#emirates night 1

[steinwayandhissons]

right so i finally have time to sit down and gather my thoughts - today and yesterday were so chaotic and im running on 4 hours of sleep after doing my grade 8 music theory exam today back in london (probably not a good idea in hindsight but oh well) - sorry in advance for the super long post

oh my god this was one of the most surreal, incredible experiences of my life - it was my first ever gig (other than classical music concerts which are a very different experience!) so everything seemed a bit alien (like the waiting times between acts - that shits long af)

first of all, why was the journey 100x more stressful than the exam i had that morning? i hate british trains - a couple of close calls, a cancelled one 😡 but luckily we made it, bought the merch (poster + tshirt - they were extortionate but im a sucker so i let them take my money) and started queuing (also stressful)

we got in and rushed to the front - we were pretty close, but not right at the barrier, had to ask to swap places with some tall people cos im short and waited

finally the mysterines came on, i listen to their music so i knew the songs they played - they were amazing, but the crowd was kinda dead at that point. the hives were also incredible, you could tell they’d been in showbusiness for a while - the crowd interaction and stage presence was crazy and the crowd definitely responded more enthusiastically

then the main course: it was wild as soon as they walked out the crowd went berserk - during the whole concert they were deafening we were all screaming the lyrics and the riffs i could barely hear the monkeys at times, even during the ‘less popular’ songs it was still very loud (although less loud than the popular ones🤨)

a really cute moment in crying lightning after the solo when he mouthed ‘i just made that up’

they played ritz!!!! oh man singing the dadadadadas back to them was unreal, he got really into the instrumental bit, also at the end of the song he swung his guitar like a golf bat

during 4/5 he blew a kiss to the crowd after singing ‘the only time that we stop laughing is to breathe or steal a kiss’ and gestured to jamie like a gentleman who went centre stage for the outro

there was also a little beef going on next to us where a lady and her obnoxious son started pushing people cos they spilled their drinks, but they got reported and left 😬

mardy bum and fluo made me tear up, i was just basking in the feeling that i was there seeing them in person after all this time following the setlists and each of the concerts virtually and I WAS ACTUALLY THERE at one of the shows like the ones i tracked

there was a beautiful piano interlude before high - i think he was singing “im fucking warmed up now” with a little giggle it was very cute also his voice 🙏 ascending to the heavens

perfect sense was PERFECT! he got out the acoustic and me and my sister were both sobbing my heart couldn’t take it - i posted a video where you can definitely hear a sniff and some cry-singing

when the mirrorball came down during mirrorball i literally lifted my hands and praised the gods for whoever was responsible for creating this man and this band, and they kept it for 505 (he did the neck thing!)

oh my god the body paint outro was fucking insane i was literally standing there in awe as they went off

also after they left before the encore i was terrified they weren’t going to play sculptures cos that’s what happened at i think the last gig so me and my sister were literally manifesting and praying and THEY DID!!!! in the video i took you can literally hear me saying holy shit and celebrating (should i post it and do a voice reveal… also if i do post it you can hear me singing along at the beginning it sounds so bad i swear normally i can sing in tune but i literally could not hear myself it was so powerful)

finally dancefloor and r u mine were bangers, crowd went crazy again

it was funny that you could instantly recognise the tiktok fans by the difference between when 505 played vs mirrorball for example. there was also this tall guy who was standing next to us and slowly started migrating in front of us during the course of the show and he was just there didn’t sing along to any songs didn’t put his arms in the air - the contrast between me screaming all the lyrics to pretty visitors (yes that was my time to shine) and him just standing there 🤷‍♀️ like that’s embarrassing at this point could never be me

also regarding the people who didn’t like how they couldn’t sing along because alex slows the tempo this is absolutely fucking false - he plays with the tempo slightly towards the ends of songs or the ends of sections, which was actually very tastefully done but other than that the tempo was very constant - some songs like teddy picker and pretty visitors were actually even faster than their studio versions

also i was on the tube on my way back and overheard this guy say to someone else that he looked younger than alex (he was 43) - this guy was balding, with greying hair and an almighty dad bod and all i remember thinking is ‘not with that hairline you dont’

but oh man all of them were showstopping - matt truly is an agile beast on the drums, jamie’s solos always slapped, nick was perfect as usual - i was sad i couldn’t see him much from the other side but his blue trousers 🥰, of course alex 1000000% delivered, he was so commanding and mesmerising to watch, despite not having the ostentatious and flamboyant stage presence of say the hives - there was just something inwardly spellbinding and otherworldly about him

anyway i was completely knackered (standing tickets are no joke!) and i had to get up in less than 5 hours for my exam - was completely dead 👍 but this was a complete and utter dream, id been so excited for over 8 months to see them in person. anyways i never want to see another human being ever again god there were enough people there to last a lifetime

also a bit of a ps - it was a bit weird travelling into london again today, i was listening to my playlist on spotify with headphones and every time an am song came up, i felt a bit sick to my stomach, but not in a bad way, it was just because i was hit with the feeling that nothing could ever compare to seeing them live, and the revelation of ‘oh shit i saw them play this song yesterday irl’ kind of rattled me and the fact that it’ll be a few or even more years when they release a new album and tour again and ill never be able to witness this again until then when im so much older was crushing…..

now that it’s over -> yay post concert depression

again sorry for the long post 😭 xxx

[nicoscheer]

London, Emirates Stadium night 1 16/06/2023

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There was one like that in Munich as well just instead of the reviews it had the EU (think it actually was just the German ones) venues and dates on it with ‘sold out’ over each and every single one of them

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https://www.instagram.com/p/CtkkGpKoerQ/?igshid=Y2IzZGU1MTFhOQ==

https://www.instagram.com/p/CtkftzWI4bx/?igshid=Y2IzZGU1MTFhOQ==

Via mrjesserose on insta

Nice crowd

https://www.instagram.com/p/CtlvYtktfox/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/p/Ct9GJ5BN0UC/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Do I wanna know ? Resonating through the stadium

Via

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cyoj9pzobgo/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CvH-52XNFPU/?igsh=MzY1NDJmNzMyNQ==

X

https://www.instagram.com/p/CtkTro-NkaG/?igsh=YTVjOHVmd29mdjZm

[alessiasfreckles]

could you do kiss roulette 32 with alessia?

official - alessia russo x reader

32. a kiss while someone watches

------

60,160 people. that's how many people were at the emirates stadium today. it was a sold out game, over 60,000 people there to watch you and your teammates play.

alessia had been nervous. she had told you last night, when the two of you were cuddled up together, trying to go to bed early to get a full night of sleep before the game against man united.

"i hated it, last time," she admitted to you, voice small. "when everyone was booing me. i know it's just a part of the game, but still."

your heart broke for her. "you'll get your chance tomorrow. everyone's going to be cheering so loudly for you, baby."

and they did. the crowd was deafening when she came on as a substitute in the second half, roaring and cheering for her. you were cheering too. you were the second person to be subbed off, coming off as she was coming on, and you reached out and squeezed her hand as you passed each other on the pitch.

you didn't mind that you'd been subbed off and that you weren't going to be able to play together. if anything, you loved watching her play almost more than you loved playing with her, watching the way she'd run after the ball with so much power and focus.

"i really want to score tomorrow," she had said. "i mean, i always want to score, but i think scoring tomorrow would just be really really special, you know?"

that's why you were so frustrated when it wasn't happening for her. she kept trying to get close to the ball, you could see that, but her former team had clearly been given a talking to during half time, and were determined not to let any more goals through. still, you cheered loudly for her whenever you had the opportunity, as did the fans.

when the game ended 3-1, you ran onto the pitch with the rest of your teammates to celebrate. finding alessia quickly and pulling her into a tight hug, you could see that she was disappointed about her lack of goal but happy about the result.

"can i kiss you tomorrow?" she had asked.

"at the game?" you raised your eyebrows. it would be the first time the two of you had kissed in public. your teammates knew about the two of you, but alessia had wanted to keep it private for the time being, knowing how chaotic things would become once you made your relationship public.

"yeah," she nodded. "it's okay if you don't want to, though."

"no, no, i want to!" you quickly insisted.

"okay," she said, smiling. "i might change my mind though, depending on how the game goes. i hope that's okay."

"of course," you'd said.

the two of you hadn't spoken any more about it, focusing on the game itself. you left it up to your girlfriend whether she wanted to kiss you or not, so when she didn't make any moves to do so after the game, you accepted it without question. you smiled as lessi took off her shirt and gave it to a fan, laughing and chatting to your teammates as you all celebrated the 3 points you'd won.

as everyone began milling out of the stadium and off the pitch, you hung back, waiting for your girlfriend, who was still talking to some of her former teammates and colleagues. when she was done, she ran over to you, smiling, and grabbed your hand.

"hi," you said. "ready to head out?"

"almost, just one last thing i have to do," she told you, and pulled you into a kiss, right there, on the pitch. it was a soft, quick kiss, so quick that anyone who wasn't looking when she did it would have missed it. you both knew that at least some people would have seen it though, and the cheers from the fans who were still in the stands confirmed it.

"okay," she said, squeezing your hand. "now i'm ready to go."

[russo-woso]

Our teammates | Amanda Ilestedt

Before the international break, you and your girlfriend, Amanda, hadn't seen each other for just under two months.

You both play for the Swedish National Team but you played for Hammarby whereas Amanda played for Arsenal.

Over the international break, you and Amanda finally got to see each other again.

You felt at home when you with Amanda. You were in your happy place. You finally wore a real smile on your face.

You both played in the matches against Switzerland and Spain in the nations league.

After the unfortunate losses, you and Amanda had to say goodbye to each other.

It was an emotional moment.

You were both used to it, being far from each other, but it was hard. You both knew that when you started dating.

You returned to Sweden, to your normal life.

Waking up, going to training, FaceTiming Amanda at night, and then going to sleep.

It's what your day always consisted of.

Until that changed just a few days after your return from international break.

You currently had no upcoming games due to the winter break, but everyone was to still come to training so you're prepared after the break.

Whilst you were at training, your manager took you aside and took you into his office to talk to you.

And that's why you were currently sat inside of the Emirates stadium in an Arsenal shirt, a shirt you'd soon be playing in.

Your old manager had explained to you during the meeting that Arsenal had put in a record breaking bid for you, a bid that Hammarby accepted.

You were now waiting inside the stadium waiting to watch Arsenal vs Chelsea.

The day prior, you had arrived at the stadium to sign and confirm your new contract.

You hadn't told Amanda you had signed, you were planning on surprising her today at the match.

It had only been a few days yet you felt like you hadn't seen her in weeks.

You couldn't wait to hold her again, to kiss her.

————————

The match had gone in arsenals favour.

With a 4-1 win over Chelsea, you got to experience the atmosphere from a winning emirates stadium.

The fans chanted from kickoff until the final whistle.

It was safe to say that you couldn't wait to play in front of them.

As the team did their lap of the stadium, you caught Stina's eye and a smile appeared on her face.

You watched her run over to Amanda, pointing at wear you sat.

You had decided to sit amongst the fans, front row so you could access the pitch easily when Amanda saw you.

And it's a good job you chose to do that, because the next minute, Amanda was flinging herself over the barrier and clinging onto you.

"Hi, min kärlek." You whispered in her ear as you continued to hug her.

"What are you doing here? You should be training, in Sweden." Amanda asked, confused, as you pressed light kisses on her face.

"I am training. I'm learning all my teammates chants. What's McCabe's one again? We've got McCabe, Katie McCabe..." You tell her and the confusion on her face expands.

"Teammates? Your teammates? Kärlek, do you mean my teammates?" Amanda questioned and rests a hand on your cheeks, rubbing her thumb gently.

"No, I definitely mean mine. Baby, I'm moving to arsenal. I signed my contract yesterday." You revealed and once again, Amanda jumped onto you, tears welling in her eyes.

"This is incredible, Y/N. We can finally be together."

"I know, babe. I can't wait for our new adventure together." You said and put her down, leaning in to place your lips on hers, receiving a loud cheer from your new teammates.

"I love you so much." She told you after you pulled apart.

"I love you too."

"Come onto the pitch, I'll introduce you to our teammates."

[skipper1331]

Who will win? // Merle Frohms

a/n: based off this request!

"Hi" the voice of your girlfriend came whispered through the phone.

"Hey" you mumbled in responds, eyes already heavy after the exhausting day you’ve had. For awhile, no words were exchanged, only soft breathing could be heard. Merle was the one who broke the silence, her voice shaky, "will we be okay?" she asked, fearing your answer.

Tomorrow, Arsenal would face Wolfsburg in a sold out Emirates Stadium - a match that would decide which team would make it to the Champions League final as it was 2-2 on aggregate.

In an instant, you replied, "yes, of course."

Your mind had also been consumed by that thought. Would Merle be mad at you if you won? No matter who wins, what consequences will be there? What if you loose?

"Promise me?"

"I promise"

"Okay" she sighed in relief, "I love you" your cheeks turned hot, her words so full of honesty as the butterflies in your stomach went crazy.

"I love you too" you replied sheepishly, suddenly wide awake.

The keeper and you had met through mutual friends on a holiday trip, your chemistry magical since the very first moment. Yet at first, Merle was shy and reserved towards you, you were the only one she didn‘t know - well, she did know you as you were one of Arsenals greatest defenders but she didn’t know know you yet but that side was gone not even two hours later, the two of you engaged in conversation after conversation. It seemed like your friends weren‘t existing anymore as Merle only had eyes for you and vice versa.

After your trip, Merle couldn’t stop thinking about you, so she texted you, wanting to know if you arrived in London safely. It was just an excuse, although she actually wanted to know if you made it some safely, only she was hoping for another conversation with you in return - maybe one that didn‘t stop. Her prayers had been heard - you started texting nonstop. Soon texts started to turn into calls and your 'friendship' blossomed.

In the winter holidays, you visited Merle, the moment your friendship turned into more as she had kissed you under the mistletoe.

Now, two years later, your relationship was going strong.

-

The two of you continued the phone call for a bit before yet another yawn let your mouth, "my love, it‘s getting late. I‘ll see you tomorrow" the german whispered.

You hummed, eyes already shut as you heard the final "I love you" of the night. With that you drifted off to sleep, thinking about the blonde.

The next day rolled by earlier than you wanted to. You were excited, the emirates was sold out, playing an important match on home soil - you couldn’t be more excited yet you were so scared. What would happen? Your mind was not only occupied with the question what happens between Merle and you but will someone get injured? You feared that every time you stepped on the pitch.

You didn‘t see your girlfriend until the lineups in the tunnel, the girl looking good in her kit.

You shot her a quick smile which she returned with a nod - when Merle was in her game mode, in the zone, nobody could distract her. This match was just as important to her as it was to you. Nobody was allowed to make a mistake otherwise you might loose.

-

Stina opened the score in the 11‘, Jill equalizing in the 41‘ - your former teammate. You knew it was her job to score when she had the opportunity but you weren’t going to lie, it hurt when she did. But also, you were incredibly proud of her - she was your friend after all.

Despite Arsenal and Wolfsburgs chances and effort, the half time score stayed 1-1.

Though that changed when VfL had a corner kick - the one and only Alexandra Popp scoring a header, as usually.

2-1.

You felt frustrated, blaming yourself - should you have been at her side? When you felt a double clap on your back, you were called back to reality. No one was to blame. Popp was an incredible player.

You prayed for an equalizer.

And as if your prayers have been heard, Jen scored with a beauty of a header.

The game continued, Wolfsburgs had their chances as Arsenal had them too. But nothing seemed to work.

After 90+ minutes, the ref blew the whistle.

The score 2-2.

which only meant one thing.

Extra time.

Your nerves were on a high race. What will happen in that extra time? What will not happen? Will there be penalties?

You were, after Kim, the person who took the penalty. Your penalties were always perfectly shot, they always slotted in the goal - the goalie nowhere near. Yet if you had to take a penalty in this game, it would be different.

Merle was in the goal.

Your girlfriend.

The one person who knew you better than anyone.

Huddling together, Jonas gave some strict orders - how to play, how to create space and chances. This wasn’t any club, this was Wolfsburg and they were one of the best german teams - if not the best. You had to be focussed and give 101%.

No mistakes were allowed.

-

You did the biggest mistake.

The teams dream of making it to the final, possibly winning it, was thrown in the bin when Manu passed the ball to you. You don’t know what happened, one second you had the ball and in the next second Jule Brand had it. Despite your effort to get it back, you knew it was too late as she assisted it to Pauline Bremer who slotted it in. Your world seemed to stop spinning.

3-2 in the 119‘

You embarrassed yourself in front of a recorded crowd and because of you the team was about to loose.

-

Nothing mattered anymore.

Arsenal lost.

They lost because you made a mistake - a mistake that decided the game.

Wolfsburg would go to the final in Eindhoven, Arsenal would stay at home. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you covered it up with your jersey while you stood in the middle of the pitch, devastated about the massive loss. Everything fell to deaf ears as you were stuck in your anger and disappointment. You ignored everybody who had approached you until you heard a familiar voice, the voice you loved so deeply.

"Hey" she said.

You didn’t reply.

"You played great" she kept her distance, not knowing if you wanted her to hug you or to leave you alone. She respected either way.

"You‘re glad I fucked up, hm? Secretly, laughing at me"

It took Merle off guard, "what? What are you talking about?" her eyes were wide, brows furrowed.

Indeed, she was happy that her team won but she felt devastated for you, not only because of the loss in general but that you caused it. It will haunt you for a while.

"Oh, don’t act all innocent now! You cannot tell me you didn’t like it, can you? My mistake, Pauline scoring the winning goal… Merle Maschine Frohms, you‘re going to the final. Congratulations" you told her bittersweetly, patting her shoulder before walking away.

The goalkeeper could only watch. Normally, 'Merle Maschine Frohms' was a running gag between the two of you but now it seemed like it was an insult.

"Didn’t go well, I assume?"

-

After the team talk, you fled the scene. You didn’t want to be here anymore. Your expression was stone cold as your jaw was clenched. You went for a quick shower, you couldn’t be bothered to take your time, all you wanted was to go home and watch your comfort movie while eating chocolate or ice cream.

Leaving the stadium felt like a relief, anger and frustration slowly leaving your body as guilt, blame and disappointment made its way up.

You knew what you said to Merle was wrong and that she most likely felt bad for you as you had talked many many times about situations like these - not knowing they would ever happen again.

After the euros final, the topics about winning and losing have been brought up and talked through, even though nervousness and anxiety filled both of your bodies nights before those matches.

You didn’t mean to snap at her, your anger just had controlled your body and not your mind.

And right now, you couldn’t see that. All you could see and feel was disappointment.

You disappointed yourself.

You disappointed your team.

You disappointed every fan in the stadium.

You disappointed everybody.

-

You fell asleep on the couch, eyes puffy, ice cream melted in the bowl as weird tv shows played. Messages from your family and teammates on your phone - no message from Merle. You felt even more disappointed yet understood due to the circumstances.

She didn’t text you nor did you text her. You didn’t know if you should or even wanted to or if she wanted you to.

The days after the match went by awfully slow and very robotic. For your teammates, it seemed like you didn’t realize the loss yet somehow like you realized the loss too much.

But after a week, when the feeling of missing started to hit, disappointment and guilt fading away step by step, you decided to call Merle. You wanted to make things right. It was Merle after all, the girl: who loved you unconditionally, who kissed your wounds, who believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You waited and waited and waited for her to answer until it eventually rang out, she didn’t want to talk to you. Sighing in defeat, you flopped on the couch.

Merle🪄

please call me back

She never responded.

It wasn‘t that she didn’t read it - she did, right after it was sent - yet couldn’t be bothered to answer.

Was this the end?

You checked her instagram - were the pictures with you still up?

They were.

Every time your screen lit up you hoped it would be Merle and each time you got disappointed when you saw that it wasn’t her. What was happening? Why did you have to snap at her?

-

It was two days later when Merle finally decided to call you back. It was in the middle of the night, you were at the verge of falling asleep.

Groggily, you picked up the phone, not even looking at the caller id.

"Hello?"

"Hey"

"Merle" your breath hitched, suddenly wide awake. Nothing mattered anymore, it didn’t matter that it was in the middle of the night or that you had training early in the morning. All you cared about was saving your relationship.

Silence held the line until a small whisper came, "you‘ve hurt me-"

"I know"

"Well, you didn’t insult me but I don’t know, snapping at me? I just wanted to comfort you. You promised me-"

"I promised you we would be okay"

"And we are not"

"I want us to be"

The silence that followed was deafening, you felt like this was the moment.

She will break up with me

"Merle?"

silence.

"I‘m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to snap at you, everything just came crashing down on me and I know this is no excuse. I was just- I don’t- I’m sorry"

silence.

"I love you"

You had already lost hope before "I love you too" came. "I don’t know why I got so upset at you, I had no right to, you had lost and I understood your emotions, but all I wanted was to comfort you. I‘m sorry that I didn’t give you some space or respected your boundaries. I want us to be okay, too, I really do."

"You do?" you asked surprised.

"Of course, I’m so in love with you, you can’t even imagine"

The biggest smile started to make its way on your face, cheeks flushing red, skin tingle.

"I‘ve missed you"

"I missed you so much"

All the built up feelings from the last week, washed away. There was no guilt or anger due to your mistake in the match, there was no sadness and sulking anymore - all there was, was love and happiness.

The two of you started one of your endless conversations, updating what had happened the last days or upcoming events - Merle purposely avoiding the uwcl final. She wanted you there more than anything but now wasn‘t the right time to bring it up.

The next weeks went by fast, you were back to your usual persona, socializing and cracking jokes as you slowly but surely learned to accept that mistakes happen.

Only one and a half weeks left before the final, the goalkeeper decided to bring it up because she really wanted to see you in the stands as her supporter.

Not thinking about her words, she blurted it out while you were in the middle of your sentence, "i want you to be at the final" she said, the kitchen in her flat suddenly super interesting. What felt like an eternity for her was in fact only a few seconds, your answer so supportive and loving, "yes, of course. Leah, Lia and I already have tickets and our flights are booked"

Your girlfriend stayed silent for a moment, "I was afraid you didn’t want to come" she admitted, cheeks turning red out of embarrassment.

"What? Why? I always want to see you play!" you beamed, "you’re in the champions league final, baby!" You pushed the little sting in your heart away, fully focused on Merle. If you couldn’t win the trophy, none other than your girlfriend should win it. You were her number one fan. So, as soon as things were made up with her - you weren’t sure if she wanted you there when things were complicated between the two of you - you texted in the group chat with Leah and Lia that you‘d join them.

"I thought maybe- I don’t know"

"No, baby. I always want to watch you play, always. And I’m so proud of you, you will win that trophy" you exclaimed, your index finger subconsciously drawing hearts on the couch.

"I love you"

The goalkeeper felt so relieved. With you being in the stands there couldn’t go anything wrong. She would not only try to win that trophy but to impress you.

-

"Stop being so jittery" the England captain stated as she rested her hand firmly on your knee to stop it from wobbling.

Already on the way to the stadium you couldn’t shut up about seeing Merle and her team, the atmosphere, FC Barcelona and so on. Somehow you were starstruck and so excited.

"Look! There’s Merle!" you cut the LW‘s off in their conversation, tapping Lia‘s thigh rapidly.

"Yes, we can see her" she chuckled, your eyes shining with hearts. "Isn’t she so pretty" you admired. She looked so stunning in her kit. "You‘re drooling" Leah chipped in, laughing at you when your hand flew to your mouth, checking if there was drool - there wasn‘t.

-

"LET‘S GO!!!" you yelled when Ewa Pajor scored the opening goal in the 3rd minute. Green shirts everywhere in the stadium, cheering for their team as they went in the lead. Lia and Leah watched you with an amused look while they held their facial expressions neutral about the game.

"YES!!!" you cheered even louder when the second goal came flying in from Alex Popp - that women an absolute legend with her incredible headers.

The first half Wolfsburg played phenomenally as they created chances, defended and got two goals.

Yet when the second half started everything went downhill. About 5 minutes into the game Patri equalized. The stadium started to roar, the Wolfsburg players looking helpless.

Though, you had to admit that it was brilliantly played from Barcelona, even though you felt bad for Merle as she conceded two goals within two minutes.

Every minute that went by from then on, the game got more intense and physically. Fouls and cards were called out, every player on the pitch wanting to win.

When Rolfö scored in the 70th, you slumped back in your chair, grumbling about the game. How was Merle supposed to save that? She stood no chance!

You had a feeling that it was the last goal you would see off the game. And it was confirmed around 30+ mins later when the referee blew her whistle.

Devastated, you watched as the players in green collapsed on the floor, all of them crying or at least with tears in their eyes yet your eyes glued on the goalkeeper in blue. She must feel horrible - a feeling you knew better than anyone.

In all honesty, Merle wasn‘t to blame for the loss and neither were her teammates - their performance was great, just not enough in the end.

Like in trance, the german international made her way over to you - she needed your comfort. She needed your hugs, your touch and your love. She just needed you.

"Hey" she mumbled as she stood in front of you, her teammates also near her as you sat in the family and friends section.

"Come here" you opened your arms, the girl hugging you as if her life deepened on it, sobbing in the crook of your neck. You hand cradled her head while the other one rubbed her back in a calming and gentle manner. "I‘m proud of you" you whispered, sweetly kissing her temple before you let cry as long as she needed in your shoulder.

After sweet nothings and a long hug, she stepped back, looking at you with doe eyes, "i‘m sorry I couldn’t win."

Your hands cupped her cheeks as your thumbs wiped away the tears, "I love you" you couldn’t say anything else, it would have been wrong to say 'you played great' even though she was blaming herself for the loss right now. Instead you stood on your tip toes, pressing your lips against her left cheek, then right cheek before finally her mouth which resulted in a little smile. It was a kiss so gentle and tender, healing and caring, loving and promising. But most importantly - it was your kiss.

So, in the end, sadly, neither of you won the trophy but the comfort you had in each other seemed like a win in a loss.

[f1-giuki]

i'm here again. lestappen chussy smut with touch tank by quinnie <3

Caro have I ever asked your hand in marriage? 🥺❤️ FINALLY HERE WITH THE CHUSSY!!! it's been 84 years but I managed to write some chussy action😭 Hope you like this, even if it's long af😭💖 The song choice was amazing and I hope I did it justice!!!!!!!💖💖💖

touch tank - prompt post

-

“Where has Charles gone? This is supposed to be her championship pool party!” George complains, holding his Martini glass tightly in his hands.

Lando rolls his eyes.

“It's her championship party, if she wants to sneak out with someone, it's her right to do so…” Oscar argues.

“That's why we can't see Max!” Carlos snickers, making the others laugh.

“Max? Did she invite Max, of all people? I thought they were mates on track only!” George asks, confused.

“Have you been living under a rock, George?” Oscar asks with a small smile.

“I beg your pardon?” George asks after taking a sip of his drink. Alex, on his side, has to keep a loud laugh from escaping his mouth.

“Mate, they've been dating for the past season, what is wrong with you?” Lando asks, disgusted that he finished his concoction of rum and Capri sun.

“Actually, they're together now, since the competition between them got tighter,” Carlos explains, proudly showcasing his knowledge.

“Since the Tuesday of Brazil, I think, Max asked her before the Sprint,” Oscar points out.

“How the fuck do you know this?” George keeps on asking.

“We have eyes, George…” Alex laughs.

Max and Charles are not far away from the party going on in the garden and adjacent beach of the Dubai villa Charles rented. They're on the roof of the building, where the sunspots are, giggling and sneaking away to have five minutes where they don't have to shake hands, accept congratulations for the championship! and sorry for the championship! or withstand some teasing. Five minutes where they can be freaks in love.

The 2025 season was one for the books, with Charles becoming the first-ever woman to win a Formula 1 world championship and Ferrari winning the title again after 18 years. Italy turned completely red, with people and celebrations filling the streets during the day and fireworks illuminating the night. The dream came true for Charles. Win with Ferrari. Against Max. Her boyfriend. She ticked off every point from her list, except having a moment for herself.

The party on Sunday was crazy and the sex with Max in the bathroom of the club was crazier.

Monday felt like a fever dream littered with soft kisses, with realisation slowly sinking in, as all the journalists left in the Emirates asked her all types of questions. The president of the Italian Republic and the Prince of Monaco also asked her for official events where she could be honoured as a champion by the local institutions.

Tuesday was calmer, in a way. Charles wanted another celebration, with just her friends, so she rented a villa in the morning for the afternoon. Her wish was everybody's command. She's a Ferrari world champion. But the party felt stuffy after a while, and Charles, in her bright red bikini, wanted nothing more than to feel Max's cold lips on her skin, looking at his messy hair and sunburned face, so they disappeared on the rooftop of the villa, where a few sunbeds were waiting for them.

Max doesn't bother closing the door to the rooftop, he's too preoccupied kissing Charles, with her legs wrapped around his waist, and trying not to fall as she keeps rubbing herself on his dick.

Max gently lowers her on the soft towel covering the sunbed and kneels between her legs. Charles Leclerc is a sight to behold, splayed out underneath him, her short and curly hair creating a delicious brown halo around her head. She thinks about all the religious imagery created with her face. If she's the Virgin Mary, then he shall be God. Maybe she shouldn't think about him putting a baby in her. Maybe later.

“No reward for the champion?” She asks, with a sly grin on her lips. The red lipstick she wore has moved all over her lips and on Max's.

Max laughs and rolls his eyes. They can hear laughter coming from two floors down, where the party is still going on. Max blushes a little.

“What? Are you afraid they will find out how good you can eat me out?” Charles asks, slowly undoing the strings of her bikini bottoms on her hips, baring her pussy to him. Shameless. Max loves her too much.

She knows he's salivating at the sight in front of him. He's thirsty, no matter how many times he quenches his thirst at such a source.

She watches him kneel on the ground and pulls her closer to him from her knees. Max feels such a deep hunger inside of him.

Charles moans in anticipation and Max licks a fat stripe over her cunt, making her laugh. The Max show is about to begin.

He leaves kisses all over her pussy, keeping eye contact with Charles. When she throws her head back Max sucks her clit lightly, enjoying how she writhes under him. He starts licking at her folds, savouring and claiming, sucking, as his hands keep her thighs spread. Charles moans and Max laughs, reverberating on her pussy. She fists his short hair, pushing his face closer to her core.

Max moves one hand to her labia, toying with the wetness he finds there as he goes back to her clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. Charles is always so sensitive, so easy for him to take apart. He gently bites her folds and enjoys when she clenches over nothing. He teases her again with kitten licks at her entrance and when she tugs his hair meanly he grins and starts fucking her with his tongue.

Charles moans and the thought of all the people downstairs comes blaring in her brain, making her impossibly wetter. Max, slurping and sucking, is the only one who doesn't make her feel like a maniac. He gets it.

He coats his middle finger in her arousal and starts teasing Charles’ entrance, looking up at her, covered in spit, searching for consent, breaking his rhythm and driving her crazy. She groans and nods and Max slowly replaces his tongue with his finger, moving up to kiss her mons Venus.

As he pumps his finger in and out he places his other hand over her lower belly, claiming the soft skin there. Charles sobs and undoes her bikini bra, playing with her breasts, pinching her nipples and pulling them, moaning louder as Max inserts another finger in her and fucks her.

He looks so good, gentle and devoted, with his baby blue linen shirt open, matching his ice eyes. Charles could come on the spot, thinking just about her lover. So big and safe and brave. She feels like just a girl when she's with him, in the most positive sense. She's just Charles, whether on an F1 track around the world, in an ice cream shop in Italy, or with her tits out in the Emirates afternoon sun. She's not some kind of circus animal with him.

Charles comes, squirting on his face, as he curls his fingers inside her, licking at her cunt and stimulating her clit with his nose.

He licks her clean and she sobs happily. Before it gets to be too much, Max lets her go, sitting next to her. She hugs him from the side and Max holds her with a big and dumb smile, as she inhales his scent, mixed with the salt in the air.

“I love you,” he says, stupidly in love, and she grins, with her forehead against his bicep.

“I love you too,” she says, laughing as Max drags her on his lap, making her sit there gently, lending her back to the sun.

“Oh God, Oscar, mate, you were right! They were fucking on the roof!” George shrieks in the garden, making her and Max laugh.

[beardedmrbean]

The CEO of Telegram was just arrested in a parisian airport for a lack of moderation on his platform. As always, love how proactive my country is when it comes to stifling liberty.

We're just abandoning this over in France then, it had a nice long run as a slogan I guess.

Let's have a look

Pavel Durov, the co-founder and chief executive of the messaging service Telegram, was arrested and detained on Saturday, according to French media reports.

The Paris prosecutor's office told NPR that a statement about the matter will be issued on Monday.

Law enforcement agents reportedly arrested Durov at Le Bourget Airport outside of Paris, where he was arriving on his private jet from Azerbaijan, according to multiple French press reports.

AFP reported that an arrest warrant had been issued for Durov as a result of an investigation into whether he has failed to crack down on illegal activity including drug trafficking, the promotion of terrorism and fraud on Telegram.

The French newspaper Le Monde reported that the probe is examining whether Durov has refused to cooperate with law enforcement over issues including cyberscams and the spread of child pornography on Telegram.

The Russian Embassy in France released a statement saying it had asked French authorities for an explanation for Durov's detention and asked that his rights be protected and consular access be granted.

Durov, a 39-year-old Russian-born billionaire, is a dual citizen of France and the United Arab Emirates, where he runs Telegram, the Dubai-based messaging service with nearly 1 billion global users.

He is considered “Russia’s Mark Zuckerberg” for in 2007 founding VKontakte, Russian for “in touch,” a Facebook copycat site that became the country’s most popular social network.

In 2013, Durov and his brother, Nikolai, launched Telegram. Pavel Durov fled Russia a year later after his refusal to hand over data on Ukrainian users of VK to Russian authorities.

When Telegram first started, cryptocurrency fanatics were quick to embrace it, and the app has since risen to become one of the most popular messaging services in the world. It has emerged as a go-to place for unfiltered updates on the wars in Ukraine and Gaza.

Telegram has a laissez-faire approach to moderating content, which has drawn concern from researchers, who have noted how misinformation, extremism and illicit activity, like drug sales and child pornography, often goes unmoderated.

Some experts have even suspected that Telegram might have links to the Kremlin, which Durov called “inaccurate” in an interview in March with the Financial Times, the first time the reclusive CEO has spoken to the press since 2017.

On Durov’s Instagram, he is often photographed bare-chested, showing off his muscular physique in desert landscapes or posing in infinity pools.

He is regularly seen sporting all-black outfits in an apparent nod to the character Neo from the movie The Matrix.

Content on Telegram ricochets around the web when it is shared to other social networks, where it can often be subject to the content moderation rules of other platforms. But Durov has long championed Telegram as an anything-goes service, with Durov’s supporters hailing him as a free speech hero. ______________________________

Cyberscams are everywhere, got 8 new asks in my inbox since signing out last night and 6 are cyberscams, CP is a different story if that's getting a pass then that's 100% something that needs to be fixed.

I don't use telegram so I don't know what level of moderation if any exists on there, I do know that's one of the ways people get things that normally wouldn't make their way out into the world out there which is good for real information.

[teeswrites]

LN- All roads lead to you

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Masterlist

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Disclaimer: contain smut!!

Chapter 5- Abu Dhabi

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates (GST- UTC/GMT +4).

7:05 PM

As soon as the race ended, Lando turned off the engine of his car and turned on his own engine. There was no time left to congratulate Max or console Lewis. "Lando! Where are you going?" Charlotte shouted running after him "I have to go back to my hotel room" "What?! Why?!" "I must get on a plane in 50 minutes!" "He shouted back "You have what?! Lando, can you please wait for me?" he stopped to wait for her "Thanks" he started walking again "What do you mean by catching a plane?" "I am going to Santorini" "It's the last race you don't need to anticipate holidays" "I do have" "And can I know why?" "If I don't catch this plane, I won't be in Greece till today" "Why do you need to be in Greece that night?" "So she will not sleep with the Italian hot lad" "What?! Who?" "A girl who I used to go out with" "What's about her?" "I can't let her sleep with him" he said taking his racing suit off, she turned her back "She used to be your girlfriend?' "No" "So what do you have to do with her sexual life?" he stopped for a minute "Cause she was supposed to be with me" Charlotte felt his feelings "Lando…" "It's my fault" he continued to dress his regular clothes "She tried to take me out last week and I made up a ridiculous excuse" he finished dressing "Now I have to fix it" She turned to face him "I see that you have feelings for her, but…" he touched her shoulder "no Charlie, I just need to have her. Otherwise, I will drive insane" She took his hand off her shoulder, such a womanizer "... But, I can't let you" "I am going anyway" "Lando!" "Charlotte!" She breathed deeply "Please don't make anything ridiculous" he hugged her "Love you" "Love you too" and he ran to catch his plane.

//

5 and a half hours later

Santorini, Greece:

11:26 PM (EEST- UTC/GMT+3)

She looked bright in that golden party dress, even tho it was just a detail cause that night in Italy when she was wearing a rock band tee and ripped jeans shorts was proof she looked bright in every way.

She had a glass in her hands, probably not beer and definitely not zero alcohol cause she was gigglier than usual. For the first time since he had that idea, he froze, without being able to move his feet. What if it was a mistake? What if he would ruin her night? Nah. He couldn't think like that, it would be ridiculous and he promised Charlotte no ridiculous things. Also, once back to Woking, the lecturing for leaving at the end of the race would be unpleasantly waiting for him. And somehow she invited him, with those daring words 'if you were there'. He wasn't sure if it was an invitation or a challenge but he was about to do it anyway, no matter which was her real intention. Anyhow, he was there and she wouldn't have sex with the Italian model if he was there, right? Right! Or at least he hoped...

Even so, he didn't want to lose it, lose his time, lose his job, make Charlotte lose hers, had emitted tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere for no reason, he needed to be sure it all wasn't going to be in vain. So he decided to call her and see how things went. Actually, he should have called her before catching a plane to Greece, but it was already done, so fuck it.

He took a deep breath, tapped her name on contacts, and clicked on it, waiting anxiously for her to pick. To be fair, looking at her staring hesitantly at her phone, unsure of what she should do, made him even more anxious. But not as anxious as when she decided to pick up. So anxious he remained in silence for a few seconds "Hello?" he cleaned his throat, his voice sounding a bit different from usual "Hey..." "Is everything alright?" "Yeah! I... hum, just need you to do something for me" she sighed "Hi, Lando, how are you? It's nice to talk with you too" he sighed embarrassed, already blushing "Sorry... Hi, beautiful, how are you?" "Too late Lando, what do you need me to do?" "Don't sleep with the guy" she sniffed putting her drink down "Lando..." "Listen to me" she sighed, leaning on the bar counter consenting him the word "Go ahead" "I made a mistake" he continued "I agreed it all was done with you, but I am not a quitter, I am persistent, I work hard and I never stop until I achieve my goal, plus I hate to lose and I won't let you sleep with the other guy" he made a pause to accumulate some guts "I like you. And I want you and if missing all the last race of the year interviews and other stuff to tell you this isn't enough for you, just tell me what's and I will do it" "Did you miss all the interviews just for calling me?" Fuck, Lando! You and your big mouth "Hum... yeah!" "Why? I mean couldn't you just wait till it ended?" "No, I had... I have to know you're not with him when you're supposed to be with me" She chewed her inner cheek "You turned down my invitation the other day!" "I know but…" It has no 'but' she was right. He lost again and put his ass on the line for absolutely nothing, because he didn't have any morals and... she took a deep breath and admitted "You're enough already" Wow! shot-right-in-the-heart. "So why you're being so harsh?" "Because... I saw this movie over and over, and it always has the same end: you guys say those beautiful things, my heart melts, I feel bad for seeing you humiliating yourselves over me and I bend up. And as soon as you have an orgasm, the cursing is over, Guys like you get out of trance and fall back to reality. And guess what? They remember about the girl who is in fact special to them and, damn, I don't like it, fuck! I want to be enough for you as much as you are for me. And not only sexually, do you understand me?" he felt bad for her, it wasn't right to be treated like that and he knew it. Oh, he knew it "Just please don't sleep with him" "I…" " I promise we will talk about it all next time we meet" She took a pause to breathe deeply, he didn't dare to look at her, scared of seeing her expression, how much pain he was causing her " "Okay" she gave up. He smiled "Okay" he repeated softly, she was overwhelmed of course and she wanted to cry, he could tell due to her breath sound, so he aligned his shirt's collar and walked towards her.

Apart from the butterflies throwing a party in his stomach, he felt good and confident. His clothes were nice and he tried as much as he could not think about how screwed he would be if it didn't work, but he remained strong, touching her shoulder softly "Don't cry" he demanded, she turned around confused, taking her phone away from her ear, she couldn't believe "Lando…" "Hi!" he smiled "Hold those tears back, miss" he said calmly ending the phone call and rubbing a tear drop from her face, leaving glitter on his thumb "How... What are you doing here?" "I came here to do it" he pulled her for a hug, a strong, full of feelings hug "I am sorry" he whispered against her skin "You came here to hug me?" he pulled his face back just to look at her, still in shock "Yeah" he affirmed, confident. She smiled "And this" he pulled her to a kiss, an intense kiss, that made her relax for the first time since she started to drink thinking about the McLaren's driver; "Take me out of here" she muttered against his lips "Okay" he took her hand and guided the big mess he made her become away from the bar, away from the crowd, and mainly away from the good looking Italian guy, to where they could be only the two of them, to where she didn't have to hide the amazing person she was and fake to be another one, where she could eat pizza and watch k-dramas in comfortable clothes, where he could sleep like a baby, laid on her full-of-pizza belly after 3 months of zero quality sleep and jet lag effect.

He was so lost in those good memories that he didn't even notice the rushed pace he got, she giggled "Wait, wait, wait" bringing him back to reality "What's wrong?" she took her golden Jimmy Cho high heels off and he noticed how much he liked her small stature, smiling at her "What are you doing?" "Now I can follow your pace" "Sorry" "No, is fine. I love to have my bare feet" he looked at her small, princess feet on the stone stairs 'so adorable' "In this case, you're welcome" she giggled 'Fuck! He was crushed on a freaking smurf' "All good?" "All good" "So let's go" he bounced the stairs down, with her glued on him, tugging them to the hotel elevator, where he kissed her again.

...

In the hotel room, where they ripped off each other's clothes, the moonlight was the only flash of light coming from the half-open window. She had her back laid on the mattress, her hips widely open, knees parted at its extreme, with his athletic body between her thighs, filling her cervix with himself. The sound of "Lan..." she let slip from her lips, without being able to finish, still unsure if due to the cutting hard breath or the sudden electricity sparkling inside her core every time he moved, even for a millimeter, or breathed, or made a sound, or sweated, or looked at her, anything.

She moaned slowly, in a low tone, more like a whine, she wanted to pay more attention to the sounds they made together, the sounds coming from him. Suddenly the forearms on each side of her frame flexed up, his weight concentrated on his palms, his sweaty, still firm tho, hands slid down and had a strong, soft grip on her ribs, lifting half of her body, lowering half of his till he got sit with her on his lap. They didn't need to say it loud out, it felt like a performance they presented too many times already. She started to move her hips, knees working, flexing up and down, hips making circles, rubbing her body up and down his abdomen. Her messy bun tight on the top of her head will get stuck in his mind for the following weeks. He placed a hand on it and undone her hair, throwing the elastic away from the bed, she shook her hair, making it slide down to her neck and shoulders. He looked into his eyes, which have been avoiding during the whole time they were inside that room, and she looked back, regretting instantly, cause his eyes told her earlier about luxury and then were talking about pleasure, both things which shouldn't exist between them in her perception.

She slowed the pace of the riding, forcing him to say or do something. "Faster" he said among the heavy breaths. She dried a few sweat drops on his face "I don't want to" he looked into her eyes again "What do you want, then?" "You to do something about it". Sadic, he thought "Fine" he took himself out of her and turned her hips 180 degrees suddenly, placing her belly on the mattress. He placed one knee on each side of her legs and slightly pressed her body against the sheets, getting inside of her again. The bed muffled her sounds, so he bent forward to ask, low and sexy on her ear "Hands and knees, princess. I want to hear you" She smirked and obeyed his demand, becoming scandalous when he started the thrustings. She didn't need to fake it, she felt it all, out loud, to everyone who wanted to listen, but doing it for him to listen only, that was the important thing, the reason why. He pulled her body up to him, moaning on her ear, thrusting roughly. She placed one hand on his nape and pulled his hair as she felt the explosion before they cum on each other.

...

Later:

They were laid on the bed having pillow talk

"I think you are more than enough" "Really?" "If I didn't why would I come here against my superior's orders at the last race of the year? I could find sex in anyone else but you are the only you" She raised an eyebrow "What about Dubai?" Freaking Katerina "How do you know about it?" "It was all over socials" She was right "Anyway, didn't you hear the 'against my superiors orders' and 'at the end of the calendar' part?" she chuckled "Okay" "You look adorable when you are drunk" "Slightly tipsy" "Slightly tipsy?" "Uhum" "Sure" he muttered caressing her hair "Lewis says that's my automatic answer for when someone asks me if I'm drunk" "You and Lewis are good friends aren't you?" He asked casually "Yeah" she answered indifferently, enjoying the hair caressing "He knows how to value a friendship. Maybe..." she yawned "Maybe I can have the same thoughts about you someday. Except that I don't want to be friends only" he smiled "I know that you will" "I hope..." Then she fell asleep with the soft movements he was making on her hair. And while he watched her calm and soft expression he found himself desperate and anxious. He stopped the caressing slowly, taking a lot of caution for not waking her up. Then he stepped out of the bed to grab his phone and left for the hotel lobby. Wearing his beige shorts, hotel flip-flops, and his unbuttoned white shirt. A few people looked at him on his way to the elevator, whispering and giggling to each other but he didn't care, he was too angst for it.

...

Carlos was sleeping deeply. The snorting denounced him. Nothing could break that majestic oneiric experience. Nothing except his old teammate. He struggled to open his eyes and when he finally did he picked up the phone, angry "Qué putas horas crees que son aquí? (what fucking hours do you think is here?)" "What!? No, Carlos, that's not time for Spanish classes" the Spanish man looked at the clock on his side table "That's right. It's 3 in the morning! It's no time for speaking Spanish or any language at all. It's time for fucking sleeping!" "I know, I know, but..." "What?!" "I am panicking" Carlos sat on his bed, concerned "What happened, bro?" "I... I hit on two girls at the same time" "Two only?" Carlos said indifferent as he was used to that behavior of Lando "Well, it had a few more. But those two especially" "What's new about it?" "I think I have feelings for them both" "Hum, that's new. You are never in love with anyone..." "I haven't said this word!" Carlos continued as he never was interrupted "... And now you are in love with two simultaneously" Lando rolled his eyes "Yeah..." "That's why you are panicking?" "I don't know what to do" "Pick one" "Isn't that simple" "Which of them do you like the most?" "How am I supposed to know?!" "Which of them do you think is more interesting?" "They both are interesting" "The prettiest?" "They both are pretty. And hot" "Which one do you like to spend more time with?" "I don't know! I... Carlos, stop asking questions! I don't know the answers!" "Right. Which of them would you put your hand on fire for?" "None. I choose my hand" "Not literally, stupid. I mean take risks, do stupid things, ruin your career for, I don't know, something like that..." Finally a good question. He knew for which one he had done all of those things already "That one I know the answer" "Do you really?" Carlos asked surprised "Yes. Thanks for your help, man. It was very useful" "You're welcome?" "Have a good night. Bye" "Bye..." Carlos didn't think that he was very useful. In fact, if he was the one receiving the advice he gave to Lando he would only get more confused "Bueno. Ahora puedo volver a mío sueño (Good. Now I can back to my dream)".

...

Lando entered the room trying not to wake her up. He stood there watching the serenity of her sleep. He would kill for sleeping like that. The door didn't wake her up but his loud thoughts did. She opened her eyes slightly before sitting on the bed. She rubbed her eyes, sleepy "What's up?" "I..." He approached the bed sitting at the side next to hers "I had Carlos on the phone" he pointed to his iPhone "At 3am?" "Yeah" "Is everything okay?" He took a deep breath "No" she tried to touch his hand but he retreated "What's wrong?" "I can't go out with you anymore" Her bright faded away, as she was made of sugar and his words were water.  He was ready for her screaming with him and throwing the whole hotel room in his head, but she just chuckled, sarcastic, bitter "Why it doesn't impress me?" "Look... I just can't" "You just can't" She shook her head, turning her back to him "I should have never slept with you" She walked away from him, and he followed "Wait..." "Why? Why did you come till here and look for trouble if you knew it would hurt me? I let it very clear I couldn't handle this right now" "Because I couldn't let you sleep with the good looking Italian!" she hit him with the pillow softly "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? IS THIS A COMPETITION NOW!?" "I haven't said that" "Unfortunately I like you not him, idiot. My life would be a lot easier if I had a crush on Giaro, not on you" and he knew it was true it was written on her wavy eyes "I..."  she waited for him to say something, at least try to fix the chaos he started, but nothing came, he just didn't know what to say. She threw herself on the sofa and covered her face with the pillow "If that's all, please leave my hotel room" "I..." "Just leave now and never talk to me again, yes?" he tried again "Please don't be mad at me" she looked at him "I can't believe you!" "Please..." "Get out!" She got into the bathroom and closed the door. He was about to try to talk with her, say sorry for what he'd done, but a text popped on his phone screen. It wasn't the boss, Charlotte, Carlos, Max, or Daniel, but was her. The other her 

'Missing you'

That was what the text said. He grabbed his stuff from the bedroom floor, his phone and wallet, wore his white Nike airs, and as fast as he got there, he was out. The text was a coincidence only. He had already made up his mind at the hotel lobby. He promised Charlotte not to do stupid things but unfortunately, he let her down "It's better Charlie doesn't find out" he thought.

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Taglist:

@cmleitora

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and to Heal (Part 12)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

"Atla loved her new studio. And that easel you sent me is the perfect height for her- you should come see what she's working on. She's recreating one of the malerier- errors, paintings I mean- off the wall, her mor's favorite landscape. She's got the skyer done, and now she's working on the trees-" 

Martin cuts himself off, setting down his fork and running a hand through his hair. "Sorry… I got carried away didn't I?" Martin smiles to himself, the apples of his cheeks the color of a ripe peach. "I don't mean to make myself the center of conversation. How was your week, solskin?"

Martin's eyes have such a hold on you that you barely register the words. You're finding it easier to get lost in him over the last few weeks- your dates have come few and far between, the last one being five days ago. Even then it was only a stolen moment, with Martin calling you after a late training session to ask if he could take you out for a drive. Of course you'd agreed without question and stayed out well past your usual self-enforced bedtime, but it was worth it. Seeing the Emirates lit up at night and wholly empty isn't a sight you'll soon forget.

"I really don't mind Martin, I love listening to you. Especially when you talk about your family, because you do this thing where your mouth moves faster than your brain and you speak in a jumble of Norwegian and english… it's adorable."

Bashful as ever, Martin ducks his head. That pretty, rueful smile you're quickly falling head over heels for lights up the room. Your stomach flips over itself, and you want nothing more than to lean over the table and kiss him. Only problem is, you can't do that quite yet. 

Despite everything going perfectly, you still haven't had that first kiss yet. You aren't sure if it's Martin being overly cautious or because of your own stumbles- last week, you'd thought Martin was leaning in for a hug like he'd done the last time, and it was only when his lips awkwardly bumped your cheek that you realized he might have had other plans. So really it's more likely to be your fault that he's not bridged that gap quite yet. You haven't stopped kicking yourself for that yet, especially considering how handsome he looks tonight. 

"I guess that's a good thing then, that I'm so bedårende." Martin's calloused palm slides against your upturned one, both resting on the table between you. It's the most prolonged contact you've had with him, and despite promising to move at his pace, you're struggling to contain your need for more. 

But for now, the warmth of Martin's hand will tide you over, at least through the meal. He refuses to let go after you're served, offering you that same shy smile and squeezing your fingers when he takes his first bite. 

You're learning quite quickly that Martin loves physical touch. He loves holding your hand, touching your elbow to guide you, steadying you when you're stepping out of the car. You're not complaining. Each time he touches you, it sends a shock through your system. What you wouldn't do to kiss him… to let everyone in this restaurant know how smitten you are with him. 

Your eyes drift over Martin's chest, the buttons pulling at white fabric and allowing the slightest bit of tanned skin to show through. Your mouth waters at the mere thought of the muscles that lie beneath. How would they ripple under your touch? Would he keep his calm, collected attitude while you explored the valleys of him with your tongue, or would he fold and whine under you? 

Deep in fantasy, you don't notice your fork slip from your hand until it clatters to the china in front of you. Half the restaurant notices as well, including Martin who's expression morphs into concern in a split second. 

"Solskin? Is everything alright?" Martin's question is accompanied by a swipe of his thumb across your knuckles. When you look up at him and nod, he murmurs, "you seem off. If you don't like your food, I'll pay and we can go somewhere else… we can find that chicken you love- what is it? Nuggets, yes?"

You laugh quietly, "how you've lived in England for years and not remembered chicken nuggets is beyond me! But the food is amazing Martin, don't worry." You clasp his hand between both of yours so he understands you're being sincere. "I was just distracted for a second, that's all." 

Martin, having grown quite comfortable around you, slips into his true bantery self with ease. "I know, I'm just that attractive, sorry solskin! You know what though- I'm not sure why I brought you to dinner tonight… I'd much rather be on the sofa at home watching that show you love."

God, that sounds amazing. Curled up against him, maybe letting your fingers drift between those buttons? Yes please. 

"Which one, NCIS? You like that one huh?" Martin tips his head as if to say 'maybe I do, maybe I don't'. He's charming, stealing your heart bit by bit without you realizing until he holds too much to ever recover. "Well then why don't you pay the bill Mr. Ødegaard and we can head back to mine for another episode or two?"

"I think that sounds perfect. In fact," Martin signals to the nearest server, hands them enough cash to cover the tab, then turns to you, "why don't we head out now? No reason staying here."

Dating a footballer has a few perks, but the ease with which Martin splashes cash is one you're still not totally comfortable with. You don't mind the occasional treat, but you hate feeling like you aren't pulling your own weight. Regardless of how much he makes, you were raised that relationships require effort on both ends, and money is one aspect of that. "Could I get the tip at least? I know you hate when I do that, but I also hate letting you do it all!" 

Martin purses his lips. You're worried he might deny you until the little chicken hairs on his head bob with his nod, "Alright, I'll let you leave the tip this time… just leave it on the table though yeah? I wanna get you home as soon as I can!" 

You both blush when the unintentional double meaning of Martin's words dawns on you. Not for the first time, you wonder if it's a blunder due to English being his third language, or on purpose. "Right… okay then, let's head out?" 

Martin drives you home, only letting go of your hand when you unlock your front door. Then he takes your jacket and hangs it on the same hook you always do, third from the left, and puts his own on the one next to it. You cleared that hook after the first time he'd come in, wanting his things as close to yours as possible so the smell of him lingered. Maybe you were hoping that he'd forget a sweatshirt or a jacket there one of these days. You wouldn't admit that if it were your master plan, anyway. 

Once your shoes are off, the two of you take up your usual places on the sofa. You leave the same few inches of space between the two of you as usual, respectful to a fault of Martin's personal bubble. Only this time, after what seems like a lengthy internal debate with himself, he places his hand on your knee. 

Oh. That's new. Definitely a development- a good one at that. You're distinctly aware of each of his fingers, casually spread to encompass as much of your covered knee as possible. You mentally curse yourself for choosing to wear your favorite jeans. If you'd worn that skirt like Jen suggested, he'd have his bare skin on yours… on second thought, it's probably better this way because your mind would be in the gutter otherwise.

Martin sighs, a strenuous, shaky sound, like he can't quite believe what he has just done either. Your pulse roars like the ocean in your ears. Martin hasn't ever breached that little space between you like this. It feels raw, like he's actively fighting his every instinct to keep his hand exactly where it is. You don't want to scare him off, but you also don't want him to struggle alone. You promised to help him, so you do that now by leaning into him until your shoulders are touching. It's just enough reassurance that some of the unease drains from him, allowing him some room to breathe. 

"You're very warm, Mar," you say softly, turning to smile at him when the full heat of his palm engulfs your knee. This is new territory for him, for both of you- it's better to take it slow. 

"Um, thank you? You're very… right temperature. I don't know. But I don't mind it." Martin smiles, your breath hitching in your throat from the mere beauty of him. 

That smile only means you have an excuse to stare at Martin's lips. They're slightly parted, pale pink against his sun kissed skin. You know they're soft- you'd swiped your thumb over them on your ice cream date with him after school one day, when Atla was off with Kieran. Are they that soft when you press your own to them? What does Martin taste like- he doesn't seem like a mint man, he seems more like… cinnamon. Something warm, not something chilly. 

Eventually you tear your eyes from him and force yourself to focus on the screen. For the first episode, you feel Martin glancing at you every few minutes. Halfway through the second, he stares unabashedly, probably thinking he's safe because you've not noticed him yet. But you have, and you let him look because you'd do the same if you were in his shoes. 

Martin's features are exquisitely beautiful. He's not handsome; that word isn't enough to describe his delicate nose, radiant smile or his enthralling eyes. You've read books that describe the love interest as god-like, though that doesn't suit him either. He's not perfect, though who is? You're drawn to that little freckle above his lip, the one he always seems conscious of in photos. His eyelashes aren't long enough to be model-esque, but they're blonde enough to be Martin-esque. He's beautiful because he's not like any other man. Martin is himself, unapologetically so, and that's the most gorgeous thing about him.

But god, his eyes. You turn now to meet his stare to find it e to inspect them closer. Even though you have looked into his eyes what feels like a million times you still find yourself rediscovering new aspects of the depths of them. You lean in without thinking, locked on Martin as studiously as he is on you. 

The glassy blue is shot through with thin streaks of pastel a few shades lighter than the rest of his iris. Off hand, you wonder if this is how the fjords in his homeland look, like clouds reflecting off the water. You swear the pattern shifts and swirls when he blinks, making you feel like you are drowning, unable and unwilling to escape. 

The now familiar tenor of Martin's Norse accent breaks the quiet, "I'd very much like to kiss you now, solskin." 

Martin's words leave his mouth so quietly that you aren't sure if you imagined them. You almost want to laugh- are you so eager that your mind is playing tricks on you now? So sure you are that you've made it up that you don't reply, instead you only smile softly at Martin and wait for him to look away first. It's only when he takes a deep, shuddering breath and starts to pull away that you realize it wasn't your imagination. 

You won't let him slip away again. Your hand snaps out to circle his wrist, keeping his hand on your knee before he can move it away. You want to dive into the pools of his eyes when he looks at you again, curious and confused. 

"Then do it," you blurt out, desperate to keep him there, cheeks on fire. "Kiss me, Mar."

Something in him breaks open. You can see the physical shift, note the confident set of his shoulders that reappears when you affirm you want him as much as he wants you. Martin moves slowly, turning his body towards you. 

"You want me to?"

You nod so sharply he might mistake you for a bobble head. 

Martin's smile is a flash across his face, "Okay. Okay, I will."

Martin's free hand comes up to cup your jaw, angling your face slightly towards his own. He studies you, eyes flitting over your features with all the fervor of a devout man at worship. His thumb brushes your lips and your world stops. Time slows, your surroundings fade, until all that remains is you, Martin, and the faded forest green suede of the sofa beneath you. 

Martin's eyes slide shut and you follow his lead. You take slow, deep breaths and wait. And wait. And wait. 

You promised Martin patience. You promised to give him the time he needs, and now is no different, despite how terribly your bones ache with the need to discover what he tastes like. Instead of squirming you focus on his cologne, the woodsy scent enveloping you like an embrace. You focus on the hand still on your knee, on the way his fingers twitch with the same anticipation you feel seeping into your bones. 

Martin's lips startle you when they finally touch yours. You were right- there's a lingering taste of spice on him that you can't quite name. You smell it rather than taste it, though it's something you'd love to explore in the future when he'll let you.

Unsurprisingly, Martin doesn't try to deepen the kiss; he simply lets his lips linger against yours from the space of a dozen hammering heartbeats before he pulls away, leaving you electrified and tingling. 

Until now, you've always classed the kisses in romance movies as simple cliches. No one kisses a man and falls in love straight away, that simply isn't how the world works. Love at first kiss is simply a fairy tale, something mothers tell their daughters to inspire them to dream for their perfect man. 

But maybe there's a bit of truth in those cheesy films. Because something in you burns white-hot after that one simple kiss, stealing your breath and filling your senses with Martin. Touch, sight, scent, even taste- you flick your tongue over your lips to discover him lingering there, sweet and warm. Everything is Martin. 

"Wow… Mar, I- wow." 

Martin's cheeks turn a furious shade of scarlet, "I'm sorry, I should've waited but I just- I couldn't put it off anymore, not after it's all I've been able to think about for days."

"Oh my god Martin no, please don't apologize." You're quick to reassure him, taking a leap and bringing his knuckles to your mouth to kiss each one. You're spurred on by Martin's heartfelt smile, continuing your trail up his wrist and only stopping just below his watch before you let your joined hands rest on his thigh. "It was the perfect first kiss for us, don't worry about it. Please don't ever apologize for kissing me, okay?"

Once his mind seems to calm down enough to allow him to see the truth in your statement, you lean in for another short kiss. You savor this one as well, though it's only a fraction as long as the one earlier. 

"See," you mumble, still close enough for your lips to brush his, "Perfect. Everything is perfect."

Martin breathes deeply, inhaling your exhale. His hand fidgets with your fingers, his brows slightly scrunched together. That war is surfacing again, his current wants battling his deep-set loyalty. 

“What is it, Mar?” Martin’s expression morphs into something painful. Your heart lurches, stomach sinking to the floor at your feet. A million scenarios run through your head, none of them good when they start with a sour look like that. 

Heart in your throat, you remind yourself to have faith. Martin is navigating the depths of his grief, coming to terms with having someone new fill that space he's held vacant for years. So you do what you promised, waiting again for him to gather his thoughts and speak. 

“You make me quiet,” Martin says with tender, heart-wrenching brittleness. He speaks without thinking, not bothering to fully translate for you, “the uklarhet is gone- I don’t know how to say it but I just… Since Maria died, I haven’t let myself feel anything if it didn’t stem from my team or Atla. I’ve lived for Arsenal and for my daughter, not for myself. But now…”

Martin’s hand comes up to cradle your jaw. He becomes a cartographer then, his touch mapping every inch of your skin with impeccable detail. You let him have this moment, allow him to be as selfish as he pleases. 

Brick by brick, stone by stone, Martin is allowing his walls to come down. He is allowing you inside his heart, and that sort of thing cannot be rushed. 

“Now, when I’m with you, I feel like I’ve come back to myself." Martin's voice cracks slightly and it's all you can do to keep still and not startle him. "Like I can conquer the world.”

This time, when Martin kisses you, he doesn’t stop for several minutes. He clings to you so tightly that you aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. Martin’s tongue sweeps against yours tentatively, searching for boundaries that you are glad to let him cross. You aren’t sure which of you is crying- but the taste of saltwater and spice lingers long after he pulls away to rest his head on your chest, the pair of you promptly falling asleep tangled up like teenagers. 

**********

Monday morning, you swear you're walking on air. You're cheery, above and beyond your normal happy demeanor. Your best friend picks up on your good mood immediately, needling you as she follows you into your classroom after passing you in the hall.

“Come on, just spill the details! I know you’re dying to tell me anyways! We don’t keep secrets, remember?” Jen huffs when you remain stoic, slouching into the beanbag chair opposite your desk. “Save me the trouble of taking you out and getting you drunk. Tell meeeeee!”

You shake your head, typing studiously at your laptop. Your best friend may be right, she will get the details of your latest date out of you one way or another, but you respect Martin far too much to let it go so easily. Besides, you don’t want to taint that precious memory by rehashing it with your friend, no matter how much you love her.

“As I have told you ten times now,” you start, finally meeting Jen’s wide, curious eyes, “I don’t plan on telling anyone the details of why I’m so happy this morning. All you need to know is that my last date with a certain someone went very, very well. And not like that- get your mind out of those nasty thoughts!”

“Ohmygod- you didn’t!” You can see the gears turning in Jen’s head. She draws conclusions from the very little you’ve given her, but you only shake your head. Encouraging her will only get her more excited. For now, it’s best to let your friend concoct her own version of events and run with it.

Admittedly, last night your mind used the same theory to cook up a dream that felt so real, you swear you can still feel Martin’s fingers digging into your hip. God, his lips are so soft…

A hand waves in your face, abruptly recalling you to the present. “Hello! Oh he must have been really good to have you daydreaming right now. Okay fine, Saturday you and I are going out and I’ll get to the bottom of all this-”

“This Saturday? I’m sorry but I can’t- Martin’s invited me to his match, so I’ll be just a touch busy.” You grin when Jen’s jaw hits the floor. As a lifelong Chelsea supporter herself, the betrayal of you dating an Arsenal man hasn’t worn off quite yet. 

“Of course you are- I’m losing you to the Arsenal! I can’t believe this- you go from not knowing a lick about football to attending every one of that boy’s matches-”

“Oi give me some credit! This is only the first one I’m going to alright! He just… He asked so sweetly, I couldn’t say no." Your cheeks heat up when Jen rolls her eyes. "And I’m only sitting in the regular stands. I made him promise he wouldn’t get me a ticket for a box or something ridiculous like that. I just want to be in with the fans, flying under the radar, perfectly unnoticeable.”

The FaceTime call you received from Martin last night was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It came across your screen after eleven pm, though the late hour didn't deter you from answering almost immediately. He had whispered the entire time, using that parental voice one uses when a fussy child has finally gone down to sleep, which is exactly what you assumed happened. He'd seemed exhausted, but nonetheless happy to talk to you about his day. He even kept you on while he brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas- off camera, of course. 

The call was intimate, affording you a rare glimpse of Martin as a father but also Martin as a human. His guard had been down, absolutely no armor to be seen. You loved every second, especially when he held up a jersey and sheepishly asked you to wear it to the Emirates that weekend to come see him play. 

Jen crosses her slender arms over her chest. "You better hope no one recognizes you. But then again… you could always just brush it off as being a fan."

"See! That's what I'm saying. I could just be a regular fan! I mean it's obvious that I'm red blooded- I've got this little Arsenal flag on my desk and everything!" You point to the flag you bought at a corner store just yesterday. It sits tilted out of your pen cup, an impulse purchase to convince yourself that your story holds some truth. 

The wicked grin Jen shoots your way does little to reassure you. "Mmhmm you keep telling yourself that. Regardless…" Jen leans forward and covers your hand with hers. Her eyes become unusually serious, the previous teasing glint vanished. "I'm happy for you. Honestly. I can tell how much you care for Martin. But just be careful, yeah? Don't go giving your heart away before he proves he's worthy of protecting it."

You push back the lump that forms in your throat to nod. You trust Martin. You know in your soul that he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. "I will, I promise. Don't worry about me, I'll be careful. I've had my heart broken enough, I don't think Martin would hurt me."

Jen leans across to wrap you in a fierce hug. It's then that you realize just how lucky you are to call her your best friend- she'd cross deserts and hike through blizzards to protect you. The loyalty the two of you share isn't something that can be bought, only forged in iron over pints of Ben and Jerry's and cheesy rom coms after shitty dates. 

**********

"If I didn't know any better skip, I'd say you were nervous." Aaron inspects his gloves, one eyebrow cocked as he assesses Martin. The English man's eye for emotion is surprisingly unmatched. For as much as he acts like the court jester, Aaron is extremely in tune with his teammates and their emotions. 

"It's only Brighton," Aaron continues with a wave of his hand. "Easy win. With me between the sticks, you'll have nothing to worry about. Just score a goal or two, give us a nice padded lead, and we'll be off to celebrate before you know it."

Losing to a mid table team isn't what muddies Martin's head tonight. Martin sighs, recalling the taste of you for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. When he started this whole thing he hadn't expected to be so distracted by you. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you have started to consume his thoughts. Martin picks his clothes each morning based on what he thinks you'll enjoy seeing in photos. You are the first person he messages each morning and often the last voice he hears at night. And now, when he should be mentally replaying highlight reels from Brighton's recent matches? The reel in his head is of you laughing and smiling, so raw and real that he swears he can feel your hand in his own. 

Upon seeing Martin's blank stare, Aaron laughs. "Oh shit, you are distracted! Mate look, whatever it is, just trust us yeah? We've got your back, we're a team- lead us like you always do, say some pretty words, and we'll take care of the rest."

That's not good enough though. Not this time. Martin needs to impress you. He can't have your very first football match be subpar. He wants to shine and showcase what his team can do. "I want a goal," Martin murmurs as the other lads begin to trickle in. "I want two goals," he reiterates, louder this time to gain the attention of his mates. "I want us up by three at the half, I want Steele gasping for air because of how hard we're shooting at his goal. I want the performance of a lifetime lads, I want everything!"

A resounding cheer rings through their changing room, only growing more deafening when Arteta slips in as well. He only quirks a brow at Martin to silently say, got them this riled up already? To which the norwegian only grins. 

Martin's blood is thrumming set to ignite in his muscles like race fuel in an engine. He's greedy today. With you in attendance, he wants nothing more than to show off. He rarely claims goals for himself- Martin would rather assist and see his lads get the credit- but tonight? No, tonight he will be selfish. Martin wants to pick you out in the crowd when his strike hits the back of the net, wants to feel the adrenaline when the crowd is roaring his name but the only person he has eyes for is you. 

"You'll get that brace mate," Aaron promises with an arm slung over Martin's shoulders. The larger man is careful not to touch the palm of his glove to Martin's kit, not wanting to contaminate either item. "I haven't seen you this hungry in ages."

The rest of their preparations are a blur. Martin briefly remembers saying something inspiring about kissing the badge or something like that. He isn't sure. 

But Martin is sure of this- that pink kit he gave you stands out in a sea of red, ensuring you're incredibly easy to spot behind the bench. He put you as close to the front as he could, wanting you nearest the action and within shouting distance of his seat in case he somehow got subbed off. 

When you lock eyes during the anthem, you turn around to show Martin his name printed across your back. Something primal stirs in his gut- something he's not felt in ages. 

That's my girl, Martin thinks to himself. 

God, what a refreshing thought that is. He doesn't feel any guilt accompanying it either. No pangs of loss taint his mind. One kiss and he's become addicted to you. All he wants to do now is win, to prove he's the worthy object of your affection.  

As determined as he is, it takes Martin only three minutes to score. It's a screamer too, from twenty yards out- how Brighton left him uncovered is beyond him, but he's always excelled at capitalizing on opponents mistakes. When Martin sees the scoreboard change, all he can think about is kissing you- but that will have to wait until after the match. 

Martinelli scores the second goal off a set piece twenty minutes in, and Martin himself nets his brace in added time. In the changing room at half time, he reminds the team not to be complacent. They can't let their guards down and become lazy. Their intensity has to stay high. 

And despite the strict rule Martin has against it, he quickly sneaks a glance at his phone. Your message stands out at the top and fills him with fuzziness: I'm so proud of you!

Oh, Martin is kissing you for sure. The second he lays eyes on you after this, he's getting his winner's kiss. 

Honestly, he scarcely makes it through the second half- Aaron remains bored in the Arsenal goal and Steele looks set to walk off by the end of it. A 5-0 win at home has the crowd rowdy and the team buoyant. Everyone stays after to clap for the fans, and Martin waves and smiles at everyone as he makes his rounds.

You're leaning on the railing when he finally makes it to the bench. His eyes remain locked on yours while you join in on the fans yelling his chant, your pride seeping through the last cracks in his heart and sealing them shut. 

You blow him a kiss, which Martin gladly pretends to catch and tuck to his chest. He doesn't want to go out and celebrate with the lads- he wants to bring you home so he can spend the night with his girls. 

Wanna kiss you, Martin mouths, unsure if you'll understand. You get the gist though, because you shake your head sadly and motion to the full stadium around you. And Martin understands, but that doesn't stop the painful sting that hits him like a slap in the face.  

When he finally makes it to his phone, he sees a message from you. 

Can I celebrate with you tonight? Nothing big! Maybe just a drink? I'm so proud!!

Martin grins, briefly smiling up at his friends as they sing along to their victory playlist. Then he takes a seat in his cubby, drawing one knee up to his chest to rest his hands on to type, of course you can! I was just going to ask if you'd like to come over to hang out with Attie and I?

Aren't you going out with the lads? 

"Oi, Martin! Come on lad- we're going out tonight! A win like that deserves to be celebrated- and it's all thanks to our skipper!" Aaron riles up the boys, coaxing them to shout Martin's name over and over until Martin is forced to shake his head. 

"I'm sorry boys, duty calls. I'm going home to Atla tonight, I promised her I'd bake something if we won-"

A few of the younger players groan, but the older ones, mostly those that are fathers themselves, shoot him understanding smiles. Fatherhood comes first, now that he's done his job as captain tonight. Let them think that's all it is, at least. 

Kieran purses his lips when Martin's gaze snags on his best mate. "Sooo you promised Atla you'd bake huh? That's an interesting way of saying 'I'm going to go snog my girlfriend' but hey, I won't judge. You do you, mate!"

"Leave me alone," Martin grumbles with a distinct lack of malice. "They don't all need to know about that, alright? But yeah… I'm thinking it's time to tell Atla something about all this. Not everything obviously but- I'd like them to be okay seeing each other outside of school, you know?"

"Mmhhmm. Right well good luck with that mate, I'll be getting drunk in your place tonight." Kieran sighs as if that scenario is his worst nightmare instead of his best dream. "The things I do for this team!" 

Martin laughs, already gathering his things to make a speedy exit. He's got places to be, people to see- he won't keep you waiting. He needs his kiss, his body vibrates at the very thought of your lips on his. He craves that electricity, the spark he knows will accompany it. His mind tricks him into thinking he can smell your light floral perfume and the strawberry scent of your shampoo, tickling his nose as if you were feet away.

[cbrownjc]

The first part of my next fanfic in The Forgotten Years series, which I am writing with @faerywhimsy, is now done. Please check it out over on AO3.

Title: Half-Forgotten Dreams

Pairings: Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis (past), Armand/Louis (past), Armand/Daniel/Louis (past), Lestat/Louis (past)

Summary: Though his interview with Louis is now at its end, Daniel continues to regain memories of his past that reveal things he’s not prepared to face.

End of Season Two — Show Canon with Book Canon Elements — Daniel’s POV

ACT I (of II) —  14,443 words — Mature

Warning: This story might contain possible spoilers for the end of Season Two (as it references later books in the series). If that is something you may want to avoid, please wait to read this story later. 

* * *

Excerpt:

Al Shafar Tower, Dubai, United Arab Emirates, June 30, 2022, 1:08 a.m.

“And so now? The only thing before me now is to go on, night after night. Detached. Unchangeable. Empty.” 

Once again, Daniel listened to the recording of the final words spoken by Louis just a few hours before.

After all the drama, twists and turns, and painful remembrances and revelations, Daniel Molloy’s interview with the vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac was now over. Finished. 

Once he had spoken those final words, Louis had quietly risen from his chair in the sitting room and disappeared down a hallway, without so much as another word to Daniel. 

The Vampire Armand, too, had only paused for a few moments after Louis had departed before taking his leave as well, also without a word to Daniel.  

It was late, and Daniel was already way past when he should have already gone to bed. He was feeling drowsy and his Parkinson’s tremors were always worse at night when he was tired and still awake at such an hour. 

However, the fact that the interview was now, officially over, didn’t feel like a relief. Or even some great unfinished accomplishment that he’d finally finished, and could cross off a bucket list. 

No. What Daniel mostly felt about it all, at the moment, was a strange sort of . . . sorrow. 

He didn’t feel celebratory about having uncovered all the hidden truths and obfuscation that had been thrown his way since the moment he walked through the door of the Dubai Penthouse. Usually when catching an interview subject trying to do such things, Daniel took an almost sadistic delight in upending the person in question, trapping them into at least facing the truth — a truth Daniel always made sure he knew as well, with facts on hand to back it up, before he did so — even if they remained loathed to admit that truth to him or themselves.

However, after all the truths that were finally revealed during Louis de Pointe du Lac’s interview, all Daniel felt about it now, was melancholy. 

Daniel Molloy wouldn’t have believed it of himself just two weeks ago but after this interview, with Louis’ final words, Daniel felt himself almost wishing he’d just let Louis hold onto the illusions he’d built around himself about everything that had happened.

Especially regarding Claudia, his never-sister and forever-daughter. Claudia, who had broken Louis’ heart, (maybe even more than Lestat had), and who was now gone forever.      

It was strange how, after everything, Daniel now felt a kind of kinship toward Louis. Even a real sense of trust now. He couldn’t say how or when it had come about, but it was there.  

Louis had never lied to him about things in the beginning with any malicious intent behind it. Once his true memories began to reveal themselves, Louis didn’t try to hide from them anymore. He faced them, despite the utter pain it caused him to do so. 

And Daniel couldn’t help but admire, and have his heart go out to Louis for that.

Which was very much not the same feelings Daniel held toward Louis’ erstwhile vampire companion Armand.

When the full truth about Armand’s role in Claudia’s fate had been revealed — specifically what acts he’d committed in the lead into her final fate — had been revealed, Daniel had listened to it all with the same cold and quiet dispassion Armand had displayed in his telling of it. 

However, underneath that, Daniel had also continued to be confused by the five-centuries-old immortal, just as he had been after both he and Louis had revealed Armand’s true identity to him after the Rashid subterfuge.     

Even before now, Daniel had wondered what Rashid’s true goal and endgame were regarding Louis — regarding all of this.

And now, after the interview was concluded, Daniel still didn’t know.

And not knowing, not having figured it out when he was now at the end of it all, continued to pick at his mind. None of it was helped by the fact that Armand had been playing a major role in all the lost memories Daniel had never known, until now, that he’d even forgotten. Events from after the failed first interview with Louis back in 1973. 

Every time Daniel closed his eyes, it wasn’t only his forever-reoccurring dream he saw behind them now. The reoccurring dream — or more accurately, nightmare —  he’d been having off and on since 2005. 

No. Now, along with that, it would also be some forgotten memory flooding back to him, returning to him, as well.

And he knew they were memories. They always felt more real, more tangible, than his dreams did. 

[ Read on AO3 ]

[steinwayandhissons]

in love with lia metcalfe 🫶🫶🫶

[greendayauthority]

Emirates Stadium, London, England, 1 June 2013

"Best night EVER!" — Billie Joe on Instagram

[kierantierney3]

I have a Ødegaard request 🙋🏻‍♀️ hello, could I have a reader who is Martin's girlfriend who plays for Arsenal women’s team and he and some of the lads from the men’s team go to watch the CL semi at the Emirates, the reader is playing and has a nasty tackle put on her and she tears her ACL and Martin goes into protective bf mode through going to the hospital getting the ACL diagnosis and then try to comfort her because she's going to miss the world cup. Thank you so much <3

Masterlist

Hi first i just want to say thank you for your request and thank you so so so much for the amount of information you added. I don’t know too much about women’s football but i do know a fair bit about Arsenal women. If i have got anything wrong please let me know. Accidentally posted this with it written half way through.

———————

The second leg of the champion league semi final, you were away to Wolfsburg in the first leg where it finished 2-2, so you were excited for the second leg.

Which make it more exciting was that you knew your boyfriend Martin was going to be at the game with a couple of his teammates. You had met Martin when he signed on loan from Real Madrid. You would definitely say it was love at first sight.

You had arrived early at the emirates ready for the game. There was a couple arsenal players missing, Beth, Leah and Viv, which was awful, but you had to keep up the sprint.

You were in the tunnel getting ready for kick off, you were both nervous and excited. You had the chance to make it to a final.

When you were waiting to kick off you make sure to look up at your box to see Martin, Bukayo, William Saliba and Aaron, they were Martin teammates but they were also your friends.

You knew in a game like this you always wanted to get the first goal, which you got a goal from Blackstenius.

It was a tough game, you had tackles flying in. You were just trying to stay on your two feet, which happened for a while until just a bit before half time it went 1-1 and to make it worse you got tackled, you felt pain straight in your leg and felt a popping sound, you knew it was bad straight away. You weren’t sure what it was but you knew you were in pain.

You knew the medics were looking over you, but you were to focused on the pain in your leg. You knew some time had past as you were placed on a stretcher and taken off the pitch.

Your mind went black, the next thing you can remember is waking up in the hospital, you looked over to see Martin sitting on the seat next to your bed.

“Hey” you said not coming out well as you had just came out of a sleep and your throat was very dry “Hey how are you feeling?” he asked “Awful, what happened?” you asked “Well you got a bad tackle, would you like to find out what’s wrong with you?” he asked looking worried, you gave him a nod wanting him to continue “Well you had gotten an acl tear, thankfully you don’t have to get anytime of surgery, they said you just need to focus on your recovery” he paused for a second “It means you will be missing the world cup” he said looking guilty.

You did feel your heart break, you couldn’t believe it, you were looking forward to the world cup, you had gotten the call up and were ready to show the world your skills and now you won’t have that chance.

“I’m sorry love” he said coming down to the same level as you were at, he brushed your hair out your face “It’s ok” you said trying not to be too upset, why get worked up over something you couldn’t help, it had happened and you couldn’t do anything.

“Did we win?” you asked after a couple minutes of silence’s “No i’m sorry it needed 3-2 you guys went to extra time and they won it late on” well your night could get worse apparently “Well my night can get worse” you tried to make a joke of it. “I’m sorry my love, are you comfy? Can i get you anything? Water? Food? Blanket?” you could tell he was in panic mode “Can you cuddle me?” you asked hoping the answer was yes, you looked at his face to see his reaction and saw a little smile come on his fave.

You moved over on the bed to give him some space so he could climb in, which of course he did.

You had to stay in a little longer and Martin stayed by your side for the whole time.

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liked by martinødegaard, leahwilliamsonn and 98,839 others

yourusername Gutted to say that i’m done my acl, it’s hard to take right now but i’m already ready to start my recovery already. Sadly it rules me out the world cup which is heart breaking, it’s hard to take right now and i’m being using the time to focus on my mental health.

I’m part of the girls sadly it wasn’t our time and we will be ready for next year.

Coyg ❤️

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martinødegaard Proud of you ❤️

leahwilliamson Join the club 😭 acl girlies

bukayosaka67 Come back is stronger 🙏🏽

[tnc-n3cl]

List your 10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people!

Saw @pocketseizure's post and thought I'd give this a go!

Teba from LoZ: BotW, HWAoC, and TotK

Red XIII/Nanaki from Final Fantasy VII

Jill Valentine from Resident Evil

Aya Brea from Parasite Eve

Samantha Carter from Stargate SG-1

Alucard from Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

Jadzia Dax from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Kara Thrace/Starbuck Battlestar Galactica

Heather "Cheryl" Mason Silent Hill 3

Emir "Emma" Klamsky Front Mission 3

(These aren't in order of how much I like them, more of them popping into my head. Also there are other characters that I could have easily put in any of these positions since I decided to limit myself to one person per franchise...)

Tagging: @unmaskedcardinal, @zeawesomebirdie, @readwritebeawesome, @critical-birb, @frankiesbugs, @dumpster-lizard, @silvergrovezelda, @anivethia, @coconi, @ghirahimbo

[cynical-tuba]

Hi! I sort of fell in love with that Leo the Toreador ghoul that keeps popping up on my feed because I'm hopelessly browsing VtM content. He looks like he's so done with life, but I also like his design. His hair is very pretty.

Could you tell me more about him? (or point me to where more content resides? I haven't had the time to dig deeper)

Oh wow firstly thank you so much for your ask! This is the first one I've had actually, and super thrilled it's about Leo!

I don't have a master post about him but I suppose now is a good of a time is any so let's go!

(Tw: Abuse mention)

Our Dark Ages game takes place in Oxford England in 1348. The game started in October.

Leo, (Pantaleo) is from Florence, Italy, what is now considered Santo Spirito. He has a love for music, good Tuscan wine, and Italian bread. He and his Domitor along with five other Apprentices traveled to Oxford to escape the Pestilence that was ravaging all of Europe at the time.

MORE BELOW THE CUT!

He came to meet his future Domitor, Dante at an orgy. Leo's best friend Marco told him it would be good money so they both found themselves caught up in this world. Let me note, he was an attendant pouring wine, handing out towels and snacks when he witnessed Dante feed from a vessel. He struck up an interesting conversation and Dante was impressed. Leo kept coming back to him, impressed by his art and personality. Eventually he came to study arts under his wing. He ran away from home and responsibilities to serve this Toreador.

( below Cotarie member 1# Emir Muzaka and Dante having a tiff. Art by @spell-fox )

He is in charge of 5 other artists under Dante all of whom are older than him so it was quite a bit of a march to earn their respect. Marco included. He enjoys painting Lucifer, admiring how he was able to break free from god and slip away from his control. He loves painting flowers as well.

He loves to play the lute and if the metal Genre existed back then he'd be a death screamer. The man carries a lot of stress and it feels like I'm playing a 40 year old man.

(picture by @spell-fox )

Leo in his opinion had a normal life, a normal upbringing but I feel it was hardly anything but. He would be that kind of person to tell a story about his mother drinking all day instead of parenting because it's "funny" and the entire room would go silent, feeling sorry for him.

His Domitor Dante is demanding, flakey and depends on Leo to help him organise, make decisions but Leo also challenges him, having the bravery to tell Dante what he truly thinks about the world. Dante is controlling of him emotionally manipulative. He is abusive at times. All except physically. Leo wants to break free of him by any means and in the Chronicle has been trying to impress Cainites with his bravery, wanting to be embraced into their world by any other means than Dante.

Then there's the second Cotarie member, Emir, (played by @urbanknightart ) the man who followed him around the first night Leo came to Oxford like a lost sheep. Wouldn't you know it he's a Malkavian priest! He "hears the voice of God" as a derangement of his and Leo is doubling down on his views of "god's not real you have free will" perspective. Emir has the power to see visions and can hear god when he touched the cross on his belt.

Emir has adopted the abused and mistreated ghoul, taking care of him, offering him food, insisting Leo hangs out with his own ghoul, Æthelfrid. Emir has protected Leo from a woman giving him a magical drink, wing manned for Leo and the Sheriff (Picture Below), took him on errands so he had an excuse not to go back to his Terrible domitor, and made Leo tell him all about his feelings in the church's confession booth.

Some of my posts have included a Suit of armour. That suit of armour contains a Nosferatu Sheriff named Hengist.

Leo met him when he arrived in Oxford, expressing to him how much be hates England, how it was so cold and he hadn't seen any flowers. The knight kindly pointed him in the direction of a garden where he could see amarth flowers. Leo visited them to paint them and returned the knights gesture by offering him the painting in return. Amarth, as be came to learn later has the meaning of undying love.

They then made love in a closet without Leo ever seeing his face. Leo also let him feed on him, offering his blood, "Dantes blood" to the knight. He accepted.

He offered to teach Leo how to protect himself and did a day of training, taking him to a field of flowers. They discussed the idea of Leo wanting to be embraced, this giving the Nosferatu the courage to carry through with the courtship.

So that's how he started dating the sheriff.

Oh he's also dating the ghoul of Hengist's brother, (The Prince of Oxford, Horsa.)

That's a thing. (both parties are aware of this) This lovely ghoul in mention is an anxiety ridden info dumping nerdy lad named Godwin who was the first NPC that greeted him in the game. They are also very cute. But I've made this post long enough and fear making it go on for ages longer.

I was considering sharing this Chronicle (with the agreement of the story teller and the other player but it does contain adult themes and situations that all three of us have discussed about before hand but I'm noooot sure to be honest maybe some day we will! As we log every session in a synopsis)

[leopoldainter]

Therein lies

The Passage

Leeds VS. Reading aresenal

Leeds takes the game at 1-0.1lo vs reading barbarians

Try Pikermans Pizzas Tandoori Pizza

16:00GMT

A night's worry and contemplation

Then there's the wett, waterlogged, and St. John's Wort.chicuterie

Let's fake a dip shall we groove my dudes

The Diesel Emirates

Meridians and leather works

Ravenclaw

And in a fit of jealousy stole her mother's diadem and absconded to foreign lands hoping to surpass her famed mother

If you know maps take me to this house of desert fog

Viggo:maybe bracket cancer

Guy who always dies: FUCK!

薄はっ幸こうの美び少しょう女じょ

If he's so damn powerful, why does his barrier cost anything?

#612: Lady of Faith

#614: Hunter Spider

Forbidden Memories cards (list · gallery)

#613: Twin-headed Thunder Dragon

GalleryTipsTriviaLoresNames

Japanese 双そう頭とうの雷龍サンダー・ドラゴンBase 双頭の雷龍Base rōmaji Sōtō no RairyūKana そうとうのサンダー・ドラゴンFurigana rōmaji Sōtō no Sandā Doragon

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