#cameras from Sweden

[dancuny]

Hasselblad 1600F Camera

Looking through my collection, I had a couple of different cameras in mind, but they use 127-size film, which I ordered a few days before the intended day to take photos. Unfortunately, the film hasn't arrived in time for me to shoot photographs when the weather is nice and sunny, so I'll put them off for the next blog. 

 As I gazed at the items in my collection, the Hasselblad 1600F caught my eye. I had purchased it many years ago, and the last time I had the pleasure of using it was a couple of years ago. The thought of loading a roll and exercising the focal plane shutter in this early version of the Hasselblad camera filled me with anticipation. 

 I generally use the Zeiss 80mm f2.8 lens on the camera, but looking through some of the lenses I have for this and the 1000F, I do have the Kodak Ektar 80mm f2.8 lens, which was the lens initially sold with the 1600F here in the US, and later the Zeiss 80mm f2.8 was available. For this shoot, I got out a roll of Ilford FP4 125 film, which I loaded into the film back, and I put on the Ektar lens to see how it would work. I was pleasantly surprised.

The Company:

When I think of cameras that have made an indelible mark on the field of photography, Hasselblad undoubtedly comes to mind. They are known for capturing iconic moments on Earth and beyond. Hasselblad cameras are synonymous with precision, durability, and unmatched image quality. At the heart of this remarkable brand is the story of its founder, Victor Hasselblad, and his relentless pursuit of excellence.

 Victor Hasselblad was born in Gothenburg, Sweden, in 1906 into a family with a photography and photographic supplies background. While Victor initially followed in his family's footsteps, he soon developed a desire to innovate and improve upon existing camera technology. At 18, he traveled to Dresden, Germany, to work with the best optical manufacturers of the time, gaining invaluable experience in the technical aspects of cameras and photography. This laid the foundation for his future endeavors and innovations.

 During World War II, Victor's knowledge of cameras caught the attention of the Swedish Air Force. They approached him with a German aerial surveillance camera they wanted to replicate. Victor accepted the challenge and famously responded, "I don't want to make a copy of it—I want to make a better one." This led to the development of the first Hasselblad camera, the HK7, designed explicitly for military aerial photography. Victor's ingenuity soon proved invaluable, and his cameras became crucial tools for aerial reconnaissance.

 After the war, Victor focused on developing cameras for the consumer market. In 1948, the first consumer-oriented Hasselblad, the 1600F, was introduced. This camera was revolutionary for its time, featuring a modular design that allowed photographers to change lenses, viewfinders, and film magazines, making it highly versatile. The 1600F also used medium-format film, which produced images of superior quality compared to 35mm film cameras available at the time. However, the early models faced technical issues, particularly durability, and required further refinement.

Despite the initial technical issues, Hasselblad was committed to improving its designs. By the 1950s, Hasselblad cameras had developed a reputation for being highly reliable, and photographers worldwide began to take notice. In 1952, Hasselblad introduced the 1000F with an improved shutter and slower maximum speed of 1/1000. The camera also came with a Zeiss 80mm f2.8 lens, marking a significant improvement in the brand's offerings.

 The subsequent 500C model, released in 1957, solidified Hasselblad's place in the professional photography world. With its leaf-shutter system and modular components, the 500C became a workhorse for studio photographers, renowned for its reliability and image quality. This camera design remained in production, with upgrades, for decades and became the foundation of Hasselblad's success.

 Hasselblad cameras are most famous for their role in space exploration. In 1962, NASA astronaut Walter Schirra brought a Hasselblad 500C on the Mercury-Atlas 8 mission, sparking a long-standing relationship between Hasselblad and NASA. The camera's build quality, high resolution, and adaptability made it an ideal choice for capturing images in the challenging conditions of space.

 Hasselblad worked closely with NASA to modify the cameras for space use. The resulting 500EL model was specially adapted for the Apollo missions, where it would ultimately capture some of the most iconic images in history, including the first steps on the moon by Neil Armstrong in 1969. The modifications included [specific modifications], which allowed the camera to function effectively in the challenging conditions of space. To this day, the image of Earth from space, known as the 'Blue Marble,' remains one of the most famous photographs ever taken, and it was captured with a Hasselblad. The brand's involvement in the space program elevated its reputation further and established Hasselblad as a premium name in photography.

 With the arrival of digital photography, Hasselblad continued to innovate, embracing the transition while retaining the high standards that defined its analog cameras. In the early 2000s, Hasselblad launched the H-System, a line of digital medium-format cameras that maintained the quality associated with the brand while integrating advanced digital features. This line set new benchmarks in the industry, offering extremely high-resolution sensors, modular components, and sophisticated imaging capabilities that appealed to professional photographers and high-end studios alike.

 More recently, Hasselblad has also embraced the mirrorless trend, launching the X1D, a compact digital medium-format camera that balances portability with the image quality of medium format. This new direction has helped the brand stay relevant, catering to a new generation of photographers who demand portability without sacrificing image quality.

 Today, Hasselblad remains a symbol of excellence in photography. Known for its attention to detail, superior image quality, and dedication to craftsmanship, Hasselblad has cultivated a loyal following of professional photographers, collectors, and photography enthusiasts. While the digital age has transformed the landscape of photography, Hasselblad continues to adapt and push the boundaries of what is possible, ensuring that its legacy endures.

Victor Hasselblad's legacy is a testament to the power of innovation, and his vision inspires photographers worldwide. From capturing wartime reconnaissance to the moon's surface and beyond, Hasselblad has not only documented history but has become a part of it.

My Camera:

My Hasselblad with the Kodak Ektar 80mm f2.8 lens is 6.5" long by 4.5" wide, including the winding knob, and is 4" tall with the waist level finder closed. The camera weighs in at 2 lbs. 15.9oz. This camera is in excellent condition for being around 75 years old. Hasselblad made this camera with a maximum shutter speed of 1/1600, which was very ambitious for a medium-format camera. There is some minor tarnish on some chrome, a small dent in one of the shutter curtains,  and the leatherette is starting to come loose around the waist level finder, but that seems to be it. It's also important to know that the 1600F and the 1000F use focal plane shutters. After these models, the 500c and model moving forward have leaf shutters in the lenses, not the camera body. The exception was the 2000FC model.

Having owned several different Hasselblad models, the camera operations are similar to mine. The film back on my camera is the older C12 film back. To load the film, you need to take the film back off the camera. Well, you don't need to, but I've always done it. You have to have the dark slide in the slot on the left to remove the film back from the camera. The dark slide in the holder presses a pin within the film back that allows the back to come off. If the dark slide isn't in the film back, you cannot take the back off the camera. To remove the film, on the top of it is a sliding circle with a Hasselblad "V" logo that you slide to the right and pull back down to remove it from the body.

 On the left side of the film back is the lock. Pull up the tab on the lock and turn it counterclockwise until it stops, then pull it away from the film back, and the insert will pull out. The film insert is what you load the film into. With the lock on the left, take the empty film spool from the bottom holder by pulling out the roll holder on a hinge to quickly load and unload the rolls of film. Put the empty spool onto the top. The top has a knurled grip on the hinged holder to wind the film before loading it back into the film back to shoot. Put your fresh roll of film into the lower holding area, pull the paper over the black pressure plate and slide the leader into the empty spool and turn the knurled knob to load the film onto the reel. Keep turning the knob until you see the "start" word on the paper backing. 

 Slide the film into the body portion and lock the back securely into the body. On the right side of the film back is a winding knob. Lift one of the handles and wind. On my film back, which is a C12 back, there is a hinged door where you can see the frame numbers as you turn the winding handle. Open the backdoor, watch for "1" to appear, and stop winding. At this point, turn the winding lever in a counterclockwise motion, and the frame counter under the winding knob will reset to number 1. Put the back onto the camera and prepare for the first photo. As you take photos, the film will advance back in, and you can check the frame counter on the film back to see what frame you're on.

Now that the film is loaded into the camera let's go out and shoot a few frames. Remove the front lens cap to focus the camera and pop up the waist level finder. A smaller "V" Hasselblad logo slider is on top of the waist level finder to open the finder. Slide that to the right, and the waist-level finder will pop open, showing an image you're pointing the camera toward. Turn the focus ring on the lens to get a sharp image. If you want a more critical focus, you can slide the slider to the right again, and a magnifying lens will pop up. You can put your eye closer to the magnifying lens to see an enlarged area of the focusing screen to fine focus on your subject. To close the waist level finder, one by one, flip down the side panels over the focusing screen, then the back panel, and close the top, which will click when closed.

 Before you press the shutter button on the front of the camera in the lower right corner, as you're holding the camera, you need to take out the dark slide from the film's back. The camera will not fire if the dark slide is engaged in the film's back. Be sure the shutter is cocked and ready to shoot. To cock the shutter, there is a large knob on the right side of the camera. Pull out the dark slide and turn that knob in a clockwise motion, or so the knob is going forward. This cocks the shutter. Set the shutter speed, which is on the right side of the camera, on the knob that cocks the shutter. 

 Because this model and the 1000F cameras use a focal plane shutter, it's VERY IMPORTANT: DO NOT SET THE SHUTTER SPEED WITHOUT COCKING THE SHUTTER FIRST. If you do, the camera can jam, and with this and the 1000F models, it's extremely expensive to service and, due to the age, possibly not able to be serviced due to lack of parts.

On my Eastman Kodak Ektar lens, the aperture is entirely manual, meaning you need to open the aperture for focus and then stop down to take the photo. Being used to "automatic" apertures where the aperture closes during exposure and opens after the exposure, it's easy not to remember to stop the lens down before taking the photo. Being one that uses a myriad of different cameras, I'm getting used to checking before, but every once in a while, I forget and need to retake the photo.

 If you want to change the lens on your camera, as you hold the camera, there is a button on the front of the camera in the lower left corner, opposite the shutter release. Press the button and turn the lens in a counterclockwise motion to release the lens and put on a new one. To put on a different lens, line up the red dot on the lens and the red dot on the camera body and turn the lens clockwise until the lens "clicks" into place and is secure on the body.

 Now that you've shot the 12 frames on the roll of film, it's time to take the film out, get it processed, and see how you did. To do so, take the dark slide out of the film back, remove the film back from the camera, open the film chamber, unload the film, and put in a fresh roll to shoot some more.

My Results:

After walking around my block taking photos on a sunny afternoon, I wanted to see how the lens would handle and the image quality it would produce. The lens focuses close, down to 20" from the film plane, so I was able to get in close for detail. Here are the results from the Eastman Kodak Ektar 80mm f2.8 lens.

   Conclusion:

I'm��a photo nerd. I love using cameras, especially the older mechanical versions. There's something gratifying and calming about having a mechanical camera in my hands. Whether looking through an eye-level or waist-level finder, taking photos is an absolute joy.

 The Ektar 80mm f2.8 lens is terrific. I liked how the focus was fluid and easy to turn, the ease of opening and closing the aperture, and the picture quality was better than expected. The older Ektar lenses are superb, like those on the Ektar 35mm camera.

 Thank you for taking a few minutes out of your day to read about this early Hasselblad camera. I plan to use it for more shoots in the upcoming months.

 Until next week, please be safe.

Reference:

Hasselblad Website: https://www.hasselblad.com/about/history/first-consumer-camera/

[cowes]

[woso-dreamzzz]

Klumpig's Halloween:

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: The fourth of my Halloween-centric fics

Frido sighs as Aitana approaches.

"Don't," She says.

"I haven't even said anything."

"And yet, I knew what you were going to say. So, please, don't."

It seems that everyone in Frido's life has decided to ignore her though because Aitana still speaks.

"She dressed up as you, huh? That's kind of funny."

"It's really not."

"I thought it was funny."

"That's because you've got the same sense of humour as her."

Frido takes a swig of her wine, looks at the glass for a moment before downing the rest like a shot, already reaching for the bottle to refill it again.

You're across the room from her with Vicky and Salma. They're gone the more traditional Halloween route, Salma as a vampire and Vicky as a werewolf.

You've decided against that even though you used to love it.

Frido's whole camera role is filled with pictures of you from your childhood in your cute little Halloween costumes. She can still remember dressing up like a ghost with you and helping you go around town trick-or-treating while your parents got the family Halloween party started.

Somewhere along the way, at some point during those years when Frido left the country and you got older, you'd decided against all the traditional Halloween stuff.

No more masks and cute costumes and insisting that you're 'a unicorn-princess-witch, Frido! Obviously!' in favour of more chilled out costumes that you didn't have to buy and could just scrounge up from your wardrobe.

Maybe you'd even throw on some gory makeup to really sell it but gone are the days of you in a little white sheet with eye holes cut out and fake, oversized teeth.

You were a teenager now and after last year's fiasco of you just dressed as a 'first dead girl' from a horror movie, Frido's done arguing - though she does make sure to take your picture in front of the wall to add to her Halloween collection.

This time though, you've really outdone yourself, deciding to forgo your wardrobe entirely in favour of Frido's.

You're in her Barcelona kit, her shorts, her shirt and her socks. You've taken her favourite pair of football boots and even her shin guards. It was cold when you left the house so you grabbed her Sweden warm up jacket even though your own was perfectly capable of being worn.

"Oh," Ingrid says over the top of her own glass of wine," Here we go."

She glances meaningfully back over at you as Alexia walks over.

"The point of a Halloween party," Alexia says," Is to dress up, Frido. If you don't dress up then the younger players won't dress up."

"I am dressed up."

"You're wearing your football kit. You're hardly dressed up."

"But I am!"

"You're not."

You turn around, relishing in the brief look of surprise that crosses your captain's face. It always takes people a few seconds to realise which Rolfö they're talking to.

"But I am!" You say triumphantly," I'm Frido! I should have brought a wine glass with me but I didn't want to push it."

From across the room, Frido sighs.

"I don't always have a wine glass on me!" She yells.

You look pointedly at her hand and she hastily puts it down.

"You should tell her off, capi," You say to Alexia with a cheeky grin," A glass of wine after every big match to unwind. Isn't that so bad? I mean, you don't even drink during the season. Surely, Frido should follow your lead, right? I mean, you don't want me thinking that what Frido's doing is acceptable?"

"Stop trying to set Alexia on me!" Frido yells back," If I want a glass of wine for putting up with your craziness then I'll have a glass of wine."

You ignore her in favour of laying it on thick with your captain.

"Alexia, are you listening to her? First she's drinking and now she's calling me crazy! You should really bench her!"

"Funny," Alexia says dryly," You must be really getting into character because she asked me to bench you a few weeks ago as well."

You grin. "Well, at least she can't ask you to do that now, seeing as...you know..."

You gesture to your bandaged leg. Most of it is hidden under Frido's shorts and socks but a bit of it peaks out.

Frido sighs, clicking her fingers and pointing in front of her.

On any other day, you'd probably argue a bit about it but you're with the team right now and you know they can only take so much Rolfö cousin bickering.

You hobble over on crutches to stop in front of her.

Frido stands fluidly, placing her glass down on the side table.

"You know I don't like it when you poke fun at your injury," She says, cupping your cheek in one of her hands," It's serious."

"I know," You huff," But it was just a joke. Just trying to keep it light."

"I know but-"

"It is Halloween after all."

Frido rolls her eyes fondly. "You don't think dressing up as me is joke enough?"

She recognises the cheeky grin on your face the moment it curls upwards at the corner of your mouth.

"Oh man," You pretend to groan," But I haven't even gotten to the best part."

"And what exactly is the best part?"

"The part when I do my impression of you when you found out that Brick was coming to stay."

"No! Don't you-"

"She screamed so loud," You tell the group assembled near Frido's seat," And stomped her feet like a little girl. She said something like- Hey! Put me down! Frido!"

Frido easily lifts you over her shoulder.

"I think we're going to call a cab and go home. It's past this one's bedtime."

"I don't have a bedtime! Stop telling people I have a bedtime!"

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Janet Jackson - If 1993

"If" is a song by American singer-songwriter Janet Jackson from her fifth studio album, janet (1993). Jackson co-wrote and co-produced "If" with Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, with Harvey Fuqua, John Bristol and Jackey Beavers receiving songwriting credits for the sampling of their composition "Someday We'll Be Together", performed by Diana Ross & the Supremes. "If" was released as the album's second single on July 13, 1993. It fuses various genres, including rock, trip hop and industrial music, with elements of new jack swing and hip hop.

It received a BMI Pop Award for Most Played Song and was also ranked among Slant Magazine's "Best Singles of the 1990s" list. It peaked at number four on the US Billboard Hot 100 and was certified gold by the Recording Industry Association of America. It reached number three on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart and peaked atop the Hot Dance Club Play chart. It peaked at number 3 in Canada and 14 in the UK. It reached the top ten of Sweden, the Netherlands, and New Zealand, also peaking within the top twenty in Australia.

The accompanying music video for "If", directed by Dominic Sena, portrays voyeurism, sensuality and intense choreography, while depicting technology that was unavailable at the time, such as touch screens and web cameras. The video received various accolades, including Best Female Video and Best Dance Video at the MTV Video Music Awards, and a Billboard Award for Dance Clip of the Year. It was also voted the second best female video of the decade by Idolator.

"If" received a total of 63,1% yes votes! Previous Janet Jackson polls: #146 "Got 'til It's Gone".

[enwoso]

Alessia Russo + reporter!gf, where Alessia is nonstop flirting with Reader on national television when you're trying to interview her

LIVE TO ALL — alessia russo

masterlist

you were a sports journalist for itv, travelling up and down the country as well as across the world each week to cover matches as well as try and get some of the players thoughts and opinions on the game.

today was the england lionesses vs sweden at home, at a sold out wembley. the game being tense but the girls pulling out a win by one goal and of course it being scored by non other than the alessia russo who just happened to be on your radar to interview.

normally it would take some convincing from some players to get them to do a quick post match interview, most players after a win wanting to celebrate and after a loss was when it was even harder to get players to interview as they just generally weren’t in the mood, understandably.

however luckily you wouldn’t have to do much convincing to get england’s star girl for an interview as she just so happened to also be your girlfriend. so one little bat of the eyelashes and a flash of the smile and the blonde would be right over.

so as your team handed her a mic as she walked over from the pitch hugging you tight as you sent her a loving smile trying your best to remain professional but the girl just looked so gorgeous even after running around a pitch for ninety minutes, her hair slicked back a few flyaways had came loose above her as well as her cheeks being slightly flushed pink probably from the amount of running she’d done.

“so alessia another sold out wembley for the lionesses, does the feeling ever change walking out and seeing that many people in the stadium?” you began the interview as alessia nodded along with what you were saying, her bottom lip inbetween her teeth as you watched as her eyes roamed your face as she held her eye contact with you instead of the camera like she was supposed to.

there was a slight pause between your question and the blonde starting her answer, “oh um it definitely helps to keep us motivated whilst we are playing- as we love seeing our fans pack out stadiums and creating as much noise as possible!”

“speaking of motivation, what helps to keep you fired up especially when your playing top teams like sweden?” you asked as you seen alessia giggle to herself, you being thankful for the fact that the camera can’t see the look your throwing alessia right now.

“well away from football there’s definitely someone who does that for me-” the blonde making direct eye contact with you as a smirk crept onto her face. you knew exactly what she was insinuating on and while the your relationship wasn’t exactly out there it wasn’t a big secret either fans definitely had their suspicions and alessia right now was definitely adding fuel to that fire.

she carried on, you sending the blonde another stern look that told her to behave, “but the staff at england as well as the girls we all do our part to ensure that’s we can all play to the best of our ability to ensure we get the result that we want as a team and as a nation” she smiled innocently as she finished awaiting your next question.

you began to explain the importance of the goal that alessia scored to start off the lionesses euro qualifying campaign while alessia well she was just staring at you, totally zoned out as she licked her lips. her eyes scanning your outfit as she imagined maybe what it would look like on the floor of your shared bedroom…

“and finally how does it feel to finally get your first goal at wembley especially the one that sealed the win for you guys” you finished with a quick smile, slightly kicking the blonde which wasn’t able to be seen by the camera which shook the blonde from her daydream.

“oh- um, wait i- sorry what was the question?” alessia flushed red with embarrassment as you were the one now with a smirk, knowing by her face she hadn’t been listening and also having a suspicion of why she hadn’t been but nevertheless repeating the question again for her.

“yeah, it’s always a good feeling to score at wembley makes it that little bit special but anything to help the team out”

“well thank you alessia and well done for tonight!” you applauded with a smile as alessia nodded, “thank you babe” alessia said so causally, you quickly spinning around mouth wide open as you eyes widened.

the interview already been finished as your team off-mic’d you both. alessia with a smirk which was widening on her face, you knew she had done that on purpose.

“i love you?” she whispered, as she looked at your less than pleased look on your face.

“your on thin ice miss russo!” you warned narrowing your eyes at the blonde as she slung her arm around your shoulders guiding you both down the tunnel as you knew she was rolling her eyes at your stern tone.

“hey! it’s not my fault the person who was interviewing me happened to be my really sexy, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend!”

[michaelnordeman]

My journey is coming to an end. Tomorrow, I will drive home to Värmland. I’ve seen and experienced so much on this trip, capturing some of it with my camera, while other moments remain only in my memory. It’s been an amazing adventure! But now, I can’t wait to reunite with my family, both human and non-human. You can soon expect the usual mix of squirrels, birds, and roe deer on my Tumblr! Here are some pictures from Billtjärns urskog Nature Reserve in Jämtland, Sweden (May 30, 2024).

[ma1dita]

have you been watching the paris 2024 olympics?? i just think luke castellan is so like athlete coded, i’m just imagining him like as the athlete from sweden (?) in pole vault who broke his world record and then ran to his girlfriend like imagine luke doing that to you AGHHHH i’m on a luke as an olympian (the athlete) brain rot

the alchemy

luke castellan x reader a/n: i absolutely loved this request. mando duplantis i dream of you and your girlfriend every night. wc: 612

Luke Castellan swears he can feel his heart beating out of his ribcage. That, or it’s the thunderous roar of the crowd—it must be one or the other with so many people here, a sea of faces and noise and….

Deep breath in… and out.

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many people in a single room, and his brain hurts to even consider the people watching this live. Gods, there weren’t even this many people at qualifying, and there’s so many people counting on him. Honey brown eyes scan the crowd for you, his good luck charm as he squints, getting on his tiptoes in hopes of catching a glimpse of your smile. Your presence does wonders for his performance and his nerves, the past few years of late nights at the facility, strength and endurance training, and the crazy diets you’ve joined him on to accommodate bulking and cutting. 

You’ve been there through it all.

He’s got two more shots at breaking his own world record, and to most, they’d assume he’d treat it like a piece of cake. But his mother always taught him to be humble, and he reckons she’s whispering something similar into your ear right now, wherever you two are in the stands. You’re his biggest cheerleader after all, on the days he feels like he can walk among the clouds and even the ones where his feet seem stuck to the concrete.

Luke rolls out the crick in his neck before bending over to grab his grip tape and liquid chalk. Going through the motions of years of proficiency worth his blood, sweat, and tears, he zeroes in on the crowd, walking up to the runway.

Just like we practiced, he thinks to himself, hearing his name get called out by the officials.

LUKE CASTELLAN, REPRESENTING THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!

LUKE CASTELLAN, DES ÉTATS-UNIS D'AMÉRIQUE!

Two minutes start on the clock—-and he runs like the wind.

Sprinting, taking the air out of his own lungs as his feet pound against the pavement, his fingers tapping against your initials that he etched into his pole as he gives it his all.

And then the other end meets the vault box and he’s flying.

Soaring through the air, momentum swinging his legs like a pendulum and by the smile that grows on his face—he knows he’s got it even before his feet touch the ground, and the only thing running through his mind is you as he contorts over the bar effortlessly.

Like echolocation, the only voice he recognizes through the commotion is in tune with the blood rushing through his ears, a scream that could only come from the depths of your soul, “BRING IT HOME BABY!”

And he’s ecstatic now, suddenly unaware of the resounding smack his body makes against the landing mat because his joints spring up tirelessly as he propels himself in your direction like Pavlov’s dog running towards the sound of a golden bell. Luke can barely see at the speed he’s going at, launching himself over the stands but he knows you’re there to catch him and he knows he’s gotten gold as he smashes his lips against yours. This must be the alchemy that you do to him, pulling his heart into yours with just the glimmer in your eyes and the sheer love you show to accomplish his dreams—he’s a winner for sure, with you by his side. Flashes from cameras surround his peripherals and you both can’t do anything but chuckle.

Gold medal aside, he’s got all he needs in his arms right now. 

Luke thinks he’ll be getting you your own gold hardware soon too.

[mrchiipchrome]

Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘

description: the times that convinced the account y/n.bronze that they were right about the captain and Lucy Bronze's relationship

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lucy bronze x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction - do not take any of this seriously!

warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, cuteness

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y/n.bronze: Here is a thread of instances which confirm that Lucy and y/n are together in my mind - the bottom of the thread is where it gets good.

1. How Lucy looked at her during the post match interview after beating Spain??? Like, her eyes were literally heart shaped??? I want that!

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y/n was absolutely knackered, it had been a very eventful game and while victory was in the end a 3-1 win for them, it didn't feel as if the game was easy.

The England captain was being practically held up by her midfield counterpart Keira, the woman well aware their captain would get player of the match, having scored England's first and third goal of the game.

y/n had been everywhere that game, hardly stopping and continously talking and shouting to her girls so much her voice had gone hoarse. She was sipping at her drink slowly, trying to regain some feeling in her body.

"y/n, you and Lucy are up for interviews." Sarina informed her and the captain groaned, her teammates laughing at her as Sarina shook her head playfully.

y/n forced herself away from Keira's warm hold and toward her lover who had her coat in her hands. Lucy and y/n had been dating four years, and while over the past year there had been speculation of their relationship the two had never confirmed it.

They hadn't felt as if they needed to, being happy enough and secure enough to just need themselves and their teams to know. But ever since y/n made the move to Barcelona from her childhood team of Arsenal and her best friend, the rumours had only grew.

The England team adored the two's relationship, finding the 32 year old and 27 year old truly adorable and hilarious in their relationship and had done a considerable amount to help them keep it quiet.

Lucy and y/n made their way over to the interviewer, hands brushing one another's as they smiled at the woman who handed them their microphones and began asking questions.

"No completely." y/n said in agreement to the interviewer, smiling kindly as Lucy paused, her eyes softening as she watched the love of her life discuss their team.

Lucy was looking at her as if she had just placed the stars in the sky, and the camera did nothing to hide the look of pure adoration and love the right-back was looking at her lover with.

"The English are never done, and the girls worked so well today to remind everyone of that, and prove that we have a lot more to give." y/n smiled and her eyes moved to Lucy's.

The look in the older woman's eyes was one y/n say often, and she returned it with just as much love as Lucy began to answer a question, knowing full well, social media was about to go insane.

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2. When y/n was knocked over during the Sweden game and Lucy didn't even hesitate to square up, her face was so worried, and she only stopped when y/n GRABBED HER HAND?!

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y/n knew this game was going to be tough, violent, but she had not quite estimated how much. Her girls were fighting and fighting hard, and they had been rewarded for it. They were 3-0 up, the first goal was her own.

y/n looked up quickly, the ball at her feet as she danced past another player and sent the ball toward Lauren who was making a quick run. Just as Lauren recieved the ball, y/n was thrown.

Her small frame shook and she practically flew to the side as the shove and ankle which caused her fall threw her onto the ground harshly, rolling in the grass y/n coughed out, the air sucked from her lungs.

The whistle blew but Lucy was seeing red. The older woman had always been protective of her girlfriend, the small midfielder usually the victim of harsh tackles as she was too quick to catch.

Lucy's body was instantly covering y/n's her eyes glaring at the Swedish player who had made the tackle, Lucy wasn't foolish enough to do anything, but it didn't stop the anger rolling off her.

"What the hell was that?" Lucy spat at her, the Swedish player trying to come up with an answer as the referee finally made her way over, a harsh look on her face.

y/n groaned as she heaved a breath in, Lucy still shouting at the player in anger, the referee trying to keep the players crowding around her calm.

The medics helped y/n to her feet, the woman confirming she was okay, just momentarily winded. Lucy stepped forward in anger but y/n darted forward.

Her hand gripped Lucy's fingers, turning the right-back to face her as the referee carded the player who had tackled her, her teammates trying to convince the referee for a red.

"Hey, I'm okay, Calm down." y/n whispered to her lover, her own hand gripping her hand tightly.

Lucy's eyes scanned her, trying to see if she was lying or trying to hide any discomfort, but when their eyes found one another Lucy knew she was telling the truth.

"Okay." Lucy whispered, squeezing y/n's hand before walking away, the two both aware that everyone will have noticed the interaction.

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3. Ellie, in a livestream for City YESTERDAY saying that she would stay with Lucy and y/n, confirming they live together - which we already thought!

Then going on to say they have a spare room - even though Lucy has said multiple times she lives in a two bed apartment and y/n has never said anything about her 'place'!

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Ellie Roebuck and Lauren Hemp sat on two chairs, doing a video for the man city women's you-tube of being asked questions and answering them on whiteboards.

The two had just been asked out of all their teammates international and club level who would they like to live with most. Both turning their boards around, Lauren saying 'Alex Greenwood' because she was motherly and cooked well.

Ellie on the other hand had said 'y/n and Lucy' the two in Barcelona but on the same international team as the blonde goalkeeper, Lauren laughed in agreement.

"Well, they have a spare room, y/n cooks such good food and I feel like I would be looked after." Ellie laughs, Lauren chuckling along.

"Their spare room is lush, super homey with all the blankets." Lauren agreed.

"And the weather in Barcelona is all hot and nice." Ellie added. "So yeah, definitely the skipper and Luce!" Ellie adds smiling.

It was only as the two blondes walked away from the end of filming did they realise what they had done, because Lucy had stated several times she lived in a two bed apartment.

And the two had managed to spill the fact the two lived together and they had a spare room, they instantly facetimed their captain, but the woman wasn't worried.

Both her and Lucy weren't overly worried about hiding their relationship anymore and to Ellie's relief she was invited to stay with them during the off season to taste more of her captain's delicious cooking.

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4. The fact when y/n scored in the Sweden game she ran at Lucy first??? AND JUMPED ON HER

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It was ten minutes into the semi-finals of the euros. Sweden were a fantastic side, everyone knew it and as y/n waited on the outside of the box, she hoped one of her team had the ability to head this corner in.

The ball was sent in, it bouncing from a Swedish head and landing at y/n's feet. The woman hardly thought, she just reacted and fired it at the top corner, the net shaking from the strength of her goal.

y/n grinned, shouting in happiness as she ran at her lover, to estatic to care in the moment as she jumped at Lucy, the brunette catching her easily.

y/n's legs locked around her torso as Lucy's hand went under her arse and the other around her back to keep her stable. Lucy buried her head into her stomach as the team swarmed them.

y/n jumped back down the team crowding her in a hug, and as they ran back to restart she shared another loving smile with Lucy, the two both loving the eventual photo which came from that celebration.

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5. The fact y/n left ARSENAL - her childhood team - to go play for Barca only months after Lucy had and she even admitted in an interview LUCY WAS A BIG PART OF THAT DECISION

6 When Lucy called y/n in an interview the other day and she answered with 'hi my love???' LIKE????

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y/n smiled as she listened to the interview asking her how it was to leave Arsenal for her new team, the reds having been such a massive part in her childhood.

"It was so hard, yes, it was great to know Keira and I were going from our respective clubs together, but I definitely left a big part of me in North London." y/n nodded.

"I came through that academy, my best friend is there, my co-captain through it all. So yeah, it was a tough decision." y/n nodded.

"And what helped that decision?" The interviewer asked.

"The sun here definitely." y/n laughed and the interviewer joined her in her laughter.

"Well, you are half Italian. Anything else?" the interviewer asked, but her phone began to ring and y/n muttered an apology as she answered it, Lucy's name on the screen.

"Hi my love. You okay?" y/n asked into the phone, her lover replying with a yes and asking where she was. "i'm just at an interview Luce." y/n hummed.

"Shit, forgot, sorry, I'm going." Her girlfriend gasped before hanging up the phone. y/n chuckled and apologised again, the interviewer waving it off as she asked about the right-back and y/n felt the honesty flow through her.

"Yes, Lucy Bronze was a big part of it too, obviously she has been at Barcelona longer than I and we talked a lot about the move, she was such a help in me deciding." y/n explains.

"She understood my worry, but also helped me ease them and for me it was about learning a new way of football, and Lucy has been such a help in me getting used to it here." y/n smiled again.

And when that interview would eventually come out, Lucy Bronze would be holding her lover, letting the tears fall as she pressed her lips to y/n's continuously telling her how much she truly loved her.

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7. THE FACT THAT THE MOST RECENT BARCA TRAINING PHOTO Y/N HAS LUCY'S TRAINING TOP ON - AND WHEN KEIRA NOTICED SHE MOVED SLIGHTLY TO PLACE HERSELF IN FRONT OF THE NUMBER SO THE CAMERA COULDN'T SEEE

^

fr I need friends that dedicated to hiding my relationship

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y/n huffed as she tugged her shirt up again, the marks on her collarbone hidden well enough for now by the shirt which seemed far to big for her today.

The right-back chuckled as she pulled the car to a stop in the car park, leaning over the console to cup her girlfriend's face. Her hand gripped y/n's jaw, turning her to face her.

"Stop huffing." Lucy chided, leaning forward to peck the pout from her lover's lips.

"If someone sees these Lucia, you won't have any sex for a week." y/n warns the woman.

Lucy instantly whines in protest her hand reaching down to unclip her lover's seatbelt and pull her sideways across her lap, y/n letting out a panicked yelp as she did so.

The two despite being in a relationship for nearly four years, they were still parallel to teenagers, hardly ever able to keep their hands from one's another's body and their lips from each other's mouths.

"I don't remember you complaining last night baby." Lucy hums lowly, her accent thickening with the gruff in her voice, the sound of her lover's moans, the arch of her back engrained in her brain as her favourite movie.

Lucy's lips pecked down the side of y/n's neck, the girl instantly bending her head back to give Lucy more free skin to work with which caused the brunette to smirk at the hold she had over her.

"In fact, I remember the words, 'faster' and 'more' coming from your mouth a few times last night." Lucy continues.

y/n's eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure inducing tension, but she pushes herself up and off Lucy, glaring at her lover who she realises is just trying to seduce her.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" y/n asked as she leans down to get her bag, jumping out of the car, but as she turns she feels herself pinned, Lucy's hips stopping her moving as the brunette leans over her easily.

"Would you like me to seduce you?" Lucy asks, her lips brushing the shell of y/n's ear. The player shivers, leaning up to press her lips against her lover's who matches the fierce force of her kiss.

"Ay ay ay!" a shout echoes and the two pull away to see Mapi and Patri grinning and cheering, y/n rolling her eyes as she drags her lover inside.

"Lovebirds, no having sex in the car park." Alexia warns the two, but there is an amount of amusement in her eyes as she hugs y/n in greeting.

"Too late for that then." Lucy hums innocently, causing Mapi to spit out her water.

"Que??" Mapi shrieks and y/n shrugs at her friend.

what

"It had been a long week." She hums and Alexia wrinkles her nose in disgust.

The group laugh it off and walk to the gym, Keira and y/n discussing the newest episode of Queen Charlotte they had been watching together with bright excitement.

Just as they started working out, the usual social media team moved inside and the group cheered them in welcome, having known them well by this point.

y/n was doing her usual stretches, chatting with Aitana when she felt it. A body behind her, blocking her back from the camera and y/n turned to see Keira.

"Hey, you okay?" y/n asked as she turned to face her friend, the camera moving off them.

"Yeah, just, didn't want anyone to think you've changed numbers." Keira hums and y/n's eyes widen as she looks behind her and sighs at Lucy's number on her back.

"Thought this was too big for me." y/n sighed and Keira chuckled. "Must have grabbed her extra this morning." She adds, before she pauses and looks over at her girlfriend who was grinning happily.

"She gave the top to you this morning didn't she?" Keira asks, already knowing the games Lucy liked the play.

"Yep." y/n sighs before she walks over to her girlfriend and Keira laughs as Lucy shrieks.

"Ow!"

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LASTLY - the fact they went on holiday together after the euros after Ibiza, and the photos ... the PHOTOS

okay, I'm done, they're soooo dating, thank you.

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y/n giggled as Lucy's hand tugged her toward the villa they were staying at. The team who had gone to Ibiza after the euros had rented three villas for them all, and Lucy's and y/n's room-mates were still out partying.

Due to the fact, Leah, Georgia, Jordan were planning on not coming home for several hours, Lucy saw the opportunity to steal her girlfriend away and spend some time truly celebrating her lover.

"Come 'ere." Lucy hums, leaning down and connecting her lips to her lover's. The villa just in sight as y/n sighed into the deep kiss, her hands gripping Lucy's shoulders.

Lucy's hands trailed down y/n's bare back, burning the skin with her soft touch. Lucy nipped at y/n's bottom lip causing her to moan into her lover's mouth.

"Come on, we're nearly there." y/n gasped at Lucy and the woman nodded, fumbling to get the door open and tugging her lover in. Quickly the right-back pressed her lover against it.

With her strength Lucy easily held the power as she pressed a dangerously loving kiss against y/n's lips. As they continued and the noises got louder, neither of them noticed their phones going crazy over a very shadowy photograph.

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"Smile!" y/n chimes, Lucy turning her head just as y/n snaps a photo of her lover, the two now in Spain for a private holiday of their own before returning to their club.

Lucy chuckled as y/n smiled at the photo, leaning over to pull her lover closer, y/n sighed as she settled into Lucy's shoulder, turning on her front to let her back tan for a bit.

Lucy's hand wrapped around her, landing on the skin of her ass which was bare due to the thong swimsuit she was wearing. Once again the two had rented out a small house.

Therefore no one was near, no one could see their back pool or garden and no one could make any noise complaints over the next seven days.

Lucy's hand squeezed for a moment before letting her hand settle, still gripping slightly and y/n huffed, trying to push her lover's hand off.

"Stop, I'm going to get a tan line." y/n scolds, trying to pull Lucy's hand off.

"Is that supposed to stop me?" Lucy asks lazily, y/n scoffs and biting her shoulder in response. "Ow!" Lucy yelps, sitting up.

y/n makes a noise of pride, shuffling her sun bed away from her lover and closing her eyes as she continued to tan, her lover going suspiciously quiet.

Suddenly, there was a faint pull from her back and she was lifted over someone's shoulder. y/n let out a call of shock, especially when she realised the pull was Lucy discarding her bikini top.

"Lucia!" y/n called, but the brunette just ignored her and threw her onto the bed, jumping on top of her quickly so she couldn't scramble away.

"We have a few hours before dinner. I've got time." Lucy said simply, before her mouth found y/'s nipple and the woman lost all fight in her body.

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After dinner, and y/n once more taking photos of her lover who she continuously told was the most gorgeous in the world. The two walked slowly back to their place.

The two walked across the beach, feet sinking into the sand as they talked, hands connected shoes in Lucy's bag. Eventually Lucy pulled her lover to a stop, just outside the house, the sun only just setting as she did so.

"I'm so proud of you love, you know that?" Lucy asks the Lioness captain. "You took us to that win." She adds and y/n sighs as she leans forward.

"I did it for you." y/n said simply, forehead's connected. Lucy did not fight that, because she knew it was completely true.

"I love you." Lucy hums.

"I love you too." y/n replies, leaning up to kiss her lover in the shadow of dusk. The light kiss so quick, it hardly happened, but both felt every spark it created.

Lucy led her in the night being filled with loving and soft touches, whispered nothings and soft moans, neither noticed the camera which had caught the kiss moments ago.

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END

[nadvs]

Hello! Im the anon who asked for a fic with rivaly at college 😍 OMG! I love what this turned in to. You are an incredible writer!! I hope you know that. You have me hooked. You write dialog amazingly. It feels so real. Never stop writing!!

Can you write something about when she get jealous? Maybe when he is in the NBA?

Hope you have a great day!

Love from Sweden

HIII omg it’s such a good premise!! i remember being in love with it the second i read your ask 🙂‍↕️ thank you so much 💘 i’m so touched that people like the au and want more of it 🥹

based on this fic

» au masterlist

rafe can get wildly, intensely jealous. and while they often joke about how similar they are, that’s one trait she doesn’t share with him. until he gets signed and moves away.

he doesn’t have as much time for texts and calls. he’s training with his new team, working up to the season. she gets it. or at least, she tries to.

she already had unwelcome thoughts swimming in her head when he had been signed to a team states away about him getting lost in the fame and potentially being unfaithful. she never worried about him cheating before. and she hates that she’s doing it now.

but she tries to keep it in. things between them are already tense. accusing him of something just because she’s insecure isn’t fair and will likely just push him away.

then, she visits him. they share their first i love you’s. they’re in a good place.

but when the season starts, that’s another story. it’s surreal seeing her boyfriend play on tv on such a massive scale, thousands of seats surrounding the court filled. she’s so happy for him and whenever the camera focuses on him, she can tell he’s nervous and she loves that she’s the only one in the world who knows it.

but then between periods, she catches glimpses of his team’s cheerleaders before the cuts to commercial. and she can’t lie to herself that these girls are beautiful. and she wonders if maybe he already lived out the college fantasy. maybe now that he’s a professional player, he’ll have his eyes on professional cheerleaders. or really, any girl, because she’s sure he could get any girl he wants.

as the season goes on, because she likes to keep up with the nba on social media, specifically him and his team, her tiktok automatically shows her videos and edits of her boyfriend, some comments from fans about how he’s the next best thing, but most from girls going crazy over how hot he is.

it puts her into a funk. he sees gorgeous cheerleaders at every game. he gets comments on his instagram from beautiful girls. the internet is losing their mind over him. how can she possibly compare?

so, the next night she’s on facetime with him, she can’t hold it back any longer. after they talk about their days, she starts to pick at a string on her shirt, looking down.

“so…” she says. “do you ever get a chance to talk to the cheerleaders?”

rafe looks at her with knitted brows. she’s been off since she picked up the phone, seemingly mad at him. it’s not like them to not be direct.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he asks.

“nothing,” she lies. “just wondering if you ever talk to them. they’re good dancers.”

he hates the way her lips are turned into a frown, her eyes off the screen.

“i only wanna talk to one cheerleader and she’s pretending she’s not mad at me right now,” he says.

this earns a smirk from her.

“they’re all so pretty,” she says. “i’m not blind. and you’re not, either. there’s no way you haven’t noticed them.”

“i moved here to play,” rafe tells her.

“and you know girls online are going crazy for you,” she continues. “don’t act like you haven’t seen all the comments on your instagram.”

rafe studies her image on the screen.

“you know you have nothing to be jealous of, right?” he says. he hates to admit it, but it’s kind of flattering, especially because she isn’t usually the intensely jealous type. it shows him she still wants him.

she sighs. of course he sees right through her. not like she’s being subtle anyway.

“i do, though,” she says. “and maybe it’s stupid to talk about because i’m annoying you and making you feel like i don’t trust-”

“you’re not annoying me,” he interrupts. “you’re being really cute, actually.”

“cute,” she scoffs, her eyes still low.

“look at yourself on your phone,” he says. she rolls her eyes and obliges, gazing at her reflection on the screen.

“now what?” she mumbles.

“if you can’t see how beautiful you are, maybe you are blind,” he says.

“stop,” she laughs softly. “it’s not that i don’t trust you. it’s just that… it has to feel like a waste to be getting all this attention and ignoring it all because of some girl back home, doesn’t it?”

“some girl,” he echoes. “you think you’re just some girl?”

she shrugs. his chest aches.

“you’re my best friend,” he says. “i wouldn’t fuck this up for anything or anyone in the world. you’re it for me.”

her vision blurs with tears. she flattens her lips together and finally nods.

“sorry,” she says weakly.

“for what?”

“for being so jealous.”

“i already told you it’s cute,” he says. she smiles again.

“i love you, okay?” she mumbles.

“i love you, too, okay?” he teases.

they talk for another hour, then she tells him she needs to go to sleep so she’s not totally exhausted for her morning lecture. he has the day off the next day, so he stays up a bit longer on his phone after they hang up.

when she wakes up, she sees hundreds of instagram notifications on her phone. rafe posted a photo of them from the last time she visited, tagging her with the caption: All I need.

before she even gets out of bed, she’s crying. because of how good he is to her. because he’s telling the world he belongs to someone already. because she’s sure that he loves her just as much as she loves him.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[repulsiveliquidation]

One Call Away

bottom! Alexia Putellas x top! Reader

this is just straight up smut. you could consider it a part two of that ramble i wrote a couple days ago.

“Fuck, that’s…fuck…”

Alexia sat on the couch of the apartment with her iPad propped up on the coffee table. She was as naked as the day she was born, clothes strewn all over the couch. It looked thrown around haphazardly like she was in a hurry to get naked. Her fingers dipped into her core, languidly stroking her slick folds. Knees wide open and bent, she slipped a finger into her drooling mouth, coating it in her spit before dragging it through her soaked cunt. In her it went, it met no resistance whatsoever. She had her eyes locked onto her iPad, watching the 15-minute video she had saved.

“ah, fuck bebé! You’re so deep!”

It makes her even wetter when she hears her voice echo through the apartment. She sucks on another finger, cheekily getting a taste of herself from the other that was in her, slipping that back into her dripping hole with a long sigh. She was teasing, building up her pleasure in waves. Feet pressed on the edge of the coffee table, she spread herself wider with a throw pillow propped under her ass. It was a mess, soaked with her syrupy arousal.

“Oh, you like that. Don’t you, you slut?”

She gasped when her finger grazed her spot, her body jolting off the couch in surprise. She grinned at herself, dragging her fingers out of her. She sucked on them, moaning loudly at the pungent taste of herself on her fingers. The video looped itself, starting all over again. After that first time of being filmed, the two of you had curated a little personal stash of sex tapes that were helpful when one or the other was away. Seeing as you had been picked to be on the traveling team to Sweden this week, Ale was left to her own devices. The quickie in bed this morning wasn’t enough for her, she found herself so fucking soaked when she got home from training after you had left for the airport with the team.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well…”

She grabbed the aforementioned cock that was next to her. It was weighty and thick, she knew exactly how this felt inside her, how you felt inside her. She whined, dragging the cock up and down her folds. Suddenly she had an idea. She grabbed her phone and checked the time, grinning happily when she realized that you were probably in the hotel by now. Hoping you had your room to yourself, she searched for your contact and hit the call button. Leaving it on speaker as it rang, she grabbed the cock again and teased the tip into her cunt. It was a little bit of a stretch, one she loved so much.

The call connected, your slightly tired voice reaching her ears. She pushed the cock fully into herself then, her voice stuttering as she answered your call for her.

“Hi baby,” you called, sitting up in bed in your hotel room.  

“A-Are you alone, bonita?” she asked, dragging the dildo in and out of her core achingly slow. The slick sounds weren’t loud, barely able to hear over the phone.

“Yes, I am. Ona is in Lucy and Keira’s room.” Your eyes narrow at her question, leaning back into the middle of your bed.

“Do you maybe want to help your needy girlfriend out? Or would you rather leave her aching and begging for you in her empty apartment?”

“Show me,” you growl, as she switches the call to video on her iPad. The Facetime call shows you in the corner while she watches her chosen sex tape in the back. You groan and throw your head back, leaning forward into the camera. She grabs the end of the dildo and fucks herself with it, whining at the pleasure that surges through her. You’ve texted Ona and told her to stay as long as she wanted to in Lucy’s room, eager to play out Alexia’s fantasies of being a fucking tease from another country.

Alexia squeezes at her breast, moaning louder now. She didn’t slow down her thrusting, dragging the dildo in and out of her faster. Your eyes were hooded, sitting at the desk in the hotel room. She moaned for you, begging for you to let her cum.

“Slow down you slut; being a little fucking whore, aren’t ya Ale? Didn’t I fuck your pretty pussy this morning?”

She slows down the thrusts, looking directly at you in the camera. The video was long forgotten, playing on mute for her to visually enjoy. You were fucking her in the kitchen for this one, pounding into her cunt with vigor and finesse. She hasn’t been able to make breakfast without getting horny since; her thighs rubbing together deliciously when she was making your breakfast this morning despite already having been railed into the mattress just a half hour ago.

“Not enough…” she whined, stilling the cock inside her to flick at her clit. She was so swollen, licking her fingers to rub her nub in soft circles.

“Not enough, huh? What makes you think your behavior today should convince me to let you cum?”

She looks up at you in horror, sitting up a little.

“But-But…”

“Be a good girl and do as I say, I’ll consider it.”

She whines, settling back into the couch awaiting her next orders.

“Take it out.”

“But, bebé–”

“Take. It. Out.” You growl, and she obeys, pulling the dildo out of her with a wet squelch. She looks deep into your eyes, chest heaving slightly.

“Three fingers, around and about. Put them in and I will end this fucking call right now.”

She does as you say, three nimble fingers lazily caressing her slick folds and gaping hole. It winks at you, the tips of her fingers sending shocks through her body. The thrill of you watching her makes her arousal pool beneath her, the pillow under her mentioned earlier could never be used again.

“Slap your clit,” you instruct, voice not even seeming a little affected by her actions. A resoundingly wet slap, followed by a moan rang through the hotel room.

“Give me ten Ale, don’t you dare be gentle,” you huffed at her, voice dropping a little to a deep commanding tone that got Ale to obey so quickly it was concerning.

Unquestioningly, Alexia gives her clit ten hard smacks that resound through the phone. Thank Apple for the great microphones on their devices. She’s shuddering and whining, pussy clenching achingly around nothing.

“Are you close already, Alexia?” you ask, tone utterly unbothered by your girlfriend’s whining. She’s got tears pooling in her eyes, lips bitten as she tries to hold herself together. You’ve moved closer to the screen, eyes fixed on the view of her gaping hole and perked nipples.

“Please bebé…” she begs, tears falling down her cheeks in frustration.

“I asked you a question puta, are you close?” you question again, teeth gnashed down a little. She nods fervently, muttering yeses louder and louder.

“Good. One finger, inside. Now.”

She slips her middle finger into her cunt, cunt so sloppy and loose it barely has resistance. She whimpers softly, biting her other hand to keep her voice down. She adjusts her arm to get her finger in deeper, jolting when she grazes her sweet spot. She looks at you from her eyelashes, your face focused on her and her only. Her heart skipped a beat, her eagerness to obey you doubling.

“Another for me, Ale. You’re being so good, baby girl.”

She slides in a second finger, pumping her middle and ring finger in and out of her pussy faster. You don’t say anything, letting her have a little fun.

“Get your other hand out of your mouth, I want to hear that whore of a voice moan for me.”

She pulls her hand away, reaching back to grip the back of the couch. She gasped and scrunched her face in pleasure, palm grazing over her hypersensitive clit.

“Stop.”

“Huh? Cariño please!”

“Alexia.” Your voice was firm and left her no room for more arguments as she pulled her thick fingers out of her.

“Get the toy.”

She does.

“Suck on it. The least you could do is put on a show for me.”

She bites her lip and cautiously brings the toy to her lips. She licks up it, humming softly when she tastes herself on it. Her pretty lips wrap around the tip as she imagines you at the other end making her take it. She whines, sucking more and more of it into her mouth. You watch intently; she’s making it harder and harder for you to keep your composure and not join her in her pleasure.

She takes it to the base, and a loud gag makes her pull away. She licks up her messy saliva, smiling at you.

“Good girl Ale, my prettiest cocksucker. Always so eager to please.”  

She pants hard, licking her lips slowly patiently awaiting further instruction.

“Go on, put it in. Fuck yourself on my favorite strap. Is that why you picked that one bonita? Because it’s my favorite one to fuck you with?”

“Sí, sí! I love it when you fuck me with this one…”

She ends her sentence and slips the thick toy into her. She sighs, languidly thrusting the dildo in and out of her. she’s extremely hyper-aroused, just a little sensation sends her reeling in for more.

“Fuck, bebé…”

“That feels good, right cariño?”

"¡Muy bien, tu polla se siente tan bien...!"

She was slurring, tongue heavy and head utterly cock-drunk from how long she had been on edge. Her orgasm was fast approaching, fucking herself with the dildo as fast as she could, almost forgetting you were there.

“Alexia,” you call once again, snapping her out of her eagerness to come.

“I didn’t say you could go faster, honey. On your knees, move to the tv.”

She immediately gets on her knees, moving the iPad to face the clear space underneath the TV. She crawls to it, securing the dildo down on the floor.

“Wanna see you ride it, princesa. Exactly how you ride me.” You challenge as she sinks onto the fake cock. Her muscular thighs flex with every bounce, hands grasping her breasts with hard squeezes that make her whine and shudder.

“Good girl, bonita. Such a fucking slut for me aren’t you Alexia?”

“Sí!” she bounces harder, moaning louder than before.

“Who’s slut are you, Alexia?”

The degrading nature of your voice, paired with her full name was doing things to her that she could not explain. She was La Reina, Alexia Putellas. Yet here she was, feeling like a shameless slut as she rode a cock for her lover to watch.

“Yuh-Your slut! I-I’m your slut, Y/N!”

“Cum for me then, mi reina.”

“Fuck!”

She tried to keep riding the cock, hands falling forward to catch herself from falling. It was one of the most intense orgasms of her life, she felt like her entire body was experiencing euphoria. Her legs trembled and quaked with her orgasm, electric shocks coursing through her as she rode out her high. Her eyes saw white for a second, ears ringing so deafeningly she almost missed your voice calling her name with pure adoration.

“Ale? Princesa, please. Are you okay?”

She looked up, throwing her long blonde hair back. she smiled sleepily, licking her lips as she pulled herself off the toy. She scooted back over to the couch, wrapping herself up in a blanket. You smiled, settling back into your bed just as Ona walked back into the room.

“I love you, mi amor. I miss you so much already.”

“I love you too, bebé. Score a goal for me?”

“Of course my love.”

[erindrinkstea]

Please Please Please

Poly! Dark! 141 x Reader

TW: Dark Themes, Spicy Themes, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, Blood, Death.

Description, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

Note: At the moment, I have Reader's codename as Bullet but comment if you want it changed and if you have any ideas?

"How's it looking on your side, Gaz?" Your Captain's voice questioned from the radio. There was a short second of static before the sargeant responded. "It's looking fine on my side, Captain."

Your team was dispersed in the middle of a forest in Sweden. You were looking for a hidden facility somewhere here.

Your task was to find this facility, eliminate the assailants, rescue the hostages, and secure their biological weapons.

"How's everyone's status?" Price asked again after a few moments.

"Haven't found anything yet."

"Not a facility in sight."

"I'm fucking freezing, shite."

You smiled a little, resisting a laugh from Soap's comment. Always a little humor coming from the Scot.

"Bullet?" Hearing your codename being called, you forgot to reply. "Something in the distance but still not sure. I'm closing in to get a better look." You reported.

"I'm heading to your location to have a see as well. Continue with caution, Bullet." Ghost ordered. His gruff voice brought shivers down your spine. It didn't help that you were basically ice in these weather conditions.

Once you were near enough, you could finally confirm that you've found what your team was looking for. "Confirm. I found the facility, waiting for Ghost." You radio in.

"Almost there. Start walking." Ghost commanded and you didn't hesitate as you slowly moved forwards.

The facility was not as big as you thought it would be. Then again, it wasn't so small either.

You stopped before you could walk out into the open, peeking to see a couple of men holding guns patrolling around the area.

"Hostiles, about eight of them around patrolling." You reported.

"Don't initiate. Try to find a way to sneak in without alerting them." Price ordered.

"I see the facility as well now, Captain. I think that's gonna be a little hard seeing as there are a couple cameras as well." Soap sighed.

"I'm with Bullet." You almost jumped, not even noticing that Ghost was already standing behind you.

"How many hostiles in total you think, Ghost?" Gaz asked. "Not that big of a facility. It's not the numbers I'm worried about though." Ghost glared at the building.

"It's the hostages. There were estimated 15 hostages taken." Gaz completed his thoughts.

"If I cause a distraction, think any of you could slip in?" Soap asked. "Bullet. Gaz." That's all Price needed to say as you prepared yourself to quickly sneak inside.

"Ready when you are, Soap." You could hear the grin in Gaz's voice.

"Always am." As soon as those words were said, a fire soon spread through the trees to your opposite side.

"I think you might piss of Mother Nature with all the chaos you often cause. " Ghost commented as you wait for the guards to move away towards the commotion before bolting it towards the facility.

Ghost sniped down a couple of the cameras, taking them all down just as you reached the facility.

"I'm here. I'm going in." You reported. You busted open the door with your gun, shooting down the two unsuspecting hostiles by the front.

Their dead bodies slumped to the floor quietly while you sneaked inside as silent as you could.

It seems that no one was alarmed of what was happening outside seeing as no one had greeted you with weapons yet.

"In as well. Got my eyes on the hostages." Gaz reported back.

"Alright. Hostiles outside have been dealt with. We're moving in as well." Price huffed.

"Some of the hostages are missing. There's only 10 here." Gaz cursed beneath his breath.

"I think I found your missing hostages, Gaz." You were still in your position. Earlier while you scoped around the area, you found a way downstairs and found a closed off underground lab.

The facility was small from the outside but the lab underground was huge. There were a lot of people in coats wandering about with more guards surrounding the area.

It wasn't the number of people that had you frozen in your place though. It was the 5 hostages. You could see them strapped down in operation tables, mouths gagged and wires connected to them. These people in coats would inject something in them every minute and list down whatever in their clipboards.

Those who injected stuff in the hostages wore full on protection gear before going in the room with the hostages. "I think I know where their biological weapons are as well."

These fuckers... They were experimenting on people. They had them strapped down and gagged, treating them like animals.

"Bullet, what do you mean?" Price needed a clarification. More details to the situation.

"They're experimenting on them. They have the hostages tied down, gagged and poked with wires while they shove whatever shit they made down their bloodstream." You cursed, your voice shaking with anger.

The radio went silent for a minute. "Don't do anything reckless. Wait for us." Price ordered.

"I have to do something." You whispered. "She's going to die." You looked frightened as this one hostage, this woman screamed in her place. Her body seized in pain while she cried red. Was that blood? Was she crying blood? "They're going to die if I do nothing."

"He's going to die again." You gasped, struggling to anchor yourself to reality. Suddenly, you weren't in the underground lab anymore. You were in a basement. You were strapped down to a chair. Your sargeant was strapped down to a table. He was blindfolded and gagged but you weren't.

You watched and sobbed as they-

A blur of a body moving past you quickly interrupted your spiraling thoughts. You blinked, turning your head to watch Soap go in, guns blazing as he aimed for the guards.

"Shit- Soap!" Price grumbled at the recklessness of his sargeant. He followed behind him nonetheless. Your lips twitched a small smile, what a Soap thing to do.

You followed behind your Captain as well, holding your gun up as you aimed for hostiles. You smiled as bodies came crashing down the floor with every shot.

"The Hostages." Price yelled, you nodded as you turned your focus to the hostages. You were covered anyways so you don't have to worry about protective gear- still, you grabbed a mask laying in the counter and put it on.

"Hello, sweetheart." You cooed at the woman laying on the table, removing her gag. "Hi. They've been here longer than me. You need to help them first." She hiccuped. She reminded you of your old sargeant.

She reminded you of Cori. Your brave sargeant, always thinking of others first. It's a pity he never made it out alive in that basement. But she will. This woman will and she will not end up like Cori.

You swear it. There will never be another Cori, not under your watch.

You carefully unstrapped her, unhooked the wires and took one of the protective gear hung up on the wall for extra use. "Wear this for me, sweetie?" She nodded, quickly putting them on.

"Think you can help me? I need you to help me release the others, yeah? Have them wear the gear as well." You instructed and she nodded, moving fast to get the others out.

Doing the same for the others, you cooed sweetly at them to calm their nerves and assured them that they'll be safe. That you would make sure they'll make it out here, alive.

"Gaz?" You radio. "Bullet. I haven't heard from Price and Soap. What's happening?" Ghost's voice came out. "I need Gaz to come down here and escort the remaining hostages with the others. Afterwards, once they're all under Gaz's watch, we need your help, Ghost."

You made sure that the hostages were safe behind you, gunning down any hostiles that came near. You wanted to help Price and Soap with the rest of the hostiles but your task right now was to protect the hostages.

You had to wait for Gaz.

"Sargeant. Move the hostages and switch with Ghost. Quick." You ordered and he nodded, following your commands as you ran to help your Captain.

"The guards aren't a big deal with their guns but the coats have their daggers laced. One of the guards have been accidentally stabbed and his body seized on the ground, still alive but in immense pain so keep clear of them." Price informed.

"Got it." You nodded, moving swiftly to gun down the hostiles and dodge the annoying coats. It was a little struggle to fight people who were larger in numbers than you in an enclosed space but you've been through worse.

It didn't take long for the Ghost himself to include himself in the battle. "Took you long enough, Ghostie." Soap teased, taking a moment to do so.

A single fucking second of that moment.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a glint of a blade- too close. It was too close to Soap's shoulder. You couldn't pull him back. You think of your Captain. The woman you called your best friend, your soulmate. You think of how you could have saved her.

You reached out- "Fuck. Ah, that stings." You bitterly laughed as the blade pierced your hand.

You blocked the blade from Soap with your own hand. The jolt of pain was quick- quicker than you thought as you gasped for air.

"You weren't joking, Captain." You wheezed, down on your knees grasping your hand. Sweat pooled down your forehead and you could taste blood on your tongue. The wound on your hand quickly created a pool below you

"Bullet!"

"Focus on the fight, Sargeant. It's not over yet." You swallowed the pain. You dealt with worse. You dealt with worse. You chanted repeatedly to yourself.

It didn't help with the pain. You managed to raise your gun a couple times at least to aim at some of the hostiles.

You dragged yourself to a corner so you wouldn't be too much of a burden on the battle.

At least you were better than the other guy affected by the toxin. You looked over. The guy was unmoving now. "Move away from the body!" You heard one of the hostiles scream as they scramble to get away from the dead guard's corpse while still focusing on the battle.

Your team was a good distance away from the body at least. You watch as one hostile who didn't move away in time suddenly begin to choke as he suffers the same situation you are now.

Ah. So it's infectious once the person infected is dead.

You chuckle bitterly. So you better don't die, not now at least. It would serve more as a problem to your team than help if your corpse infected any of them.

The battle lasted for about half an hour you estimate before your team finally wiped them all out. No matter the number- quantity is nothing to the quality of the 141.

You sighed in relief, body slumping. "I think I'd like to sleep now, men." You sighed out, eyes lidded and face pale. You closed your eyes, conscious long enough to hear collective panicked voices.

One last mission.

[woso-dreamzzz]

World Cup VI

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: It's heartbreaking

It's the worst kind of pain imaginable.

The kind of pain that lodges in a chest, in a throat, in a mind. The kind of pain that radiates throughout a body, weighing on someone, eating away at them until there's nothing left.

Eaten from the inside out.

Until there's nothing left but an empty husk of a person.

To be so close to a dream that will never be reached.

Not now.

Not ever.

It chokes someone from the inside, suffocating them until they can do nothing but accept their fate.

There's not much else to say about it.

The kind of pain that is only really experienced once in a lifetime.

The kind of pain only experienced in extra time of a football match as one last substitute is made.

The board goes up.

"On for number fourteen, number one for Sweden, Harder-Eriksson."

The final of a World Cup.

Sweden, two.

Spain, two.

And the worst person to take penalties against is subbed on.

"No," Talia says as she watches you run on," No, please. Please."

You'd taken a knock in the semifinals against Colombia, a bad one that had you sitting out most of the final.

Selfishly, Talia was glad for it.

The two goals she had scored wouldn't have gone in had you been standing between the sticks.

Had you been on in the beginning, there would have been no extra time.

You are the greatest goalkeeper in the world and you're never out of control in finals.

You thrive under the pressure, under the pressure of the whole world watching your every mood, under the pressure of Magda and Pernille's legacy.

You rise to the occasion every time.

You show why you are so sought after.

Extra time leaks away and the tears already fall as penalties are announced.

Your Sweden team isn't known for their penalty-taking abilities but it hardly matters. All it takes is one penalty to win.

One ball in the back of the net.

You can delay that for as long as you need to.

One goal to win a match.

One goal for a childhood dream to shatter.

One missed save to return to Spain as a World Champion.

But you have never let a penalty passed in your entire career.

Not at Linköping. Not at Arsenal. Not at Barcelona.

Not for Denmark. Not for Sweden.

No penalty has ever escaped you.

The shots are taken in quick succession.

You don't let any pass but neither does Spain's keeper.

The anticipation swells. The tension builds. The camera flashes to fans in the crowd.

To Patri, sitting in the stands with her hands clasped in front of her and a nervous look on her face. Talia has never seen her cousin so shaken before.

She cuts a striking picture against the complete calmness of Magda and Pernille when the camera switches again. They don't look worried in the slightest.

They've always been your biggest supporters, the biggest believers in your ability to do anything you set your mind to. They've seen the talent in you for years.

There is no reason for them to be worried.

Talia takes the ball, the last penalty for Spain.

She steps forward.

You come out of your goal, walking forward towards her until you're face to face.

The conflict is clear on your face.

To anyone else, you look deadly calm. Magda's feature on your face matches your mother's expression in the crowd but Talia can see through it.

The slight furrow of your brow, the downturn of the corner of your mouth. The way that you can't quite meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," You say as she places the ball on the penalty spot.

"I know," Talia replies.

"I am really sorry, my love. I...I didn't want it to end like this."

"Don't be. Go do what you do best."

Talia's dreams of a World Cup slip through her fingers in an instant. She usually shoots right, in the top corner. This time though, she'll shoot left to the bottom.

Pernille sits up in the stands as you back away from Talia, returning to your line.

The stadium holds its breath.

A home World Cup win would mean the world to Sweden. To defeat the hosts would mean the world to Spain.

But you stand in their way.

A formidable force between the sticks with more experience than most your age and an unshakeable spirit that intimidates by just your mere presence on the pitch.

"She's got this," Magda whispers to her, clasping Pernille's hand tight," Even if it is Talia."

The stadium ripples with anticipation, shouts escaping throats as Talia lets the ball fly...

Your familiar red jersey moves, your black gloves reaching out.

Your body crashes to the ground.

A millisecond too late and the ball would have gone in.

Your fingertips manage to brush it away though, forcing it away from your line.

The knock to Spain's confidence is big.

It can be felt all around the stadium and just a box away, Pernille sees Patri bury her head in her hands.

Sweden's last penalty is taken quickly.

Scored even quicker by your captain.

A title defended on home soil. The triumph of Sweden over Spain.

The crowd is electric and Magda pumps her fist into the air, screaming like she'd just won this herself and Pernille hauls herself out of her seat to head down to the barriers with her wife to greet you.

The crowd is nothing compared to the roaring in Talia's ears as that pain settles into her bones and gnaws away at her muscles.

She falls to the floor, breathing in a ragged breath as a childhood dream slips away from her.

"I'm sorry," She can hear over her sobs," My love, I'm so sorry."

Familiar arms wrap around her. A familiar smell filling her senses and she grabs onto a familiar red jersey, pulling at it and forcing herself even closer.

"Go," She says," And celebrate."

"No," You reply, sitting down next to her and guiding her head to your shoulder where she could cry without cameras watching her," I'm staying right here."

"Your mothers-"

"Can wait," You insist," I want to be here. With you."

You've singlehandedly ruined Natalia's dreams. You had dangled a World Cup in her face and snatched it away again.

It was so close.

She was so close to being the first person to ever score a penalty against you.

Mere inches sat between her and the World Cup.

But you'd ruined it. You anticipated her change. You pushed away her penalty.

Last time, you'd scored Sweden's only goal. This year, you'd saved all of Spain's penalties.

You are Sweden's hero. Sweden's golden girl. Sweden's vice-captain and the greatest goalkeeper they've ever produced.

There is no hope of competing against you.

A World Cup won and a World Cup lost.

Magda and Pernille wait by the barrier. Talia can see them, ready to celebrate with you.

But you don't go anywhere.

You just hold her as she cries.

[yeeterthek33per]

Sparklers (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)

A/n Requested. Honestly this one isn't my best work but I just wanted it to be done, so it's not as substantial but I promise I did my best to save it from the clutches of undone WIPs.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff, Kyra being a pest.

-----------------------

When Kyra had first left for Sweden, she'd been adamant that she couldn't leave you behind.

But after many tears, hugs, kisses and persuasion in the form of future travel plans, she left for Hammarby IF, while you stayed with the Melbourne Victory.

Thus, nearly two years later, just a month before the World Cup and one week before the start of camp, a very tired and whiny girlfriend of yours sits on facetime with you, begging you to let her come over to Australia early to spend time with you.

"Babe, c'mon, I'd only be missing one match anyway."

And thus, you subsequently scolding the twenty-one year old.

"Kyra, no. No way. Seriously, play your last match, if I remember rightly, Hammarby haven't offered you a new contract right?"

She huffs, silently fidgeting with her fingers and not making eye contact with you through the camera.

"You need to play the last match, Ky. Be professional about it, please, if not for the club, for me? I want you to be able to get opportunities over there. Take it seriously and you can come see me the moment your last match is over."

She groans, letting her head hit the bed from where she'd been laying stomach down with her phone in front of her.

"Promise me, Ky. Play out the rest of the season. Even if you don't get the league, you've still got a trophy under your belt there, baby."

"Alright."

The look in her eyes as she turns her head away from the camera makes you sigh softly.

"Kyra, promise me you'll stay. I miss you more than anything, but your career comes first. Promise me."

She mumbles back, finally.

"I promise, baby, I promise I'll stay."

You nod in satisfaction, giving the girl a small smile and pressing a kiss to the tips of your fingers before holding them up to your phone as she does the same.

"Goodnight, baby."

"G'night, Ky."

-----------------------

So she does stay.

She plays her heart out in her last match, taking the draw with Piteå before finally getting on her flight to Australia.

She's exhausted from the match, and nearly forgoes showering and changing to switch tickets to an earlier flight.

Instead, she heeds your warnings of not kissing her should she decide to show up at the training centre without at least taking care of herself first.

She's already got her bags packed and ready in her rental to fly to Australia, and just about drags them to the match with her but forgoes it.

The poor aussie just needs to see her girlfriend. To collapse into a warm, fluffy pile of cuddles and-

"Flight 157 to Sydney, Australia, Now boarding."

She sighs and hopes the flight boards quickly, eager to see you.

-----------------------

Everyone was told similar times to be at the centre by, giving them a roughly six hour window to arrive in, given any delays in flights, although that doesn't seem enough knowing international boarding mid year can be dicey.

So you've taken the initiative to be in Brisbane early to avoid the traffic of the day.

It's ripe time at six-thirty in the morning, meaning you're far earlier than all of your teammates, even the one's closer to Brisbane than you are, and thus you have plenty of time to kill and nap in the lobby waiting for your teammates to start arriving at around ten.

Of course, you're startled awake by a slap to the stomach.

Taking a precursory glance at the clock on the wall above the receptionists desk, it's about three and a half hours later.

It's Steph and Caitlin, both of them sporting tired smirks at you.

"Well hello miss."

You just about jump into the arms of your vice-captain, having missed seeing the woman at the last camp due to injury, thus you haven't seen the woman since the games in April against Scotland and England.

"Steph!"

She chuckles, giving you a tight squeeze.

She had taken you under her wing the moment you'd stepped into your first national team camp just four years ago, not long after the World Cup but right before the Covid Pandemic.

She'd been the one to stick with you over facetime while you navigated the league in Australia, and of course, once a sense of normalcy returned and after the Olympic games in Tokyo.

You were often found in her room with her even though you'd all been given the privileges of single rooms.

Now, you tended to spend more time with Kyra, but, if your teammates needed you, it was always one of the two of them that you'd be found with.

"What, and I'm chopped liver, am I?"

You poke your tongue out at the striker, burying yourself back into Steph's arms.

"No, I'm just the favourite."

"Please, you and I both know you're no longer the favourite."

"Shhhh, let me have this, she isn't here yet."

Giggling, you nudge the defender and separate from her.

"I'm in love with the girl, but you're more tolerable, some days."

"Ayy, that's my girl."

She ruffles your sleep mussed hair.

"Hey! Hands off the goods, Catley."

You swat at the older woman, who dodges the tired attempt.

"Yeah, stop bullying my girlfriend, Catley."

Your head shoots up from it's laid back position on the back of the couch to look at the newly appeared brunette, standing across the lobby from you.

"Ky, get that cute butt over here, right now."

At your demand, she drops her stuff and runs over in two seconds flat, nearly tackling you back onto the seating, arms wrapped tightly around your form, nose buried in your neck.

Staying for a moment to just breathe each other in, your hands rub circles into the woman's back, your face buried in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, wincing at the smell of airplane on her.

She pouts when you pull away with a terribly hidden grimace.

"Baby, I love you, but you need a shower."

A soft whine from the midfielder makes you raise a brow at her.

"I just got in, can you blame me?"

There's a teasing smile on your lips as you wrap your arms around her waist.

"Obviously, you were supposed to shower before coming here."

Kyra huffs at that, crossing her arms.

"Love you."

She grumbles in response.

You nudge her, pouting.

"Love you."

Still no response.

You grab her face, turning her head back towards you with a small frown.

"I love you."

When she doesn't respond again, you start peppering her face with kisses and she gives in, grinning at you.

"Alright! Alright! Love you, too."

Satisfied, you give her a small peck, to which she chases you up for a second, a third and then someone clearing their throat beside you interrupts her from a fourth.

"Alright, you two, stop being gross."

It's a grunt from the striker on your left, which earns her a slap to the shoulder.

"Leave them be, Caitlin."

-----------------------

It's your final day off before the full commitment to the World Cup preparations takes precedence over your time in Australia, thus you want to do as much as you can with your girlfriend before your time together, alone, gets limited.

You'd had a few days off to explore the city, but nothing really concrete as you and Kyra had just wandered around the area where the hotel is.

This time, you wanted to plan something for the midfielder, something to last you both the couple weeks of the World Cup, hoping it would tide you both over, knowing it'd be torture not spending time together.

At least when she was in Sweden, you had space to yourselves over facetime.

World Cups are chaotic, and allow little to no time to yourselves, as you've so discovered and been told by the older girls on the team.

So, here you are, calling various different restaurants for reservations tonight, with, unfortunately, no luck.

Instead, managing to sneak away from the girl for an hour or so, you run down to the grocery store, pick up several of her favourite snacks, drinks, and a small surprise that you think she'll love and then rush back to the hotel, getting ready for a night out in one of the cities parks.

She looks at you suspicious when you drag her down, scraggily dressed in hoodies and sweats, to a taxi rather insistently, dragging a completely full duffle bag behind you.

Not that you blame her.

You would be sussed out, too, if she decided to randomly drag you out to a taxi at six on a Saturday night, carrying a nearly ripping at the seams, black duffle bag.

"Sooooo... Where are we goin', babe?"

"You'll see."

You let out a little laugh at the small pout she has on her face, pecking her sweetly on the lips in exchange for the small smile she relents at the sound of your giggle.

When you finally pull up at the park, you're all but dragging the woman across the green grass and to the edge of the waterline where you drop the blanket you'd been carrying down onto the somewhat flat grassed area.

It's lit well enough that when the sun starts to set, it's not ridiculously dark, so you take a little comfort knowing it's not entirely dangerous out, plus the added comfort of the occasional family or couple wandering by on the path just to the left of you by ten feet or so.

You nudge her to sit down next to you, hand settling in hers.

"I wanted us to have a nice little sit down together to just relax and talk and eat and just be stress free for a little while. Just to breathe for the night. Together. It's about to be even more hectic and I've missed you."

You pout softly, leaning into her a little.

She leans over, kissing you fully, hand on your face tugging you in closer.

You're both a little breathless when she let's your face go again.

"I love you, so fucking much."

Giggling, you kiss her once more.

"I love you, too."

Finally, you open up the bag and dump out the contents onto her lap, knowing you're about to have a very excited sugar hyped puppy on your hands after this.

Her eyes sparkle up at you, the grin on her face causing her eyes to crease at the corners.

"Just wait 'til you see what else is in there."

Eyes darting around the small pile, she digs through it to find a pair of packets of sparklers and a small lighter.

She feels giddy, and looks the part, too, her immediate giggle and hug crushing you making your heart just about melt through your body entirely.

It's adorable.

It's cute.

It's oh so Kyra and you feel your heart bursting at the thought that you get to call her yours.

You're dragged out of your train of thought by said woman dragging you to your feet, lighting a sparkler and handing it to you, running around you, both of your giggles and the small handheld fireworks lighting up the night sky and the river before you.

No matter where you are, how far apart they keep you, Kyra will always be your one, you realise.

It's a small, heartbeat skipping thought, but it makes you smile harder and enjoy the moment all the more while you can.

The sparkler she's holding blasts out tiny stars of combusting magnesium, being spread out harmlessly in the air and onto the grass as she runs circles around you.

It goes out within a minute or so, and she's looking over at you with puppy dog eyes.

"Babe, can you get another one out, pretty please? I wanna attack those cheezels soon."

You chuckle, obliging with her demands, a small kiss to your lips as thanks.

She may be a child at heart still, but she's yours.

-----------------------

[oneofthosebells]

Thinking about ordinary.

Particularly in the context of 'Wille will never be able to lead an ordinary/normal life' (true) 'and therefore the ending doesn't work because abdicating doesn't actually solve his problems' (oof...I see where you're coming from but I've got to strongly disagree).

[Yes, I know it's not technically abdication, it's just a convenient shorthand!]

Wille will never be able to lead an ordinary life if by ordinary you mean a life like Simon would have led if they'd never met. He'll always be the son of a monarch, he'll always have been famous since birth, he'll always be ridiculously wealthy and privileged. But would he eventually be able to lead an 'ordinary' life by the standards of any privileged trust fund baby whose parent is a major public figure? Yeah, I think so.

There's a world of difference between being famous/wealthy/privileged but able to choose how to live your life - including the ability to choose a very private life if you want one - and being the literal head of state with absolutely no choice in the matter.

And yeah, I'm thinking about this because of all the footage of Harry and Meghan and their slightly odd pseudo-royal tour on the news. Which isn't a dig at H&M, I have no strong feelings about them one way or the other, but I've seen them used as a stick to beat the YR ending with ('it'll never work, look at Harry and Meghan'!). But Wille and Simon aren't Harry and Meghan.

And I don't just mean because they're fictional and H&M aren't, though actually you know what, that's important - it means that if I want to headcanon they can lead a fairly normal life once Wille's out of the line of succession then I can, nothing's stopping me. But also I cannot see Wilmon ever choosing to stay in the limelight by doing a tell-all Oprah interview, or a book or a podcast or a documentary, and I definitely can't see them doing a semi-royal tour where cameras follow them everywhere and where they sit in chairs(/thrones) and look awkward while people perform traditional dances for them. (Again, no shade! The circumstances and the people are very different, that's my point.)

I could see Wille going into academia or writing books about poetry, or maybe he owns a horse sanctuary and gets Sara to run it, or he co-owns a restaurant with Felice. Or all of the above, why not. He probably can't ever go and get a 'normal' job, but he won't need one - he'd have plenty of money to live on if he's living a fairly humble, non-extravagant lifestyle, and again, he's fictional, I can believe he'd happily do that with Simon if I want to.

Maybe they'd live abroad for a while to escape the attention - because with the best will in the world, the Scandinavian monarchies aren't worldwide famous in the way Diana and her children are, and Wille's video/speech/abdication would be a five minute wonder and probably quickly forgotten outside Sweden.

This is getting longer than I meant it to so I'll leave it there without going into Simon and how he fits into it all, because that's another three thousand words lol. Maybe I'll do a part 2. 😂