. But at that hour, Linnie was sure to be taking care of her sick mother so he decided to see her later and ask her personally if she needed anything. For the time being, he would go back to the office .

The sun had been out for at least half an hour. Cyril's cakes was already closed for customers and Rose was ready to finally rest on her couch, cuddling next to Alfie. That was the best part of the day. Rose had secured the door and was pulling down the blind when something that looked like a rock hit her shoulder, causing her to groan in pain. But when she turned to see what was happening, she only saw a hooded figure running away.

"What the…"

The rock on the floor was wrapped in paper and she picked it up. Only two words were written on it:

Enough to make her heart beat fast. We know.

Rose quickly got into the car and drove home. Now she really needed to see Alfie.

We know.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders #tom hardy #peaky blinders x oc #modern au #luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #tommy shelby

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bimboficationblues · 2 months

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I think it's necessary to engage in a re-materializing of the history of political and economic thought, which still generally hew to very Whiggish or Great Man contours - contextualizing theorists within their appropriate place in history (Hobbes and the English Civil War, Ricardo/Malthus and parliamentary debates) is necessary but insufficient, it isolates thought to the domain of professionals and philosophers

prompted by reading Rebecca Spang's book Stuff and Money in the Time of the French Revolution:

While many historians have recently developed the history of economic thought as a version of intellectual history, this book follows a different path. Since money features in any market transaction and in many family arguments, it seems wrong to limit “economic thought” to the work of a comparatively small set of canonical authors. Surely if David Hume, Adam Smith, and the marquis de Condorcet had ideas about money, so too did any woman who bought bread, sold fish, or pawned her wool blanket every summer. That the thoughts of these latter individuals have largely gone unrecorded makes them more difficult to trace but no less real or meaningful to consider. Wherever possible, therefore, I shift attention from the enunciated theories of philosophes to the enacted practices and everyday conduct of ordinary people. In doing so, some of the questions asked in this book are deceptively simple looking: What did people do, physically, with money? How did they handle it? When did they need money and when could they do without it? ... The misperception of value as a quality inherent in things (rather than as a product of relations between people) is central to this book’s analysis. Take, for instance, most revolutionaries’ commitment to the ideas of money as merchandise and of money as a good which should, like any other, have its price determined by supply and demand. Such an assertion only became plausible when the social trust and shared cultural norms of monetized exchanges were routinely mistaken for (and asserted to be) qualities of physical currency objects themselves. This confusion of the social for the material (this fetishism, in the Marxist sense) arose first as a form of political criticism: when they insisted value inhered in metals, seventeenth- and eighteenth- century writers from Locke to the encyclopédistes tried to limit the otherwise absolute power of a monarch who ruled by divine right. Transposed to a political context in which sovereignty resided “essentially in the people,” however, the idea of intrinsic value had far different and largely disastrous effects... For it meant the means of exchange most commonly used by the great majority of the actual people (small change, personal paper, book debt) could easily be treated as worthless. Revolutionary lawmakers, nearly all of whom believed political liberty and economic deregulation to be inseparable, long refused to take any action that might have ameliorated the situation. A fundamental tension hence existed between the liberty of the metaphorical “people” and the increasingly precarious, lived existence of ordinary men and women. Neither the symbolic nor the material but the contrast between the two drove further radicalization...national money was meant to create shared emotions but it had the effect of highlighting socioeconomic difference. Intentions and outcomes did not coincide.

this is part of what I find compelling about Capital but also what makes it something of a sprawling mess - not that Marx was insufficiently charitable to his theoretical sources, but that he was simultaneously examining and critiquing political economy as a mode of thought - a "mode of thought" being not just a set of canonical theorists (Ricardo et al) but also emergent from people's real practices

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fumblingmusings · 1 year

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You ready for the most niche thing ever but hey this is what we do here you just have to bear with me as I take 3,000 years to get to the point because learning more about the repeal of Britain's Corn Laws in the 19th Century the more it's just a microcosm of that oh so blessed North American Triangle of Britain and America making deals and Canada going hey wait a second dynamic. Poor Mattie playing second fiddle at... nearly every interaction involving these two.

So. Corn. The Corn Laws were passed after the Napoleonic Wars by Britain to keep prices high for domestic producers, of course making lovely profits for landowners, rather than the farmers who actually grew the stuff. It also prioritised colonial grains, so Canada got a boon with its wheat and flour. Nice example of Mercantilism right there.

The problem wassssssss by the 1840s you have the Irish Famine, food prices are too gosh dang high, no-one has disposable income because factory owners are cutting wages wherever they can, and it's so blatantly obvious that this system only profits the top 10% of British Society. There's no shortage of food, it just costs too fucking much. Ireland is starving and the government is sitting on their hands being useless.

A lot of pressure later, Free Trade is favoured over Mercantilism, and the Corn Laws are dropped. Britain can start importing wheat, barley and other cereals form the cheapest supplier: the US. This is not coincidental that the main MP pushing for their repeal - Richard Cobden - was a massive fan of the USA, doing a lot to try and get the two countries to be friendlier to each other. He subscribed to the 'the more economically entangled you are with another country the less likely you are to fight them' which... has its truths.

So... cheap bread good? So that's one thing.

EXCEPT Canada got completely screwed over since they had gotten priority for any externally grown grain for most of the 1840s - causing a bubble in their market. So when the Corn Laws got repealed and it was open season to the cheapest supplier much of Canada's businesses went bankrupt and following series of unfortunate events semi related to corn people burnt Montreal's Parliament and the capital moved to Toronto and it gave yet another push towards Confederation in the 1860s.

So that's a second thing.

It also kind of screwed over the domestic UK farming industry as the age old 'why buy domestic expensive if foreign cheap?' came into play and another wave of emigrants move to the US and the Dominions in the second half of the 19th century because being an agricultural labourer ain't what it used to be (like 100,000 of people with those jobs 'vanish' from the census within ten years, going to the city of abroad). The fact that, compared to 1830 where Britain imported just 2% of its grain, to the 1880s where it was 45%, (65% for wheat)... Uh-oh.

So that's a third thing.

ALTHOUGH, this did have another side affect of ensuring Britain could not get involved in the American Civil War like okay yes the South was very much banking on the need for cotton to push Britain to intercede but psych! The working class people of Lancashire are braver than any Confederate solider and refuse to work with cotton picked by enslaved peoples and would literally rather starve. Especially as, at that point 40% of the wheat people ate came from Northern US states. What's more important? Bread or cotton?

So... that's a fourth thing.

Anyway. Corn.

Sorry I had to make use of an out of date meme.

I'm just fascinated by how domestic actions can still massively impact other nations... Arthur doing the right thing for his people by lowering bread prices indirectly fucks over Matthew but also protects Alfred down the line. Like... urGH! You know?

#follow me for more stupid not entirely correct history ramblings with the hetalia lens slapped on #hetalia #op #historical hetalia #hws england #hws canada #hws america #headcanon

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clatterbane · 5 months

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New plan that I'm intending to get going, with the excuse of a Christmas treat: finally getting a small, relatively easy to maintain planted tank set up here, for some shrimp and most likely a betta. Because my cheap ass evidently needs some excuse beyond "I just think they're neat." 🙄

Considering one of these setups:

https://aquaremedyireland.com/product/shrimp-set-smart-2-30l-black/

(Not from this place; that was just a handy link in English.)

The model name is pretty coincidental. I was just looking for a tank of around that size, which happens to be a popular setup for mini shrimp. Currently going back and forth between the idea of also getting a matching stand (which is pricier than the tank itself), and just picking up a reasonably sturdy small table from IKEA. I could get, say, a Skruvby--which looks functionally very similar minus a cabinet door--for less than half the price.

It's both exciting and sort of intimidating to be starting over completely from scratch with aquarium stuff. All of it basically ended up getting abandoned back in Romford. Including the multiple tanks of various sizes.

I don't have 15+ years of accumulated equipment/supplies to dip into now and set up another small tank on the cheap, or really the means to get out looking for bargains or picking stuff up from the local Craigslist equivalent--and pretty much everything aquarium (or most other hobby) related is spendy as shit here, compared to when I was feeding my aquatic habit in the UK.

But yeah, it is what it is. And we can afford to get a damn shrimp tank up and running, even at full Swedish retail prices. Better just pretend it's Monopoly money, and pick up what I need.

(Also, gotta say that my tiny dyscalculic brain is also still more prone to sticker shock, seeing as it's around 100kr to $10 or £7.50. Gotta shift that decimal point one space over for those quick mental conversions! Otherwise you're gasping at a $25 loaf of bread. Could be worse, it could be either yen or, say, Jamaican dollars for the extra denomination mindfuck. Just remembering hearing one guy bitching about spending J$200 for a head of cabbage after some bad growing weather. 😱)

But yeah, besides just really looking forward to some new little water buddies? I'm enjoying mentally planning out the aquascaping and looking at some potential options. Also looking forward to the prospect of planning around something as polite as these little guys.

They couldn't really tear/gobble up their plants or root around in the tank substrate if they even wanted to, so you don't need to plan around that. (Yes, I am looking at you, messy carp beasts goldfish. 😒) Easier to get things looking nice with tiny guys who actually like to help by grazing on algae.

#personal #rambling #aquarium #ghost poverty #freshwater shrimp

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d1stract-and-daydream · 1 year

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MY LITTLE INFERNI (NIKOLAI LANTSOVxOC)

WC: 3k Summary: Following a heartbreak with a certain childhood friend, an inferni asked to be stationed somewhere as far away as possible–to heal, while also serving her country. It's going well, until she realised her feelings were, in fact, requited.

[This is the longfic I had in plans after 'You Made it Easy'. I update once a week/every two weeks on Ao3, but will update here as well.]

CHAPTER 1: SCORCHWITCH

“How much for the plums?”

Dasha picked up the ripe purple fruit, squishing it in her hands to check for rot. Next to them are various fruits; apples, pears, perfect round peaches—and her mouth waters at the thought of having peach jam to go with her bread. For a country known for its never ending winter, it’s quite surprising how they can grow the amount of fruits that they do. She’s not even surprised if illegal grisha labour is involved somehow. Saints know how they treat grishas in Fjerda. In fact, being forcefully indentured might sound better to some than getting killed for simply existing.

The village market was nothing compared to the perfectly arranged stalls they have in Djerholm—but Dasha finds it endearing; almost whimsical in its own way. She preferred the Ravkan market more, though. The wares were more colourful, especially in the summer and spring. Rows and rows of stalls full of produce, flowers, cloth and the Zemeni spices her brother used to love. He’d buy something from the spice stalls every time they visited the marketplace and use those to make his famous hot chocolate. Dasha knew it was only delicious because of the spice,but Stepan never got the chance to tell her what the exact ingredient was before he left. She missed his hot chocolate. She missed Stepan.

The sky grumbled. It was such a lovely day this morning, but she can see dark clouds approaching from the distance, sensing a storm coming soon. Just as the snow had stopped falling for the day. Great.

“Oh, dear Astrid!” The stall owner greeted her. “Good to see you today. Doing some shopping for the mister?”

Dasha smiled, still not quite used to the identity Zoya had given her. She had been undercover in Fjerda for almost a month now, disguised as a housewife to a leatherworker;a member of the Hringsa. She repeated her new name to herself the first week she arrived— Astrid Karlen, Astrid Karlen, Astrid Karlen— just so she wouldn't be an idiot and say her real name; Dasha Lenkovya, whenever she had to introduce herself. The story she had concocted was that she’s a girl from a rural Fjerda village looking to marry someone who can take care of her—and live somewhere closer to the city for better opportunities. It was simple, but so far, no one had mentioned anything about it.

It was her request to be sent somewhere far away for work—heartbreak makes you do weird things—but she didn't expect Zoya to assign her somewhere this far.

“Yes,” she replied, “although I’m not sure I will get anything else done today with a storm around the corner.”

She turned to look at the sky, and the lady at the stall followed her gaze. Her mouth twisted downwards, and Dasha grinned. Her fruit stall seems wonky and there was nothing to cover its wares and owner from the torrent of bad weather Fjerda has been experiencing lately,so the lady will have to close shop sooner than she planned.

“Djel must be angry.” She states, as her eyes scanned through her unsold produce. “You know what? Any other fruit you want, I’ll give it to you for half the price. At least I’m getting something instead of leaving them to rot .”

Dasha laughed and picked herself a variety of colourful fruits; apples, plums, peaches, and pears—some for dinner, some for pies, some for the jams she plans to make. She reached into her coin purse for the payment, when she overheard two ladies in her periphery sounding distressed.

“It’s just a precaution,Clara.”

She arranged the produce neatly in her netted bag—taking her time, focusing her attention on what the ladies were saying. If there’s anything Zoya had taught her, it’s that even gossip from the townspeople can offer valuable information. She just had to be diligent enough to sift through and separate idle talk from intel.

“They probably arrested him,because you know—he’s not actually the upstanding civilian you think he is.” A pause. “When they find out he’s done nothing wrong,they will release him.”

“That’s easy for you to say. He’s my brother!”

Hmm , so people have been missing . She had heard the same words from different people over the course of two weeks now.

She hurried down the gravel away from the market square, not wanting to be caught out there by any authorities, or worse, Druskelle. Sure, the Druskelle rarely patrols this far down from Djerholm, but with what had been happening lately—the miracles blooming here and there in what she was guessing was a part of Nina Zenik’s plan—it’s normal to be scared.

Her role in Fjerda is to be a dormant agent, to be used only to send messages or news to Ravka. She hasn’t stumbled into anything that requires active work yet, so to her this kind of feels like going on a vacation. Except she has to pretend that she’s happily living with the man of her dreams who she had only known for a month now. It’s already hard enough for her to form bonds, but Zoya had to pair her with someone as ill-tempered as Henrik Beck, who reminds her of the boys who pull on your pigtails just for the fun of it.

It also took her a while to get used to the ways of Fjerdan women, to be obedient and prude, or in her case seem like it, but other than that, things were going swimmingly. Well, sometimes she wishes the weather was less harsh on her skin—her nighttime routine consists of slathering herself with animal grease so she wouldn't shrivel up like a prune.

She stopped by a house a little further left to the market square to pay its tenant a visit. It took her three knocks before a boy a little younger than her answers, his face a welcoming olive against the harsh colour of snow.

“Dasha,” Adya Yul-Naran whispered as he ushered her into his home. His assigned home. Dasha had known Adya’s sister Zaya since she was a fresh-faced student, still struggling to control her abilities in Baghra’s hut. They have been close enough for her to share some of her secrets, and for Zaya to ask her to take care of her brother as a favour. Dasha treated Adya like her own brother already, so she was planning on doing that, anyway.

“It’s Astrid, Oswin Westegaard. Common Fjerdan name for common Fjerdans, remember?” She reminded Adya, sitting herself in his comfy armchair before he even had the chance to extend the invitation to sit. She placed her bag of fruits by the side of the chair, sinking into the chair like it was made for her.

“Aye, Astrid, I daresay you got that aright. Please, make yourself at home. Fjerdan hospitality,” Adya mimicked as he poured her a steaming cup of tea. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Dasha laughs, threatening to hurl one of his many throw pillows at him. “Just curious as to how my charge is doing. That, and I’m seeking refuge from that nightmare outside,” she replied as she took a sip from her cup.

Adya crossed over her to pull the curtains down, so that they could talk away from prying eyes.

“You know how those Fjerdan are,Dash. You can’t just visit the home of unmarried men when you have that six feet hunk of a husband to return to.”

Dasha’s mouth hung open. “Adya, are you lusting over my fake husband?” She asked, a grin spreading on her face.

“Please.” Adya rolled his eyes. “I have better taste. Though I have to admit, Zoya picked a fine one for you.”

Dasha giggled at his admission, though she can’t say she had the chance to look at Henrik thoroughly enough to agree.

They exchanged a couple of pieces of information regarding the mission before Adya slapped his knees and stood, claiming, “You best get going, Dash. That storm cloud looks like it’s going to chase us with a cane,” and Dasha agreed as soon as she saw how close it was. She packed her stuff and rushed out of his doors hurriedly lest she got caught in the storm.

She manages to return just as the sky starts sprinkling its first wave of rain. The house she lives in is situated in Kvívik, a quaint village further east from Djerholm, with most of its building still made up of timber—a stark contrast to the brick and concrete Djerholm is packed in. It was near enough to the capital for her weekly visit, but not that near that it became a common patrol route for Druskelle.

Bag hanging from her elbow, she unlatched the door to the small snow cabin she had been living in the past month. Well, to Fjerdans, it’s just a normal house. She pushed her wet hair away from her forehead as she entered. The light from outside shone a path from the front door to a small dining table and a modest kitchen Dasha had helped set up.

She hung her coat on the hook by the door, shook the dirt and snow off her boots before removing them. He’s not home yet. Her shoulders sag in relief, though she doesn’t know why she was so tense to begin with.

Dasha hummed a Ravkan lullaby as she emptied the fruits from her bag to a basin full of water so she could rinse them. She watched as they bobbed up and down, thinking about the summer festivals in Ravka, then realised that her teeth were chattering.

Changing to something dry, a modest dress that Fjerdan women often wear, she wrapped herself with the blanket she had brought with her from Ravka—blue fleece embroidered with gold stars—and approached the fireplace. Her fingers were numb as she struck her flint to conjure a small kindling of flame to start a fire. It’s probably wiser to use the match propped on the stool to the side of the fireplace, but her hands were too shaky to even attempt to strike a match.

She sits there for a while and watches as the flame grows, the dancing of fire taking her back to the nights spent with an old friend. Someone she probably should try to forget by now, the reason she was here to begin with. She tried to tear her eyes away from the fire,but the rhythmic movement was too hypnotising—her mind too quiet.

“I find fire mesmerising,don’t you?” Nikolai told her one night, and she agreed. He took a swig out of an amber bottle and continued, “Yellow and orange, like autumn leaves. The sway of them almost looks musical, dancing and playing like the silk ribbons they sell in Noyvi Zem.” She listened to the poetry pouring out of his lips, remembering how the subject of it illuminates his facial features. If she was drunk enough, she would have kissed him.

A loud creak startled her out of thought. She looked to the door, tense, hand on her flint, to find out it was Henrik just returning from work. Saints, how late is it? When the outside wind from the open door crept in, she scoots nearer to the fire to find out it had burned out to a pile of ash on the hearth.

Henrik dropped his tool belt on the dining table, scowling.

“Stupid girl, why didn’t you start the fire?”

Dasha cringed at the scornful tone that came out of his mouth—she does not like this man, and it doesn’t matter if Zoya says that he’s helpful towards the cause.

Standing up to grab some more firewood, she replied, curtly, “I did, but got distracted .”

“I should’ve asked the Stormwitch for more competent help.” Henrik dashed past her to the woodrack before she did.

Her hands trembled, movement so minute that most would just assume it was out of cold or nerves. Then he swiped the matches off the stool and took one out to restart the fire. What would Zoya do if she found out that Dasha had singed their valuable intel’s eyebrows off? She could do it right now—could enlarge the sparks from the matches to make it big enough to reach his face. She chose not to, but there’s a surprising comfort in knowing that she can.

“First of all,” Dasha crosses her arms, “I’m not here to be the help.”

Henrik grunts, more focused on feeding the fire so that it gets big enough to warm the entire house instead of just himself.

“I’m here for my country. And secondly—” she flicks her hands, making the flames roar, barely licking the cuffs of his coat. “—have you forgotten that you were talking to an Inferni?”

The corners of her mouth rose in a smirk, satisfied as she made him tumble back on the heel of his feet.

He stood up to make himself dinner, rubbing the charred cuff at his wrists, and Dasha heard him call her something under his breath.

“ Scorchwitch .”

***

Dinner was frugal, butter smeared toast and smoked deer meat—though Dasha wished she had jam to go with her bread. She added that to her mental list as she grabbed a couple of plums to snack on as she wrote Zoya a message regarding the stuff that was happening in the market square earlier. Reports of missing people, some saying that they were taken to the Ice Court for trial.

She doesn’t think that the missing people were taken there, because the Ice Court is—according to the Fjerdan—a place for people who were considered the bottom of the barrel. So, Zoya, the infamous Stormwitch, would definitely count as the average barrel dweller. Maybe she would be considered one, too. She’s pretty confident that she could wield her ability well enough to annihilate an entire town. If she tries.

Dasha shook her head, once again distracted by her weird musings. This is why Nikolai called her a ‘space cadet’, which is quite a fitting nickname for her in general. Though she knows it was mostly because her head was always in the clouds—and not because of her love for the stars and moon that adorned the night sky.

She finishes the letter complaining about Henrik,as usual—bless Zoya for putting up with her—and folded it neatly into an envelope. She’ll ask someone from the network to send it out tomorrow, but today she just wants to relax and not have to think of anything else.

With the last bite of her plums, Dasha stood up and walked to the washbasin to splash her face clean before going to sleep. She looks into the mirror and inhales sharply—a little alarmed at the person staring at her in the mirror. Oh, she whispered to herself. She forgot that Genya had tailored her face to fit the usual Fjerdan features. It’ll take a while for her to get used to the new face. Blue eyes, the bridge of her nose a little too high that it looks weird if she were to have it with her original face. And Saints , her hair. She preferred her auburn curls much more than the limp blonde she had to settle with. What would Nikolai say if he were to see her now?

She tucked herself into her bed, her body weary. She hasn’t used much of her power lately, and the dark circles under her eyes were getting too prominent. Today was the first time in almost two weeks that she had even had a reason to use them. And one of them was out of spite. She smiled—Genya would be proud of her. No more being careless, though. It’s far too dangerous to display even the tiniest hint of Grisha abilities, even this far away from Djerholm. Just like Ravka has the Hringsa everywhere in Fjerda as eyes, so does Jarl Brum. It’s hard to trust anyone these days.

***

“Dash!”

Dasha jolted up from her cot, startled. She took a moment to process her surroundings, using her flames to disperse the darkness she woke up to. Droplets of rain pitter pattered the roof of the tent they had been living in the past months, and Dasha shivered as a gust of wind blew into the slight opening of hers.

Who was calling her? She peeked out, dimming her fire so she wouldn’t leave soot on the walls of the tent. Her eyes widened. Several steps north of their camp, before the trees lining the Sikurzoi, a pyre was set up. Smoke haze her vision, but she can see that something was propped up on the pyre, and the burnt smell of it was so overpowering that her eyes teared up. She looked around—assessing her surroundings for danger—and found that the camp was eerily empty, almost like a mass exodus had happened in the span of one night. When she was sure that nothing would sneak up on her, she raised her hands to diminish the burning pyre, but stumbled when she heard someone calling her. From the pyre. “Dasha…” the person—or rather, creature—croaked, burnt hands outstretched towards her. The voice seemed oddly familiar, and fear tingled up her spine. As the smoke started clearing, she noticed something new that she had missed before. It had wings. And talons. Its eyes as black as the charred wood that was used to prop up its body. It’s—

Dasha’s eyes shot open, sweat beading down her forehead. That was the third nightmare she had had in two weeks. She was at the campsite in all of them, reliving the horrors of the slaughter her mind refuses to let go. This was the first time Nikolai was in it. As the demon. She was pretty sure that when Nikolai’s creature first visited her several moons ago; she was not that scared. So why was she dreaming of it?

Clank!

Dasha’s back straightened, startled. The damn neighbour’s cat is always running into things at night. She was about to return to sleep when she heard the soft pit-pat of footsteps on snowy grounds. Who’s up this late ? She rises and knelt on her bed to take a peek outside. Darkness would’ve cloaked the neighbourhood had it not been for the moonlight providing a wash of dim light against white snow. A figure silhouetted against the walls of the shed to the left of the house. She considered telling Henrik to come and see before another figure joined the first. She wanted to conjure her flames to see the faces of the figure, but decide against it. Should she tell Henrik about this? Maybe in the morning when she feels fresher to deal with his sour self.

She pressed her ear closer to the frosted glass of her window to try to catch a glimpse of what sort of dealings were going on in the dead of night. The winds were not helping her,at all, but she managed to catch one word that gives her an idea of who one of the figures is.

Scorchwitch.

It’s Henrik.

Here's the prologue.

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