#we need to do something about global warming

[jestiamy]

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but Venera's name actually means venus. which, while not seeming overtly necessary information at first glance, actually is something I was losing my mind over yesterday because. the three brightest objects in the sky, in order, are the sun, the moon, and venus.

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

[hope-for-the-planet]

"At the start of the 21st century, it was predicted that continuing carbon emissions would warm the planet by about 4 degrees C by the year 2100. This would be catastrophic [...], but preventing this future seemed impossible. Almost every human activity produced carbon dioxide, mostly because our energy was overwhelmingly supplied by burning fossil fuels [...] to generate electricity, produce heat, and move ourselves around. But the Earth was we knew it was at stake, so people all around the world got to work. This video is about what they did and what a difference they've made."

This was published in February 2025 and I highly recommend giving it a watch. Just since the start of the century, global climate mobilization has already brought the estimated warming from 4 degrees C to 2.7 degrees, and if countries stick to their current legally binding pledges and targets that will likely go down to 2.1 degrees. Each tenth of a degree means a significant, tangible increase in the ecosystem health and overall well being that humanity will experience in the future.

Yes, we need to continue to do this and more, but that is an insane amount of worldwide progress from something that was considered a fringe, "tree-hugger" issue not all that long ago. The public opinion around climate change and the action that is being taken today would've sounded beyond impossible only a decade or two ago and the momentum behind climate action has and continues to build exponentially.

We are making progress. If anyone tells you "no one cares and we aren't doing anything to stop it" they are either lying or misinformed.

[anim-ttrpgs]

something I don’t get about the disability metaphor is that for eureka monsters obviously it harms another person to eat them. the help a disabled person needs doesn’t actively harm or kill another person. Maybe it’s a difference in perspectives that cannot be resolved

(What I’m about to write could potentially sound very fucked up at first so I’m going to need to trust everyone to read the whole thing before forming an opinion.)

Also this message and response references these two posts.

Eureka’s stance on disabled people is that they (including myself writing this) are, or at least can often be, burdens.

Disabled people often require more resources to live than they are able to “give back,” which, in our capitalist and artificial-scarcity-based economy, is just about the worst thing a person can do.

Anti-ableism sentiment often focuses on the idea that “disabled people aren’t burdens, that they’re just as good and capable as everyone else,” but if they were, they wouldn’t be “disabled” would they? When you say stuff like that, you’re conceding that a person’s worth is determined by how capable they are at doing work, and then having to bend over backwards to justify thinking that a person without arms is just as valuable as a person with arms. Eureka is asking you to decouple a person’s value from how much net resources they can produce.

Often times also, the resources that real disabled people consume are human resources, and those human resources are very much capable of suffering for it. Nurses are overworked, around-the-clock care is absolutely physically and mentally exhausting, people who have to care for their elderly or otherwise disabled relatives on top of their regular jobs don’t get to have social lives or hobbies, etc.

To this end, we wrote the monsters in Eureka to be unquestionably people who “cause damage” to society by literally eating up human resources, because they have to to live, they have no other choice unless they want to just die. Your friend is gone from your life because he has to spend all his free time caring for his comatose wife after a freak car accident. Your friend is gone from your life because a vampire randomly ate him. Providing a metaphor isn't all the monsters are doing, they just work well through that lens.

And then Eureka forces you to look at these people as people, and make up your mind as to whether they have value and a right to prologue their own existence. We can’t force you to agree that they do, but if you think they don’t, then you’ll have to make that argument looking at an intelligent person with a life rather than a pure hypothetical or statistics on a chart.

There are some monsters in Eureka where, if the economy or societal structures were changed, they would stop being such severe drains on resources and could exist harmlessly within society, and there are some monsters where no imaginable amount of societal change would solve the problems they cause. This is true of disabled people IRL as well. Some of them would require no further assistance with living if certain things about society changed, and others would still require a massive amount of human resources.

And even when it’s not necessarily human resources, the extra resources that disabled people need also cause huge energy expenditure and create huge amounts of plastic waste, which are things that contribute to global warming and pollution, which do have significant harmful effects on everyone’s lives. Despite this, they are still “worth it” to keep around.

As for actively causing harm, that happens too. I randomly scrolled past this post after we got this message and saved it so I could link it here.

This person and their family had to cause a big stink in a restaurant just to get an accommodation that they needed, and to us reading it from their perspective, we’re obviously on their side, but I can assure you that the overworked staff at that restaurant didn’t see it that way. They saw the disabled person as an aggressive Karen whom they would never in a million years want to have to provide customer service to. The disabled person & family had to get aggressive, and ruin the staff’s day, to get what they needed. That’s actively causing harm - harm we all agreed was justified to cause - but harm nonetheless.

Plastic straws aren’t that big of a deal for global pollution, but even if they were, the point is that this person still would have needed a straw. It doesn’t line up one-to-one, because metaphors rarely do, but a vampire asking if they can drink someone’s blood, and being told No, may find themselves in much the same position. (And if you bring up that some people find vampires really sexy, you’re missing the point. “I would give them a straw if they had sex with me.” is not actually a great thing to announce about yourself.)

I can also come up with an example from my own life. I personally am very sensitive to noise and noise pollution. If there’s music playing at a public space, I usually can’t handle it. (Earplugs don’t work for other reasons I won’t get into - plus, if I just deafen myself to all sound, how can I socialize with anyone in this public space?)

If I want to exist in this space, I will have to actively cause harm to everyone there, or else stop existing in that space. I will have to go up to whoever is responsible and ask them to turn off the music, actively taking it away from everyone else who was enjoying it. I have to take action to ruin their good time if I want to exist in that space at all, and they might, very understandably, be pissed off at me for doing that. Because, like I said in this other post, the people that monsters eat do have a right to prevent themselves from being eaten by monsters. We aren't proposing that the solution is everyone has to line up to be mauled to death by monsters or else they're a bad person.

Who has a greater right to enjoy themselves in that space? That’s the kind of question that Eureka poses, and makes you consider both sides as human being rather than denoting one as just an ontologically evil villain to be destroyed.

We actually don't know of perfect solutions to all the problems presented by the existance of monsters in Eureka, we just know that "exterminate all people who are parasites and burdens to society" ain't it.

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you please; what is your Tolberone theory of knowledge?

My theory, which I thought up a few weeks ago while sick with covid, is that all knowledge is a form of art, and that there are very broadly three basic types of knowledge arts: physical arts, philosophical arts, and scientific arts, and that pretty much all academic, artistic and practical disciplines exist somewhere in that triangle spectrum.

Physical arts are knowledges of how to actually, physically do things. The purest front of physical arts are things like dance and navigation.

Scientific arts are knowledges of things that can be tested and proven. Computer programming and Quilting are both scientific arts: they work, or they don't.

Philosophical Arts are knowledges of things which while not objectively provable, are still very real. History and Being A Good Listener are philosophical arts.

Nearly every discipline of knowledge is some combination of all three. Cooking is largely applied chemistry, a scientific art, but it's also a philosophical art because flavor is extremely cultural and contextual, and a physical art because you have to know how to hold the damn knife and heat when it's done.

The first part of toblerone theory is that, like how each piece has three sides, any given project needs at least one person who has a good grasp of each of the underlying arts involved or it's going to go sideways at best. For example:

Physical and Scientific arts, no philosophy: Jurassic Park. They need someone to point out that, while very possible, it's not necessarily a good idea.

Philosophy and Science, no physical: that dril tweet about the forum debate locked by a mod after 12,000 pages of heated debate. They need someone to drag them away from the keyboard and actually do something.

Philosophy and Physical, no science: that cult in midsommar that put a guy in a bearsuit. Without the ability to engage measurably with the world, they give into fear and behave like reactive animals. Also the "rare chicken steak" phenomenon.

You can have differing ratios of each type- Jurassic Park really only needed two philosophers: one animal behaviorist and an OSHA inspector, and 98% of the issues would have been avoided- but you do need at least ONE of each underlying art to check each other's work.

The second part of toblerone theory is that, like how the toblerone is made of many triangle pieces, there are poles to the triangle spectrum. Practical vs Esoteric arts. Short term and long term arts. High stakes vs for funsies arts.

While you have have different ratios and levels of expertise in each of the arts, you do all need them to be on the same piece of the bar, or they won't take each other seriously. A UN Diplomat and a climate scientist aren't going to take the advice of physical artist my uncle Bobby the plumber re: global warming, but they will take the advice of physical artist my Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer, a world expert in getting shit done.

The same applies for the other end of the spectrum. Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer isn't going to get much milage with the local high school student council and principal Waley when the problem at hand is "what are we going to do for this year's prom theme?"

I gotta go to therapy now, pictures later.

[ceesimz]

Wings (part two)

You return to the Norway National Team. (autistic!reader)

Part One of this little story is here, rest of the Reverie stories are here. @pickledwoso definitely saved this fic with their absolutely tremendous mind, so thank you millions once again <3 and i hope everyone's enjoyed these two chapters, thanks for reading :)

You were flying in training. Spectacularly so. 

The football side of it, you hadn’t been concerned about. Football had been your thing all your life, you knew you were good at it and you never shied away from admitting that. 

There was something different this time around, however. Maybe it was the combination of finally being accepted, of feeling happy in all aspects of your life, of having an incredible support system, of finally being nothing but your complete self. You entered the pitch every day, ready to play your heart out to make damn sure you would make it into the squad for the game that was only three days away. Then you stepped off the pitch, knowing full well you left everything you had out there. 

You felt fulfilled. For the first time in… well, honestly? Forever. It was the first time you felt fulfilled. Like, you had achieved all you set out for.

Well, all but one thing.

“Hi, come in! Thanks for dropping by.” 

A conversation with Gemma and her coaching staff was very much needed.

You stepped into her office, which was coolly lit and welcoming. No harsh lights, no unimpressed stares, no judgement. You took a seat across from her, where she sat down in her chair and fixed you with a warm smile. No intimidation, no animosity, no false promises. 

“So, firstly, I must say how happy I am to be having this conversation right now.” She began, and you smiled in slight embarrassment, which she noticed. “And I know you don’t want me to linger on that too long, so we will move on. I just had to let you know.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at her. No discomfort, no anxiety, no fear. Just… nervous excitement.

“I have some things to discuss, entirely at your will. It’s all up to you, alright? There’s no pressure from me.” You nodded, having to disguise a smile at how different this conversation was compared to ones you’d had in the past.

For a couple minutes, you two spent the time catching up together. She checked in with you, asking if there was anything else you needed from her support wise, how you were enjoying your time back. It was all very positive, and motivating. No masking, no resentment, no exclusion. Then the topic you were waiting for came up, and even in the moment when she was talking, you found yourself imagining the joy in Alexia and Ingrid’s voice when you told them the good news that was about to come.

“Now, onto the game coming up. There’s a few ideas me and the staff have been throwing around for the lineup, most of which revolve around you. But we’re not making anything concrete until I know how you feel because I know how big this is for you.” God she was torturing you by delaying it. Just say it. “So, what would you prefer? Do you want to be in the starting lineup? Or come off as a sub? Because we believe you are more than good enough to start from the first whistle. Your performance has been outstanding, both here and at Barcelona, we’re really happy to see it and want you out there. But again, we don’t want to put any pressure on you, I mean you don’t have to play at all if you don’t want to. It’s completely your choice, and I swear by that. You have my word.”

The second you heard that question, you tuned out; your mind was in uproar, for all the right reasons this time. You made it.

“I want to start.” You answered definitively. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in your mind that this was what you wanted.

Walking out for your country again. Establishing yourself to the rest of the world. Showing off on a global stage. Making it clear that your disability did not stop you from achieving everything you set out for. 

Maybe you’d win the next two World Cups, maybe you’d win nothing with the team. That wasn’t your goal, which to some might seem pointless to come back if you didn’t care for winning. For now, your goal was to wear the Norwegian crest with pride and purpose, to do it all for your country. Finally you had the chance, and the second you start rushing into things and getting ahead of yourself is when things go downhill, and you weren’t letting this opportunity and achievement get away from you again.

“Excellent, that’s that then! You’re in.” 

You were in.

You walked out of that office with your head held high. When you got back to one of the rooms hired for downtime, where Ingrid was sat nervously waiting and not really concentrating on the conversations around her, you paused at the door. You glanced around at your teammates and looked at their faces, some new, some old, and you wanted to tell every single one of them. Not just Ingrid. 

Well, Ingrid first, of course. But telling the rest of them afterwards almost sounded just as appealing. 

Then, there was Alexia, who knew you had the meeting that day and sat by her phone the whole time waiting for any sign of life from you, her knee bouncing endlessly as she did so and annoying everybody around her. And when you got a moment to breathe away from the giddy excitement of your fellow national team players, you stepped out to call her. You weren’t expecting her to cry, per say, but it was a welcome surprise to hear her overjoyed laughter turn into quiet sniffles in the span of two seconds.

Nevertheless, that joy had its limits; when you woke up on the day of the game, you were a mess. 

You woke up, rolled out of bed, got yourself ready for the day on autopilot, like you were watching yourself from above. You weren’t in control of anything, not your body or your mind, merely a passenger. In survival mode, almost, to get you through the day. Down at breakfast, not even Heidi’s company could lighten you up. You pushed your food around your plate, taking a bite here and there but not paying attention to anyone or anything, apart from the anxiety balled tight in your chest. 

At the briefing afterwards, you couldn’t take in a word anyone said even if your life depended on it. All you heard was doubts. From yourself, wondering if this was the stupidest thing you’d ever done or if you deserved it. From others, those praying on you to fail because someone with a disorder like yours wasn’t meant for success. From ex-staff members, the same ones that mocked and taunted you at the lowest point of your life. 

The minute the briefing was over, you were up and out of there. Despite the little food you’d eaten, it felt like the contents of your stomach were threatening to come up any second. You rushed to the bathrooms of the hotel, heading over to the sinks and letting the cool marble counter cool your sweaty palms where you gripped the edge under your hands. 

Bleach and posh hand soap mixed to make a harsh, acrid scent that made your head spin. The aircon above was so loud it felt as if it was making its own attack against your ear drums. Lights casting down on you with a laser-like sharpness that stabbed your eyeballs like daggers. 

And in the mirror, you saw a reflection that ashamed you.

How, when you'd spent so long getting back to the national team, had you let yourself get like this. Why were you so worked up? This was something you had worked tirelessly for, now you weren't sure you could do it. So what was the point of everything that you'd done over the last few months, the last few years even?

You’re making things harder for everyone.

If you really wanted to be here, you’d just get on with it.

You’re turning this into a much bigger deal than it is.

Life isn’t fair sometimes, you don’t always get what you want and you need to realise that.

You’re just looking for attention. 

Maybe you weren’t made for the real world.

All these phrases bounced around your head uncontrollably to humble you and put you in your place, their sole purpose being to throw you off track and derail every bit of progress you’d made to get there. It was cruel, but you were used to it. However, that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. If anything it just made you feel worse, because if you were used to it, why couldn’t you stop it? Why couldn’t you tune out and not listen to it? Maybe you weren’t made for the real world after all.

“Oh, sorry, we didn’t know you were in here.”

Frida and Caro stepped in in the midst of your panic. You jumped, not expecting anyone to come in even though it was a public bathroom of a giant hotel, and cleared your throat whilst hastily blinking away the burning sensation of building tears, giving the pair of them a tight-lipped smile. 

“Are you okay?” Caro asked, a furrow to her brow that conveyed her growing concern.

“Mhm.” You nodded and tried to hide your hastened breathing. Frida noticed it instantly. 

“It’s alright if you aren’t. We can leave if you would like to be on your own. Or we can get Ingrid or somebody for you.” She spoke in the softest voice you’d ever heard someone speak. 

“No, you can stay. Thank you.” Both of them heard the tremble to your voice but feigned obliviousness to save you the awkwardness. Not that they didn’t want to help, couldn’t be further from the truth.

“What’s the matter? Is it something we could help with?” Caro leaned casually against the wall, her hands in her pockets as she dropped the question with as little pressure for a response as possible. Frida couldn’t help the worry written across her face but for once it didn’t cause you to cower under the attention.

“The game, I’m just anxious. There is… a lot going on in my mind.” You admitted, not exactly expecting yourself to be so open and honest with them but not regretting it either.

“That’s understandable, it’s been a while and a lot has happened.” Frida reassured you, taking a couple steps closer with a comforting smile on her face. You sighed and turned to lean back against the counter, running your hands over your face and rubbing your eyes.“Are you worried about how you will play? Or how you might handle it? Anything like that?”

“I…” You blew out a deep breath, glancing between the two and noting the welcoming and focused looks on their faces. They were genuinely there to help you, they had no other agenda. Not that you believed they did, you just didn’t have a good track record with past players and staff members. These two, however, were the complete polar opposites of those from the past. “I have some bad memories that are trying to put me off. I know I can play well if I don’t let my anxiety get me to but it’s not working right now. I have a lot of impostor syndrome, basically.”

You described it lightly, barely grazing the surface of your true feelings. The pair of them shared a glance, before Caro shook her head with a smile and headed over to you.

“We are so lucky to have you back, you know? If there’s anyone that belongs in this team, it’s definitely you.” She smirked, standing beside Frida with her arms crossed over chest, exuding a non-faltering belief in you that was hard to argue against. “And if there is anyone here that knows how excellent you are, it is me. How many assists do I have for you at Barça? You’re single-handedly putting me in the running for the Ballon d’OR.”

Hm. That was kinda true.

“Everybody is here for you. You can leave the pitch anytime you want. Or if you line up in the tunnel and decide you don’t want to play, you don’t have to. Whatever you need. But you can do this. We all believe in you, we’re all cheering you on. We’re all by your side no matter what.” The blonde was wise beyond her years each time she spoke, and in an instant you knew she was someone you could trust indefinitely. She didn’t know much about what happened in the past, she wasn’t around for much of it and you kept it under wraps away from anyone else anyway. Yet, she seemed to understand regardless, without having to know or asking you to explain. “You came here to paint over those bad memories. Don’t let them drag you back down, okay? You made it this far, you are more than capable of getting on that pitch and putting on a five-star performance. You have to believe in yourself, that is all. By being here, you’re halfway there, so all that is left to do is get to the stadium, put your shirt on with your name and the badge, and play.” 

Being there, listening to what they had to say, made it nearly impossible to recognise why you were in such a state only a couple minutes earlier. Hearing what Frida had to say, Caro too, it was different to if it was Ingrid in front of you. Not that Ingrid wouldn’t have helped, of course she would have, but having two people that had no obligations tied to you at that point was odd. Odd and borderline fucking euphoric.

It gave you a different perspective, gave you the chance to look at yourself from another viewpoint rather than that of just your girlfriend and best friend over and over again. Two people that didn’t know you very well yet still thought the world of you. How strange.

“Thank you. Thank you both. I really appreciate that.” You mumbled sheepishly, trying to refrain from showing the utter delight coursing through you at the milestone it felt like it was.

“You’ve got this, we know you do. International football won’t know what’s hit it now you’re back.” 

They weren’t wrong. They couldn’t have been more right with everything they said in that bathroom if they tried. 

On the coach journey to the stadium, you were overcome with a strange sense of serenity. You were at peace, calm, focused. You were honed in on the game, hyperfixated on it perhaps. A newfound determination that hadn’t been with you in the bathroom that morning but had been building for the last few months, for the last few years, ever since you stepped away in the first place. 

You stepped off the bus, headphones still firmly in place, and the small gaggle of fans awaiting your team cracked a smile onto your face. That only grew when you spotted a young girl with a Barcelona shirt who lit up at the sight of you, rambling off excitedly to her parents who met her eagerness with bright smiles and wide eyes. You made a mental note to try and find her in the crowd after the game, because without having the foggiest idea of the impact she’d had, the small Norwegian with her blue eyes and brown pig-tailed hair had nearly single-handedly reinforced your sense of belonging within the team. 

As you passed her, you gave her a wave, to which she lit up more, and in her giddiness at having been spotted by you she didn’t even bother asking for a signature. You felt bad at leaving her behind – you never tired of coming across devoted fans, especially ones like her, they were simply a novelty that never wore off – but without wanting to distract yourself from the headspace you’d pulled yourself into, you headed into the stadium with her grinning face in the back of your mind.

Stepping into the locker room, seeing your jersey hung up with your number in blue contrasted on the classic red of the Norway kit, it was… an indescribable feeling. And you took advantage of the moment, where you were the first into the room, by taking a photo, wanting to remember the feeling of it. Your fingers hovered over your phone screen as you thought what to do next, before sending the photo to your family and to Alexia without a second thought. Then you slid your phone into your pocket, took a deep breath in, and headed over to your cubby.

When the rest of the team filed in, some of your teammates in the locker room mistook your intense concentration for apprehension and anxiety, but with a quiet word from Ingrid each time they came over to tell her, they were reassured it was just what you had to do to ensure you got out onto that pitch. 

Every game wasn’t so intense, nine times out of ten you joined in with the feel-good and light-hearted nature of the locker room in Spain, it was a different story with the national team though on this occasion. Future matches after this wouldn’t be the same, this one just felt like the most important one so far on a personal level. After the momentary blip in the bathroom, your mind had switched itself into protection mode; be as detached as possible from the surroundings and stay in your own world, so that nothing could knock the mediocre amount of confidence you had built. That confidence was about as strong as a tower of playing cards, the slightest thing could send it flying, hence your tunnel vision.

You changed into your pre-match kit, you had your necessary discussions with the manager and the staff, and you headed out onto the grass for the warm-up. Music blasted through the stadium and there was a quiet hum of general chatter as the stands filled up, fans littered by the sides of the pitch watching with their banners, the odd few catching your eye. Some had your name on, welcoming you back, which nearly made you stop in your tracks in the middle of the field. 

For some reason, it never occurred to you what the fan response might be. You thought the majority of people, ranging from your own teammates to the rest of the world, wouldn’t really… care. And the ones that did care were for all the wrong reasons. The reception you received was so unexpected. You were speechless at it. Not that you could dwell on it too long then, considering there was a very fast cross approaching the box that had your name on it.

It was a little tricky to find a stream for a Norway game in Spain, but Alexia had her ways and after a few technical difficulties that were solved by one Vicky Lopez, Alexia was left in one of the common rooms of the hotel with her laptop hooked up to the projector. Bean bags scattered the room for a few others to watch the game, some who were up to watch any football match in existence out of love for the game and others who were watching for the sake of you, knowing the importance of a seemingly inconspicuous international game. 

Front and centre with her laptop in front of her ready to solve any further problems, adamant to not miss a single second of the game, was Alexia. Her game was the day after, the greatest twist of fate she could ever ask for, because otherwise she might have simply had to drop out of her own game so she could watch you. To her left was Irene, as well as Mariona on her right. More teammates were scattered behind her, but her attention wasn’t on them.

By the time the warm-up was done, you were well and truly in the zone. You were ready, couldn’t be more ready if you tried. The sounds of your boots against the floor as you made your way back to the locker room was music to your ears, the smell of grass and the way blades of it clung to your boots, socks, skin, it was grounding. 

You’d been doing this since you were a child, the same age as that young fan outside the ground earlier. The feel of your studs digging into the mud below and the rhythm of the sport was second nature. It was peace, it was your safe space. Trying to convince yourself this was just any other game was useless, it was the biggest game of your personal standards so far. You might have won the Champion’s League, might have gotten a quadruple with the club of your dreams. This was different to that. 

This was establishing who you were, to yourself. This was you separating yourself from your team, being your own person and taking something for you. This was an individual achievement that might not make sense to most but meant everything to you. 

The best part of it all? You weren’t nervous or anxious in the slightest.

Not anxious, even when you stood in front of your jersey where it was hung up at your cubby. Even when you changed from your warm-up kit to the shirt that had pride and responsibility entangled in the fibres of it. 

Every match before this, you had been playing with a goal in mind for your team. Instead, there was only one real purpose in mind for an otherwise unimportant game: for you to get through it, for nobody but yourself. You wanted to play well, you wanted to put out a star-stopping performance like you did every time, but if you played like the worst player in the world you wouldn’t really care long as you made it to the final whistle. 

…well, maybe that was a stretch, god only knows what would happen if you ended up scoring a hattrick of own goals or something stupid like that, but the chances of that happening against you dropping a mediocre performance was quite unlikely. 

No matter how you performed, you knew you had a support system behind you that would make you feel like the world was yours, like you were invincible. That’s just how they made you feel on a day to day basis. And it was how you felt when you checked your phone before the final team, to see a long and soppy text from Alexia about how proud she was, how she had tears in her eyes before the whistle had even blew, how she had never felt so much love and pride for another person ever, and so much more that echoed in your mind as you made your way to the tunnel. 

Ingrid lined up behind you, her hand lightly tapping your shoulder to gain your attention. The look on her face was determined, focused, like yours, yet there was an underlying softness in her eyes like she could burst out into sobs any second at the sight of you in front of her, about to play for your country again. Her lips were in a straight, thin line as if she was fighting off the world’s biggest smile, and she held her arms out to offer you a hug whilst not putting any pressure on the invitation. But you couldn’t resist, so you stepped into her arms and momentarily hid your face in her shoulder.

She didn’t speak, didn’t do anything but hug you, a reprieve from everything around that you would remember long into the future. There wasn’t anyone you would rather have at your side, and there especially wasn’t anyone else in the world that deserved to be at your side for such a momentous day than her. 

That last pocket of time before the game started, you closed your eyes and took a second to breathe, step back from the importance of the situation, and remind yourself that no matter what happens, you’ve still hit a milestone you never thought you would again. The outcome of the game was somewhat in your control, as long as you gave it your all, nobody could ask for anything more, and you couldn’t ask for anymore from yourself either. You had faith in yourself, something that previous versions of you never had. And that was the most important takeaway from this whole thing.

When you stepped out onto the grass for the second time that day, this occasion the actual moment you’d been waiting for, you allowed yourself to take in the surroundings and the gravity of the event as you lined up for the national anthems. The second they were over, and you made your rounds with the other team shaking hands, you slipped into that unshakable trance that always overcame you for a game, and got the job done.

—

“You did it, engel.” 

Was there any better sound after a day like the one you’d had?

“You did it, and you scored a goal, and you won the game, and got player of the match.” 

Your girlfriend was right. 

So far though, everything post-match was sort of a blur. In a few days time, when things had calmed and you had time to process things, each little sentimental conversation and congratulation and recognition for what you had achieved, they would all jump out into a clear picture to make up one of the best days of your life. For now however, it was all a little too far out of view. All you had was a concoction of feelings which had settled deep in your chest, a heavy mixture of accomplishment and overwhelm. 

Once the adrenaline and dopamine rush wore off, you were left in a pit of… mental discomfort. Disarray. 

You had built the occasion up so much, but how were you supposed to feel afterwards? What was the expected reaction? 

“I couldn’t stop crying, really. And you looked so happy afterwards too, tell me how you are, tell me all about it. I’m so sad I wasn’t there.” 

Ingrid was sat on the bed beside you as Alexia took up your phone screen, leaning over the balcony of her hotel room back in Spain. Unlike normal, even just their company did little, if anything, to calm your overthinking. 

What you do remember, was getting quite lost in your emotions after the final whistle. You shook hands with the opposing team, you saw Ingrid coming rushing towards you from the bench before she wrapped you up in a tight hug and lifted you off the ground, which was where it all sunk in. Then fast forward to the post-match huddle on the pitch, during which you were made centre of attention and emphatically congratulated for both your performance and personal achievement, and suddenly you were wired. 

The locker room afterwards, all you remembered at that moment of time was it vibrating with energy, with you at the centre of it. The coach ride back too, you were giddy and completely overjoyed at how successful the day had gone, it literally couldn’t have been much better. 

“I’m so proud of you, I don’t know what else to say. But I a-”

And yet, your mind did what it did best, and got the better of you. It twisted and warped the already skewed memory you had to play into your insecurities and downplay the pride of others.

You overestimated their excitement, didn’t you? You imagined something that wasn’t there just to feed into your own wishes, dreams, delusions. None of them were anywhere near as excited for you. It was just. One. Game.

“Do other people feel like this after… playing one game?” 

Both of them looked at you, utterly perplexed. Alexia was still rambling about how proud she was and Ingrid was on her phone, thanking people on your behalf, when you’d said that out of nowhere. The worst part though, was that you glanced at them like it wasn’t an upsetting question for them to hear. Like you were genuinely asking as a result of the racing thoughts going around your head.

“What do you mean by that?” Ingrid wondered with a frown that matched Alexia’s too. 

The Norwegian next to you looked like she was angry at what she’d heard, you didn’t take it to heart though because she had a tendency to look fairly homicidal when something worried her. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, seemed as if she was on the brink of tears. Her face exuded delicateness, like one more comment might send her crying into her cotton socks, and you had to avert your attention away from the earnesty in her eyes because it might have swayed you into thinking that you were allowed to feel so fulfilled after just one game.

“Everyone else doesn’t get this excited and whatever after one match. It’s a bit… ridiculous and childish, isn’t it.” 

The blonde’s jaw dropped for a moment whilst Ingrid’s clenched in heartbreak and disappointment – not at you, but rather at the fact you couldn’t even enjoy such a milestone.

“No. You aren’t allowed to think like that.” Alexia stated first which caught you and Ingrid by surprise. “Please give her a hug from me.” 

Her request nearly brought a smile to your face despite the self-deprecating habits that ran the show, and you cracked just a little when your best friend did as asked almost immediately. Through the camera, Alexia could see as you settled into it, noticing how you sank into Ingrid like you needed a hug. Not just a brief, congratulatory one that felt almost obligated, but one where somebody you loved embraced you tightly, tight enough to quell the feelings that stirred inside of you. As she watched, however, that realisation of the midfielder slowly faded into how much she needed one from you. How much she desperately wanted to be in Ingrid’s position then.

Once you pulled away, Alexia could already tell part of the weight on your shoulders had been lifted. Not all of it, the rest probably wouldn’t budge until you slept it off when you let your body and mind rest, but still. Progress. And it was all she could do from afar, sending her love in any way that worked. That was something she was still figuring out, and each time you reluctantly had to spend time apart, she got better at it. Of course, as you returned to Norway for the national team, that was the occasion she finally knew best what to do. Because even though she wasn’t there with you, it sure did feel like it. 

“Don’t start undermining yourself now, snuppa. You have nothing to worry about, you’ve done all that you need to do. You should be feeling happy for yourself. Not like this.” Ingrid murmured, loosening her arms when she finished talking to leave a kiss on your forehead. Alexia hummed her agreement, smiling softly when you turned back to her, a small action that filled your heart with adoration and made you blush the tiniest bit. Though, it was still noticed by the Spaniard, who gave a teasing grin once she did.

“You know we are proud of you, and everybody else is too. I know I wasn’t there, but I can bet my life on the fact the team showed you how they felt, no? So why are you thinking that what you feel is not allowed?” She asked, a playful lilt to her voice that proved she wasn’t irritated by your adamance to not celebrate yourself, rather she was more than happy to take on the role of hyping you up until the joy you locked away finally bloomed in full. 

“I don’t know, it’s just… weird. Feels weird for one game to be such a big deal.” 

“No.” A lonesome demand which left no room for argument.

“What do you mean ‘no’ Ale?” You scrunched your nose up at the woman’s peculiar behaviour, meanwhile Ingrid stifled a laugh.

“You can’t think like that. I’m saying no.” She had a smugness to her face that communicated she had some sort of plan going on. Not that you could tell, but Ingrid could. You were the most confused you think you’d ever been in your entire life. Coincidentally, it took away some of the things bearing down on your shoulders since it derailed your mind from its destructive route and pulled you in the opposite direction of the toxicity it so desperately clung onto.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just say no to m-”

“I could tell, even from across the screen, that you were proud of yourself when the game ended. You had a huge smile on your face, one that made me cry. What you’re doing now is trying to fit into what you think everybody else expects from you, but it’s not that at all. We expect you to be happy and proud because you should be. This is not some small achievement, it wasn’t just a game, it was something that plagued you for years and now it’s all in the past because of how strong and determined and brave you are. So, come on, say it for yourself.” She looked at you expectantly, an eyebrow raised as she waited. You were almost certain that outside of the camera frame, she had a hand on her hip as she tapped her against the floor like an impatient train ticketer. 

“Say what?” 

“You know what.” Ingrid glanced at you, letting out a huff of laughter when she saw the unimpressed frown you wore at the coup that had transpired against you. “I know you feel it deep down, you just don’t think you’re allowed to believe and say it. But you are, so say it out loud now to us both.” 

You rolled your eyes and cursed her out under your breath as you shook your head at her antics.

“If you don’t say it, I’m hanging up the call.” Still, you stayed silent for a bit longer. Alexia let out a theatrical sigh, much more exaggerated and dramatic than was necessary. You threw your head back against the pillow and groaned in frustration. “Vale, I am leaving then, goodni-”

“Alright, alright!” You exclaimed with another annoyed sigh. You then said it, but in a reluctant and barely audible mumble. “I’m proud of myself.” 

“Are you? Are you actually?” Alexia’s eyebrow shot up even higher somehow, provoking an honest answer from you instead of a hesitant and disdainful one.

“Yes. I am proud of myself.” 

That time when you spoke, you sounded awfully bashful. For all the right reasons too; a second or so after you finally said it and meant it, there was this warmth that flooded your chest. The realisation that you did feel that way about yourself washed over you and almost took your breath away. 

The old you would have never admitted such an unprecedented thing because feeling proud towards something of your own doing wasn’t a thing, it wasn’t a concept and it certainly wasn’t a possibility. The old you would have shrugged off the praises of others and reminded yourself that success wasn’t an accomplishment, but a necessity. What other choice did you have than to succeed? If you were going to do something, you only did it if you knew you would achieve the outcome you wanted. If there was a possibility that you weren’t, then you didn’t do it, through fear of underwhelming others, and proving to your subconscious that you really were the subpar human both you and the rest of the world thought you were.

Yet, you sat on your bed at a hotel in the capital of your home country with two people that had changed you for the better, having reached something that you never thought you would manage to do again. Not only did you manage it, you flourished whilst doing it. 

So yeah, maybe you were proud of yourself. Because with the pair that celebrated the moment with you, you’d become the person that the younger you, the one that hadn’t yet heard of autism and still had dreams bigger than the universe, always thought you’d be. You’d grown into the example you saw growing up as a teenager but never imagined yourself as due to the limits put on you. The two people with you then had allowed that to happen. They gave you a safe space to exist in, to daydream in and to wish for things bigger and better than you ever had before. They returned the true version of yourself back to you, the one that had been lost for a few years and you felt whole. Rather than clipping your wings, they gave you space to soar. And the version of you as a child that could hardly sleep at night due to being enraptured by your imagination and all the things you wanted to do in the future, she had a sacred space to live in again, back in your heart, as a result of your resilience and the love that surrounded you.

“I’m really proud of myself.” 

Ingrid’s face softened immeasurably as you admitted it wholeheartedly that time, meaning every single syllable of the phrase. Alexia, on the other hand, was grinning like a maniac, however the teasing act she was trying to put on was severely overlooked then when you saw how her eyes glistened in the sunlight that bounced off of the building across from her. It forced the same reaction upon you too, and before you knew it, there was a tear streaking down your cheek. 

“I can’t believe I did it.” You choked out, Ingrid wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. Alexia briefly turned the camera away from her to try and hide how she wiped her own tears, but the sniffles coming from her gave away instantly. It only made you cry more.

“You did do it. We really could not be happier for you.” The dark-haired woman told you sincerely, the pair of you turning to the phone screen when a stifled sob sounded through the room. 

“I’m so happy. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.” 

It was one thing for you and Ingrid to have never seen Alexia like that, in such an emotional state, but it was a big thing for her too. 

To her, it was like from the minute you stepped into her life, everything she felt had increased tenfold in intensity. Every emotion overcame her a hundred times harder than before, she suddenly had especially strong opinions about things she’d never had to think about before you, and she knew for a fact she loved with more conviction than she ever did before. Every aspect of her life was just so… vibrant. And full of life. The way you viewed the world had unknowingly affected how she saw it too, because she genuinely, completely, absolutely believed that it was so much more beautiful through your eyes. 

You taught her how to love, that much she knew. But what she didn’t realise until that moment, was that you had also taught her how to be a better person. A better girlfriend, sister, daughter, friend, human. You had taught her how to be more in tune with herself, more comfortable with who she was. Seeing someone express themself as freely as you did, it made Alexia want to do the same too. So it meant a great deal to her when you mentioned only a few days prior that she was your safe person, because she thought that about you too.

If she thought you were the best person she’d ever met, and you thought the world of her? It gave her, Alexia Putellas, Ballon d’Or winner and World Cup winner, more confidence than anything else in existence could ever do. It gave her more security in showing the emotions she well and truly felt, rather than suppressing them for the sake of others. At the same time, it made her feel comfortable in expressing emotions that were new to her also. Like, for example, not just tearing up at an achievement someone else had got, but sobbing at it. From pride, from love, from admiration, all of that and more.

She felt she was on cloud nine being loved by you. It was the greatest privilege of her life. Seeing the person that she loved and that loved her do something they so desperately wanted to do was indescribable. Every emotion she experienced then were things she didn’t even know she could feel. That was just the effect of being around you; everything out of reach suddenly seemed… possible. 

From that day onwards, she knew she had to make it her mission to remind you what an astounding person you were, even more so than she already had been doing. She had to make sure you knew she loved you in ways she had no idea she could. 

—

Having something that stressed you out to extreme heights go as successful as your first game did, it had an obvious impact on how your daily mood. It was evident to everyone in the way you carried yourself, both to those that knew you well and those that hardly knew you at all.

Walking into breakfast the day after the game, each person in the room could see you held your head higher, you had a smile on your face that never left, and there was just this air about you, this confidence that wasn’t there beforehand. The change was literally night and day. And it uplifted everyone.

With it being a recovery day, the schedule was light compared to a day of training. That meant you had more free time than normal, and whereas previous days that would have made you panic, nothing could shake you out of the bliss you found your mind living in. Rather than shying away from all the suggestions thrown at you of what you could spend the day doing, you relished in it. 

First, you ate breakfast, vafler of course, courtesy of an extra upbeat Heidi, seated with some of the more unfamiliar faces of the group as Ingrid caught up with them. Initially you were quiet, but as the conversation flowed between the table, you found yourself joining with ease. There was an occasion or two where you found yourself overthinking what you wanted to add, but the more time went on, the less that happened. By the end of breakfast a number of days into camp, you’d quite comfortably found solace in each person in the squad. Unlike the past, there wasn’t a single member of both the team and the staff that you felt uncomfortable and unwelcome around. 

You found that, rather quickly, this was becoming a place you wanted to come back to as often as you could. For the people, the sense of belonging and even family, for the home comforts of your country, and for the sheer triumph that had established itself within you. Everything that happened in the past, all the mental scars and the wounds to your self-esteem, were fading away as if they were never there in the first place. 

Not only did it give you a great amount of joy and relief at being with the national team again and adorning the Norway crest, it was healing. In a way you never knew you needed but couldn’t go on without. Even with one match still to go of the camp, you could tell you were a completely new person. You were a new version of yourself, one that you loved most and were proud to be.

“Hey, uh, apparently there is a sight-seeing cruise the staff have booked for anyone that wants to go. A few of us are going, will you come too?” 

It was Frida that had appeared beside you as you stacked your plate on top of the other used ones once you’d finished eating, a hopeful smile on her face because she wanted you to go, you recognised that. She wasn’t asking for the sake of asking, something you would have convinced yourself of in the past.

Was going on a sight-seeing cruise on your agenda when you woke up? No, but it sounded like the perfect way to spend a day where you otherwise had no plans. Of course you wanted to go.

A good few hours of your afternoon were taken up with the spontaneous boat trip that took you around some of Oslo’s fjords on a traditional sailing ship, around half the team coming along and making the day-out a hell of a lot of fun. Drinks were shared, food was eaten, anecdotes were told and jokes were made about anything and everything in between. 

When you planned to come back, you didn’t think it would be this good. You knew that once you got back home, it wasn’t just the achievement you had to take with you and remember forever, it was the memories like that which would live in your heart. There was one instance specifically on the boat where you were sat with some of the team, new faces and old, where you took a second as the others continued to laugh and drink the single glasses of wine they were allowed, in which you could feel the warm crackle of contentment slowly simmering in your chest as you sat with them all. You thrived off of the connection you experienced with others, and there on the boat you recognised how pure and unfiltered what you'd found was. Your mask wasn’t up, you weren’t pretending to be someone you weren’t to try and fit in. 

You appreciated the people you were with much more than they would ever understand, comprehend even. As the thought crossed your mind and the gratitude burned inside you, there was a huge grin on your face you didn’t hide, couldn’t try to if you wanted to, because of how happy you felt. The conversation then wasn’t particularly funny, it wouldn’t explain the size of the smile on your face, but none of them cared. They didn’t point it out and make it the butt of the joke. A few of them noticed and felt themself have the same reaction too, they cared about your joy just as much as everyone else that knew you. Frida saw it too, nudging Ingrid in the process who swore she hadn’t seen a better sight.

You, with friends you’d made on the national team, immersed in the conversation and the banter with no doubts or fears, and a genuine smile on your face. It might not have been a milestone to others, but to her it was one she’d remember on your behalf for as long as her mind would let her.

Near the end of the journey on the way back, you were at the back of the boat away from the dialed-down madness now that the impromptu trip was almost over, you facing the sunset as you left the horizon behind. With the dwindling hours of the day, it’d dropped in temperature, aided by the calm water below and the chill that drifted in the air. You tugged your zipped coat over your chin, hands tucked deep into your pockets with ears so cold they were probably verging on purple. But even then, it was a cold you were used to, a cold that was your home, and it hardly even registered in your mind as you took some time to process what the trip had been and the events of the day before, with your first match back and all. 

Still, you were speechless, unable to make sense of everything. Such huge, almost life-changing things like this, it took a long while for you to fully grasp what you thought of it all. The only thing you could highlight was that it was worth it. So. Worth it.

The way the world worked was funny to you, how life worked out when it seemed least likely to. If you hadn't met Ingrid, you might not have continued playing football, since you met her at such a time where everything felt uninspiring and pointless, just for her to end up restoring the slightest bit of faith that kept you playing. If you hadn’t transferred to Barcelona and stayed in Frankfurt instead, where you’d hit the ceiling of your abilities both professionally and personally, maybe you wouldn’t have ever returned to playing for your country. If you hadn’t met Alexia, you certainly wouldn���t have felt so loved, so content in your safe space to leave your comfort zone, so much more confident with yourself, you just wouldn’t be who you were and where you were now. 

Others could see it too.

“Are you alright?” Frida came to join you, the person you’d got along with best so far in camp, her cheeks a deep red but a warm smile on her face nevertheless.

“Yes, just taking it all in. I have been to Oslo so many times but have never seen it like this.” 

Something you noticed was that Frida’s eyes brightened when she spoke to people. You had no idea it was possible, but it was the truth, it was impossible to deny. Whether it was the way her face exuded glee whenever she smiled, because she didn’t just do it with her mouth but with every muscle in her face, or it was her soul reflecting the light within it, you didn’t know. But by the time you finished speaking, you mirrored her expression.

“Me too. Normally the staff book things for us if we want to do them, but they haven’t done something like this before. I really loved it.” She agreed, to which you nodded easily. There was a slight pause, before she turned to you properly. “I am glad you came. It is nice to see you like this, back here. I’m happy that you are happy, and that you are fitting in. It’s been really nice getting to know you properly.” 

You were just so grateful for how things had worked out for you. Never before had you been so at peace in your life.

“Thank you, Frida. I’ve… I’ve had a lot of fun here. I’m really glad I came.” Somehow, her smile got brighter.

“Me too! Will you come back for the next camp?”

That was something you had spent most of the night before thinking about. And by the time the sun began to rise, you were pretty certain of your answer.

“Yes, I think so.” You answered shyly, to which the blonde haired woman beamed at you. All the more reason to come back.

“Good, otherwise you would have to come to London so I can see you again.” She joked and you laughed in response, but underneath the surface you felt your heart clench at the sentiment. She wanted to see you again. A simple thing to her, treasured thing to you.

“You should come visit Barcelona, the weather is a lot better there.” Frida laughed along with you, as light and as gentle as the way she spoke.

“No, London weather is more like home, Barcelona is too hot for me.” 

All too soon, however, the boat pulled into the harbour and the day had come to an end. Or so you thought – your plan was to have dinner, then spend the rest of the night in your hotel room, coming down from the day. However, your teammates had other things in mind.

“Some of us are going to play cards later, care to join us?” 

The offer from Celin as she skipped to catch up with you was a tantilising one, though it wasn’t in your plan for the evening and you were pretty tired from all the emotions that had ripped through you recently. Despite that, with one look at her and the fact you knew it’d be a fun time, you gave in rather quickly. You nodded, and the forward grinned excitedly before going off to round up some others. 

During the walk back to the hotel, you weren’t convinced it was the right idea for you. You were tired, you were quite mentally exhausted, and any extra socialising might push you over the edge. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. After eating dinner, a select few of you, including Frida and Ingrid, stayed behind and spent a good hour or so immersed in many intense, highly competitive – because what else would be expected from a group of athletes – card games of different variations. And it didn’t go on too long, the rest were tired and wanted to relax on their own before training the next day with another game in only three days’ time, so it ended up working out perfectly. 

There really wasn’t anything more you could ask for from this whole thing.

—

The second and last game of the camp came and went pretty quick, and it went much the same way as the first. That time, however, you felt settled and calm from the second you woke up. There was no anxiety, no moments of utter blind panic, no doubts. You were focused for the game ahead with no preamble. It was a really, really good sign. One that wasn’t wrong, either, because you had yet another stellar game that Alexia watched with her eyes glued to the screen, except this time when the whistle blew there was a spark of excitement in her chest because that meant she was just one day away from getting to see you again. 

One sleep, one flight, one taxi ride, and you’d be back together again. So despite the MVP award that you’d been given again, all you could think about was arriving at your apartment to find her there and waiting for you. Her flight got in earlier, so she had ample time to go home and refresh herself, then get to your flat by the time you got back, and you just couldn’t wait for it. Reuniting with her after time apart had never felt so meaningful and needed. It had been torture going through the last two weeks without her; being on top of the world but without the person that had got you there was terrible luck. Your phone call with her afterwards was all soft murmurs and giddy declarations for what would soon come, topping off what had been another flawless day in Norway. 

You’d miss the chilly country, but you also missed Spain too. Missed your club, your apartment, the warmer weather, your teammates. All of the above never happened at Frankfurt, as harsh as it sounds. Not that there was warmer weather there exactly, but the point still stands. 

The game finished in the early evening, which left perfect time for there to be a sort of goodbye dinner, the best way to end the camp before everyone went their separate ways back to club football again. It was lowkey, it was heartfelt, and there were a couple occasions you caught yourself looking around the room and reminiscing on what the last fortnight had been. 

A success is what it had been. In all avenues: football, socially, personally. You took the time to acknowledge that it was everyone else in your life that had gotten you there, but you could hear Alexia in the back of your head.

“You did this yourself. All we did was urge you, it was you that took yourself there and woke up each day determined to make it go well. We did nothing really, it was all you, engel.” 

It had always been the most important thing to you to make sure you gave credit to those around who helped you. This time, however, you made the conscious effort to give yourself credit too. It felt incredibly unnatural and embarrassingly forced sometimes, like a cringey motivational podcast, yet you still tried. Initially you shrugged it off. Then, you truly started to take it in. Before you knew it, you were lay in bed on your final night before returning home, letting yourself sink into the mattress and feeling the weight of your effort lift, because it was done. Over. 

Knowing that you had faced something that seemed unexplainably difficult, pushed through the hard moments, and came out of it stronger, wiser, with a better sense of yourself and two matches under your belt, it… felt like you could finally release a deep breath you’d held in for years. The quiet yet powerful realisation that you actually did it kept sleep far out of reach, that wasn’t a surprise, and even though you might have looked a little psychotic lying in a pitch-black room in the middle of the night, you didn’t stifle the smile that forced its way through. You’d worked so hard to feel that pride, you weren’t about to fight it off. 

You let it consume you, not annoyed at the lack of rest, knowing that you were about to go home to your girlfriend who would tackle you into bed at 4pm if necessary to ensure you got the sleep you needed, and she wouldn’t move an inch out of your space for the whole time. Dreamy. 

You couldn’t wait to see her proud face in person, not a lagging phone screen, hearing her ramble with her arms around you rather than over a phone call with a tinny signal. 

Ingrid could sense your excitement from the other side of the hotel room as you both packed your things the morning you were due to leave. She couldn’t help it, she felt the same too. There was a small something hidden away in her backpack she was due to give to you before you went your separate ways, you back to your apartment and Ingrid back to hers. It had been Alexia’s idea, a plan discussed whilst you slept in the next bed over as she spoke in a hushed whisper that Alexia could hardly hear, each time she asked the Norwegian to repeat herself adding to the risk of you waking up. Alas, you didn’t and you were none the wiser to their conniving behaviour.

The duration of the short flight, the dark-haired woman swore she could feel you physically vibrating with excitement in your seat beside her; legs bouncing, hands either wringing together or tapping against your thighs, you pulled out all the stops. The only thing Ingrid could do was smile with amusement, deep down revelling in your clear joy and your carelessness for showing it. And it continued from the flight, to the shuttle to the terminal, to the car ride that dropped you off back home. 

Barcelona was well and truly home. Or, home was just wherever your life with Alexia was.

Your desperate anticipation was entirely all-consuming, to the point where Ingrid had to pull you back by the handle on your backpack to keep you from running off before she got to say goodbye. Well, not a goodbye as such since you’d be seeing each other in a couple days back at the club, and you did live in the same complex, but she still wanted to have a final moment with you to round off the international period.

Her hands landed on your shoulders once you’d entered the elevator together, and her facial features fell into that soft, “I’m about to say something sincere and you’re going to let me say it,” kind of look. She held your gaze for a few long moments as the building floors ticked by, and there was a smile that crinkled her eyes in the corners. Really, she didn’t need to say a word. You saw the unspoken message etched across her whole being: I knew you could do it.

Then, of course, she drew you into one of her usual hugs that had you toeing the line of death due to lack of oxygen, along with a gentle murmur in your ear of Stolt av deg, the combination of your mother tongue and the honesty she spoke it with poking at your tear ducts. The sentimental value of the moment was almost overwhelming, it was all you could do to hug her back like your life depended on it. 

Your dignity was saved by the bell, literally, as the doors opened and the chime to match it went off, alerting you both as you pulled away and Ingrid reached for her backpack. It was her floor, though she wasn’t getting out just yet, to your confusion. Your eyebrows pinched together as she rooted around in her bag for a little while, until she pulled out a small gift bag. 

“This is for you.” She said simply as the elevator doors shut again, though it didn’t go anywhere. “From all of us at camp, but it was Alexia’s idea. She wanted to do something for you. So thank her, okay? She’s in awe of you, as are us all. But her especially.”

And with a quick kiss to your forehead, she was grabbing her suitcase and leaving the elevator. By the time your brain caught up, the doors were already closing again. You stood frozen to the spot for a second or two, cheeks red and your head spinning at the prospect of the gift in your hand, whatever it was you didn’t know yet, before you pressed the button for your floor and the elevator started whirring again.

For the whole journey up – which was about fifteen seconds – you stared at the bag in your hand, staggered by the sudden surprise. This definitely wasn’t on the cards for your return home. Regardless, you realised your heart rate had picked up a little. Whether it was from the gift or the prospect that Alexia was only one closed door away from you as you stepped out the lift, you didn’t care. 

It was a miracle you didn’t run to your door really, though you found that since getting out of the car, your energy had dipped quite an amount. There was only one logical explanation for that; all the exhaustion the past fortnight had caused was catching up to you now that you were soon to be with the one person that you could properly rest with.

You hardly managed one knock at the door, not bothering with your keys, before it swung open to reveal her. You didn’t even catch a glance at her– one second your feet were on the ground, next minute you had a face full of faded blonde hair and a familiar pair of arms around you that lifted you up into the tightest embrace she’d ever given. It was a bit awkward given that you weren’t quite expecting it and you still had your backpack on, but, hoping that your gift wasn’t fragile, you dropped it to the ground and wrapped yourself around her wholly. 

God only knows how long the two of you spent like that, but neither of you were prepared to move for a long while, wanting to drink in each other’s company again. You planned to not pull back until Alexia did, a plan that was entirely scuffed when you heard a quiet sniffle. 

When you leaned back, the picture before you was unexpected, yet made your heart swell.

“Why are you tearing up, Ale?” You asked in a quiet voice, your hands moving up to rest on her cheeks as she linked her own together behind your back.

“Because you are back here with me again. Because you make me proud by being you, and you make me proud to love you.” Her voice trembled with her reply and it made it all the more sweeter. 

That last part about her being proud to love you, just might never leave your mind. Nobody had ever said they were proud to love you, nevermind mean it. You know there were probably some in your life that felt the same way but weren’t too sure how to articulate it, but Alexia did. She always did. You were proud to love her, too. 

“I love you, Alexia. And I missed you so much.” 

After shrugging off your bag, you rushed in for a hug, a proper one this time. One where you ducked your head down and buried your face in her neck as her body enveloped you, the kind you’d craved every morning you woke up and every night before you slept. All you could think then was finally. Finally, the person who’d had the biggest impact on you out of everyone, maybe bar Ingrid, could feel it within you in her arms. The way your shoulders were lighter and your posture stood taller, how it did from the morning after the first game. 

“I love you too. Love you, love you, love you, lo-” You removed your head from her neck, rolled your eyes, and shut her up with a kiss. A cliche, soppy, rom-com movie kind of kiss at the end of the film when the protagonists finally got together. That word again, finally. Except the two of you had said those words probably thousands of times and it never got old.

“That was the longest two weeks of my life, god.” You groaned as you rested your forehead against hers, eyes falling shut as you enjoyed the close proximity to her again. She gave an unreasonably wide grin for such a simple comment, and pulled you closer to her somehow, to the point where any outsiders wouldn’t have a clue where she ended and you began.

“For me too, but it was worth it, no?” The way she proposed the question, you knew it was her last way of properly checking in with you before embedding the two of you in post-success joy, where she could at last go on and on and on forever about the two weeks. You loved it, the way she wanted to know what you were thinking at times she thought you might be covering the truth, without doing it in an oppressive and irritated way. Your answering smile gave you away before you had the chance to think of a reply.

“So worth it.” You told her shyly, watching as her entire demeanour lit up more than it already was before. “How was camp for you? I’ve barely got a word in about it.” 

“No, no, no. Let’s not bring the mood down with that, I just want to forget it.” You frowned, a notion Alexia caught onto instantly as she waved you off, so she distracted you with a comforting kiss to your cheek and a bright smile. “Ingrid gave you the gift, right? Open it now.” 

Making a mental note to revisit that conversation, you let it slide temporarily. You reached down and grabbed the bag again, glancing between that and Alexia’s somewhat nervous face with a questioning look. A slightly accusatory one as well, because there really was no need for her to get a gift after everything she had already done for you.

“What have you done?” You wondered suspiciously, the blonde anxiously chewing her lower lip as she waited for you to see what it was.

“Just… something. For you. From me. And your Norway teammates, and-” 

“Okay, well, quit the anxious rambling and let me open it.” You teased, some of the tension leaving her shoulders with the quiet chuckle she gave.

Never in your life could you have predicted what was waiting for you.

In the world of football, the gift was a common thing for reasons you thought were much more important than the one you were given it for. You didn’t expect to receive one, but you got it, it was right there in your hands.

Your shirt from the first game you played, first match you started, signed by each and every teammate there, along with some staff members like Heidi and Gemma. All of them took the time, under instruction by Ingrid and Alexia, to sign it for you as a token of their respect, their admiration, and their support. Unwithering support, each and every single one of them. Ingrid had nearly cried at the suggestion Alexia made, and the latter woman could cry as she watched you stare at it in disbelief.

“I thought it would be nice if we had it framed and put it on a wall in your apartment. So that you can see it and be reminded of it everyday. You seem to struggle with remembering your strengths and I think this is the biggest example I could get to help you with that. I want you to acknowledge all you have overcome to get here, I want you to see the product of your hard work. Well, this is that. I think. I don’t know. If you don’t agree, then we can, I don’t know, n-”

“Shut up.” 

“Q…qué?” 

“Shut up, Alexia. This is the best thing someone has ever done for me.” 

The midfielder scoffed lightheartedly to brush off the bold statement out of fear of what it might have done to her emotions. She stepped closer again and hugged you, unable to keep herself away from you after so much time apart. And you just fell into her, arms loose around her waist as she placed one of those beautifully soft kisses against your forehead whilst whispering the purest declarations you’d ever heard.

Your emotions, on the other hand, had hit such a height, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. They’d built up so much that you were frozen by them. The sole thought that escaped through was just… finally.

Finally, you had someone that was proud to love you, someone that would go behind your back and plot from another country the best gift to give you, someone that let you be… you. No mask, no anxiety, no fear of being too much. You had people around you that saw you for who you were rather than what you weren’t, that didn’t care if some traits were different, because, as a product of finally being in a place in life both metaphorically and physically, you didn’t change a thing about yourself.

Finally, you were the person you always set out to be. 

—

i am so, so sorry for how long this took to come out! it's been a time these last few weeks. after i posted part one i had an awful experience with trolls in my inbox and it was the worst thing i've had to deal with, and to be completely honest if it happens again with this one i'm most likely gonna dip out of here for good, i just don't have the energy to deal with that. anyways it was so bizarre writing p1 when i was manically anxious about uni because that part was similar to how i felt then, compared to now with p2 where i'm happy and settled at uni and still riding the wave of relief at how it's worked out there like in this fic. thanks for sticking around and waiting, hope you liked this little story within a story, there will be more to come of reverie hopefully if all goes well :)

[lisasmuts]

CHEATING ON YOU

Lisa x Male reader

7k words.

The debt series.

( The first two weeks with yn )

Her expression falls slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features as she clutches the bouquet closer to her chest. She bites her lower lip, clearly torn between her professional obligations and wanting to spend time with Eli. With a soft sigh, she reaches out to touch Eli’s cheek gently.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I really wanted to spend tonight with you after being apart for so long, but…” she glances toward the hallway leading to the studios “I have to finish recording some vocals for the new album. The producer is only available tonight, and we’re on such a tight deadline.” Her eyes suddenly brighten with an idea, and a mischievous smile plays across her lips. “But wait! Why don’t you come with me to the studio? Nobody else will be there except my producer, and I can show you what I’ve been working on! It’ll be our little secret.”

Lisa takes his hand excitedly, her slender fingers intertwining with his as she begins leading him through the sleek, modern hallways of the LLOUD building. The click of her heel echoes against the polished floors as she occasionally glances back at him with that radiant smile that made millions fall in love with her. As he walks, she leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper against his ear, her warm breath sending a subtle shiver down Eli’s spine.

“I’ve missed you so much these past two weeks, Eli. It’s been driving me crazy not seeing you.” She squeezes his hand tighter, her body briefly pressing against his as he walks. “The new songs… some of them are about you, you know. About us. I can’t wait for you to hear them.” Her cheeks flush slightly as she admits this, a rare moment of vulnerability from the globally famous performer. “just promise you wont tell anyone what you hear tonight, okay?? My company would kill me if they knew I was giving private previews of unreleased material. Ahah”

As he approaches the recoding the studio at the end of corridor, Lisa pauses before the door, turning to face him fully. The hallway is dimly lit, casting soft shadows across her perfect features as she looks up at him with those expressive eyes that seem to hold the universe within them.

She places the bouquet carefully on a nearby table and steps closer, her hands sliding up his chest before resting on his shoulders.

“Thank you for surprising me today. You have no idea how much I needed to see you.” She rises on her tiptoes, pressing her soft lips against his in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens with unspoken hunger. “Let me show you my world for a while, and then…” she pulls back just enough to whisper against his lips, her eyes darkening with desire. “… maybe we can find somewhere private in this big building to properly make up for those two weeks apart. What do you say??”

Eli listens to her song, and he appreciates her songs then he says about leaving.

Lisa’s expression freezes for a split second as he mentions leaving, something flickering behind her eyes that doesn’t quite match her bright smile. As he turns to leave, she follows him to the door of the studio, her fingers lingering on his arm just a moment too long. There’s a subtle shift in her demeanor – a calculated adjustment in her posture, a too perfect tilt of her head as she waves goodbye.

“I’ll miss you so much, baby. This work is so important… you know how these producers are, right? So demanding!!” she sighs dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay? Don’t wait up for me through, it might be really late.”

As soon as the elevator doors close and he disappear from view, Lisa’s sweet expression melts away. A mischievous grin spreads across her face as she pulls out her phone, quickly typing a message with nimble fingers. The screen illuminates her face in the dimly lit hallway, casting shadows that accentuate her sharp cheekbones and the sudden gleam in her eyes. she bites her lower lip in anticipation as she sends the text to Y/N: “He just left, I’ll be there in 30. Get everything ready like we talked about.”

Back in her private dressing room, Lisa changes quickly, discarding her professional attire for something more provocative – a short pink skirt that barely covers her ass and a top that only covers her boobs and, showcases her slender neck and collarbones, her toned belly, and a black coat to cover her top.

She applies a fresh coat of deep red lipstick, smirking at her reflection as she imagines the night ahead. The Lisa that the world knows – sweet, professional, dedicated – is no where to be seen. This Lisa moves with predatory gaze, gathering her things with quick, decisive movements.

“Poor Eli,” she murmurs to herself, checking her reference one final time. “So trusting, so easy to fool. If only he knew what his best friend and I get up to when he’s not around.” She laughs softly, the sound echoing in the empty room as she slings her designer bag over her shoulder. “maybe someday we’ll tell him. Tell him what her girlfriend did to help him. Or maybe…” her voice drops to a whisper as she switches off the light “…maybe someday we’ll let him watch, if daddy y/n is feeling generous.”

As Lisa exits the building through a private back entrance to avoid being recognized, she feels a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. The night air is cool against her skin, raising goosebumps along her exposed arms and legs. Her phone buzzes with a response from y/n that makes her pussy throb with anticipation. She slides into the waiting black car with tinted windows, giving the driver y/n’s address before settling back against the leather seat. Her mind races with thoughts of what awaits her – y/n’s strong hands, his cock that fills her so perfectly, the way he knows exactly how to make her scream in ways Eli never could. The secret rendezvous, the betrayal, the risk of being caught – it all adds to the intoxicating cocktail of desire that has been building inside her.

“Drive faster,” she instructs the driver, her voice husky with need. “I’ve got someone waiting for me who doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” As the car accelerates through the streets of LA, Lisa closes her eyes, imaging the look on Eli’s face if he ever discovered her deception. The thought shouldn’t excite her, but it does – intensely. Perhaps that makes her terrible, but in this moment, with the promise of y/n’s touch just minutes away, Lisa manoban doesn’t care about being good. She only cares about satisfying the relentless hunger that’s been consuming her since the moment she lief straight to Eli’s face with a smile.

As she reaches y/n’s house, she waits impatiently outside his door.

Lisa’s breath catches in her throat as y/n opens the door, her body instantly responding to the sight of him. Without a word, she launches herself at him, her slender arms wrapping around his neck as her lips crash against his in a desperate, hungry kiss. Her tongue immediately seeks entrance to his mouth, moaning softly as she tastes him, her body pressing flush against his much larger frame. The pent-up desire from her deception, the thrill of sneaking around behind Eli’s back, all culminates in this moment of raw need.

“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day,” she gasps against his mouth, her thai accent thickening with arousal as y/n’s strong hands grip her firm ass,

Lifting her effortlessly. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, her short skirt riding up to reveal the wet bare pussy underneath. “Couldn’t focus on anything else… just needed your cock so badly.”

As y/n carries her to the bedroom, Lisa grinds against him, feeling his hardness through their clothes and whimpering with anticipation. When he tosses her onto the bed, she bounces slightly on the mattress. Quickly settling in a seductive position on the bed, her hair fanning out around her head like a dark halo.

( CAN’T CHOOSE ONE PHOTO, ALL THREE OF THIS PHOTOS ARE SO FUCKING HOTTTT )

Her chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath, her nipples visibly hard beneath the thin fabric of her top as y/n climbs on top of her. The weight of his body pressing her into the mattress sends a thrill down her spine, so different from Eli’s gentle touch. When his lips claim hers again, she surrenders completely, her hands clawing at his back, urging him closer as he grinds his clothed cock against her clothed pussy over her pink skirt.

“Fuck, I missed this,” y/n growls as he finally breaks the kiss, his voice deep and commanding in a way that makes Lisa’s pussy throb with need. “Your boyfriend has no idea what a little slut you really are, does he?”

Lisa’s eyes flash with wicked delight at the mention of Eli, a smirk playing on her swollen lips. She reaches up to trace y/n’s jawline with her fingertips, her touch teasing and provocative.

“Poor Eli,” she purrs, arching her back to press her boobs against y/n’s chest. “He thinks I’m in the studio right now, working so hard on my new album. Only if he knew his sweet little Lisa was spreading her legs for his best friend instead.” She laughs, the sound both musical and cruel. “He gave me roses today…can you believe it? Roses!!! While all I could think about was getting your cock inside me.” She laughs softly, the sound both musical and cruel. “He’s so fucking clueless. Earlier today, I was kissing him with the same lips I used to suck your cock since the last 2 weeks.” Her hand slides down between their bodies, palming y/n’s erection through his trousers and squeezing appreciatively. “Now are you going to keep talking about my boyfriend, or are you going to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name? because I’ve been soaking wet thinking about this all day, and if you make me wait any longer, I might just have to take matters into my own hands. You already know he never fucks me like you do… never makes me scream the way you do. God, I need it so bad tonight as every night. Need you to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name!”

Lisa’s eyes darken with lust as she hooks one leg around y/n’s waist, using the leverage to grind herself more firmly against him. The friction sends sparks of pleasure through her body, making her gasp and bite her lower lip. There’s something intoxicating about this betrayal, something that makes every touch more electric, every kiss more intoxicating. In this moment, with y/n weight pinning her to the bed and the knowledge of her deception fresh in her mind, Lisa feels more alive than she has in her entire life.

y/n chuckles darkly at Lisa’s words, he intentionally didn’t do anything making Lisa go out of patience and with practiced ease lowering his trouser and freeing his throbbing thick cock. While her gaze stares at him in the most seductive manner.

y/n with ease slides down her pink mini skirt, knowing in full well that she won’t be wearing any panties underneath which was true as her skirt left her thighs, she was all naked and glistening with her arousal for y/n.

Lisa’s eyes widened with arousal as y/n’s cock pushes inside her, her body arching off the bed as she takes him to the hilt with extreme ease. A moan escapes her lips, louder and more uninhibited than she ever allows herself to be with Eli. Her pussy clenches around his length, already perfectly molded to his length and shape after these past two weeks of constant use. As he mentions Eli, a wicked smile plays across her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief and cruelty.

“GOD!! NOOOO! Eli suspects absolutely nothing,” she purrs, rolling her hips to take y/n deeper, her hands gripping her shoulders for leverage. “You should have seen his face when I fed him that bullshit about having to work tonight. So fucking trusting, so pathetic.” She laughs, the sound cutting off into a gasp as y/n hits a particular sensitive spot inside her. “He even waited for me at the company building with roses. ROSES!!!!!!! While I was here all day, getting my pussy stretched by your cock. MMMMM, FUCKK……. He’s such a fool.”

y/n begin to thrust harder, reminding her of their arrangement, and Lisa’s eyes roll back slightly from pleasure. Her nails dig into his skin as she recalls how easily she agreed to the deal – using her body to clear Eli’s debt, a debt that he took from y/n. the irony makes her pussy clench tighter around y/n’s cock, her arousal intensifying with each thrust and each word of their deception.

“Best deal I ever made,” she moans, her thai accent thickening with each word. “Eli thinks I’m such a good girlfriend, so loyal, so hardworking. If only he knew I’ve been on my knees for his best friend every day for two weeks.” Her laugh is breathless now as y/n’s pace increases. “FUCKK!!! That was so hot today – having to rush from your bed to meet him, your cum still leaking down my thighs while I hugged him. And then coming right back to you. GODD!! I’m such a whore for your cock and you y/n daddy!”

Lisa wraps her legs tighter around y/n’s waist,

(LIKE THIS)

Pulling him deeper inside her. Her pussy makes obscene sounds of squelch, squelch, squelch with each thrust, evidence of just how aroused and wet she is by their betrayal. Her medium and perfect sized boobs,

bounce with the force of his movements, his brutal thrusts, nipples hard and visible with through the fabric of her black top that she hasn’t even bothered to remove. There’s something primal and desperate in the way she moves against him, these past hours apart have been torture for her, as she needs this – needs him – more than air. The knowledge that she’s betraying Eli, that she’s choosing y/n and his cock over her relationship, that she’s lying and manipulating the man who loves her – it all combines into a potent aphrodisiac that has her teetering on the edge of orgasm already,

“GODDD, I’ve been such a bad girl,” she moans, her accent thickening as pleasure builds withing her. “This morning when you bent me over the kitchen counter…

( IMAGINE THOSE BOXES AS THE KITCHEN COUNTER PLEASE 😭)

“and fucked me raw, and then after wringing out an orgasm out of me in that position, you switched again, placing me on the sink and then fucking me there again…

“I almost came just thinking about how I’d be kissing him with the same lips that had your cum on them hours earlier.” Her eyes roll back slightly as y/n hits a particularly sensitive spot inside her. “FUCK!!! RIGHT THERE!!! Your cock fills me so much better than his ever could. He thinks he satisfies me, but he has no idea I need to get properly fucked by a real man.” Her words are deliberately cruel, each syllable punctuated by the slap of skin against skin as y/n pounds into her traitorous body. “Two whole weeks, I’ve been your personal slut, coming here every fucking day, letting you use every hole while he waited patiently for me to ‘finish work’. What a fucking fool.”

“You know what’s funny??” she gasps between thrusts, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper even though they’re alone. “He actually asked if he could come to the studio with me tonight. Can you imagine? If I hadn’t made up that story about the producer, he might have followed me right to your door. Watched me knock and beg for your cock like the desperate slut I am.” Her eyes gleam with dangerous excitement at the thought. “Maybe someday we should let him see. Let him watch while you fuck his girlfriend better than he ever could. Would you like that, y/n? to fuck me right in front of your bestfriend, show him what a whore his precious lily really is? To show him that you own his Lisa now?”

Lisa’s hands snakes between their bodies to rub her swollen clit as y/n continues his relentless pace. Her other hand reaches for her phone on the nightstand, a wicked idea forming in her lust-addled mind. With practiced ease, she unlocks it and opens the camera, angling it to capture y/n’s magnificent cock disappearing completely into her pussy. The betrayal excited her beyond reason, her walls clenching tighter around him at the thought of how forbidden this is. “Should we send him a little preview of what his girlfriend really does when she’s ‘working late’? or the preview of how her girlfriend helped him repay his ‘debt’?” she suggests with a malicious giggle that transforms into a moan as y/n thrusts particularly deep. “Or maybe daddy we should just keep torturing him, letting him think he’s enough for me when we both know I need your cock to truly satisfy me. GODDD!!!, being such a two-faced bitch makes me so fucking wet. I love how he has absolutely no idea that his best friend has been fucking his girlfriend senseless for weeks in return for the debt. It’s so fucking hott daddy y/n!!!”

Lisa’s eyes gleam with wicked delight as y/n recounts their arrangement, her hips never stopping their rhythmic movements against his thrusting cock. Her lips curl into a cruel smile, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure courses through her body. Her body responding to each precise thrust that hits her g-spot with practices accuracy as y/n in this two weeks have thoroughly explored Lisa’s pussy, he knows all of her sweet spots and even if he don’t know one he makes one inside her pussy with his cock. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulders as she throws her head back, exposing the elegant column of her neck, her throat that has been reshaped by y/n in the last 2 weeks.

Her black hairs splayed across the pillow in stark contrast to her flushed skin. The sound of their bodies meeting fills the room – wet, obscene slaps that only fuel her arousal further.

“GOD, YESSS!!!” she moans, her thai accent thick with lust as she recalls that fateful day. “I remember walking into that restaurant hands in hands with you after getting such a delicious kiss from you on the road just outside the restaurant. Eli though, like I was just meeting my boyfriend’s best friend for an innocent dinner. Poor Eli was so worried about his debt to you.”

She laughs breathlessly as y/n hits her g-spot, making her whole body shudder. A particular deep thrust makes her gasp, momentarily losing her train of thoughts before continuing with cruel amusement dancing in her eyes. “He had no idea I was going to offer my body as payment. FUCKKK!!!! JUST RIGHT THERE DADDDDYYYY!!!! I was already wet before I even sat down, imagining what it would be like to fuck you behind his back.”

Lisa laughter is musical but laced with malice as she recalls that first night, her pussy clenching around y/n’s cock at the memory. She reached between them to rub her swollen clit, her movement becoming more frantic as she approaches her peak. The betrayal – the sheer audacity of fucking her boyfriend’s best friend – adds a forbidden thrill that makes every sensation more intense, more addictive. Her body arches beneath y/n’s, her perfect boobs bouncing with each powerful thrust. Her pussy clenches tightly around y/n’s cock at the memory, her back arching off the bed as she continues her confession. The wet, obscene sounds of their fucking fill the room – slap, slap, slap – punctuated by her increasingly desperate moans. Lisa’s hairs is splayed across the pillow, her makeup beginning to smudge from sweat and exertion, yet she looks more beautiful in her depravity than she ever does on stage with makeup.

“Remember how I pretended to be hesitant at first??LoL!” she gasps, her words broken by pleasure. “Acting all shocked when you gave me the agreement papers ‘work off Eli’s debt with my body?’ such bullshit – I was already planning to fuck you before I even arrived. MMMM!!!! FUCKKKK OH FUCKKK DADDDDY FU—C---K JUST RIGHT THEREEEE!!!!!!” her eyes rolls back momentarily as y/n adjusts his angle, hitting deeper inside her. “And then when we got back to your place… god, I didn’t even wait to get to the bedroom. Had your cock in my mouth right in the hallway while Eli was texting me, asking how my meeting is going.” She laughs again, the sounds transforming into a moan. “I told him it went great, that the meeting was really good, while I was literally choking on your big magnificent cock. That might have been the wettest my pussy has ever been till that day, but after that ofcourse it had been even more wet just with you my daddy.” Her eyes lock with his, dark with desire and shared conspiracy. “And now look at us – I’ve been lying to him for two whole weeks, telling him I’m in the studio recording when really I’ve been here, legs spread,

for his best friend. FUCKKKK!!!!! The way he looked at me today with those trusting eyes while your cum was still inside me from this morning… it’s so wrong but it makes me so fucking wet.”

Lisa’s hands snakes between their bodies again, rubbing furious circles on her clit as y/n continues his relentless pace. Her other hand reaches up to grab the headboard, giving her leverage to meet his thrusts with equal force. The bed creaks beneath them, the sound a rhythmic accompaniment to their forbidden liaison. There’s something almost performative in the way she moves – the perfect arch of her back, the calculated tilt of her head – as if she’s putting on a show even now, even when there’s no audience but her daddy y/n.

“And Eli is still so fucking grateful to you,” she continues, her voice dripping with malice and arousal in equal measure. “He keeps saying what a good friend you are for forgiving his debt, how lucky he is to have you in his life. If only he knew you’ve been balls deep in his girlfriend every single day since then. That I’ve been coming here straight from dance practice, still sweaty, just begging for your cock. That sometimes I don’t even shower after you cum inside me before going home to him.” Her pussy spasms around y/n’s length at this admission, her arousal visibly increasing with each cruel word. “Its so fucking hot, knowing I’m full of your cum while he kisses mee, while he tells me how much he love me. God, I am such a fucking whore for you, Y/N. your personal little Thai slut, betraying her boyfriend with every thrust of your cock. and the best part? I don’t feel guilty at all. Not even a little bit. In fact…” she locks eyes with y/n, her gaze burning with lust and something darker “- I think I’m so fallen in love with your cock and you more than I ever loved him.”

The pace of their fucking intensifies, y/n’s cock driving into her with renewed vigor as they revel in their shared betrayal. Lisa’s body trembles on the edge of orgasm, her perfectly toned dancer’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist to pull him deeper. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds with each thrust, ‘squelch, squelch, squelch’ evidence of just how aroused their cruel game makes her. She reaches for her phone again, this time opening her messages to Eli with one hand while the other continues working her clit. “Should I text him right now? Tell him the recording session is going well while in reality you’re balls deep in his girlfriend’s pussy? God, he’s probably sitting at home right now, so proud of his hardworking girlfriend, when really I’m just a filthy cheating whore who can’t get enough of his best friend’s cock. Poor, clueless Eli – so dedicated, so loving, so fucking boring in the bed compared to you. MMMMM, FUCK ME HARDER JUST LIKE THATTTTTT. Make me scream your name so loud that if he were outside the door, he’d know exactly what a slut his perfect Lisa really is!”

Lisa’s eyes glaze over with a mixture of lust and shameless pride as y/n recounts that fateful night, her body responding to each thrust with practiced enthusiasm. Her back aches off the bed, her black hairs sticking to her sweat-slicked skin as she revels in their shared memories of betrayal. A particular deep thrust hits her g-spot, causing her to gasp and momentarily lose her mind before she continues with renewed fervor. Her body writhes beneath him, accepting each brutal thrust with hungry enthusiasm, her pussy clenching around his shaft as if trying to milk him of every drop. She runs her tongue across her lower lip, tasting the remnants of her own lipstick, smudged from their passionate kisses.

“GODD, YES!!!!!! I remember that night so clearly,” she moans, her Thai accent thickening with each word. “I was so fucking horny I couldn’t even wait until we finished dinner. Had to go to the bathroom and touch myself just thinking about what was going to happen.” Her pussy clenches around y/n’s cock at the memory, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “And that kiss outside the restaurant… mmmmmm, fuck! I didn’t even know it was you at first, but my body responded instantly. I was so wet by the time we got to your place, my pussy was practically dripping down my thighs. Poor Eli thought I was just being a good girlfriend, helping him out of debt which I did so, but I found my true purpose in life doing so which is serving you my y/n.” she laughs cruelly, the sound transforming into a moan as y/n hits deeper inside her.

“Best fucking idea I ever had,” she gasps, her words broken by pleasure. “Offering my body to repay his debt… mmm, fuck… who knew I’d discover what real fucking feels like?? Eli could never, ever make me feel the way you do. The way you took control of my orgasm by day four of our first week… god, that was so hot!!!” her pussy spasms around y/n’s length at this admission. A particularly deep thrust makes her gasp, momentarily losing her train of thoughts before continuing with cruel amusement dancing in her eyes. “remember how you edged me for hours until I was begging, crying, promising I’d be your good little slut forever if you’d just let me cum? And now I can’t even orgasm without your permission. My pussy belongs to you completely.” y/n reaches between them to rub her swollen clit, making her movements more frantic. “FUCKKKKK!!!!! Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!! I need to cum so badly, please, daddy, please let your little thai whore cum on your cock. I’ve been such a good girl, betraying my bf every day just to feel you inside me.”

The pace of their fucking intensifies, y/n’s cock driving into her with renewed vigor as they revel in their shared betrayal. Lisa’s body trembles on the edge of orgasm. The bed creaks beneath them, the sound a rhythmic accompaniment to their forbidden liaison. Lisa’s body trembles as y/n increases his pace, her nipples hard and sensitive against the cool air. The familiar tension builds within her core, that desperate need for release that only y/n can grant her now. Her eyes lock with his, pleading and desperate despite the cruel words still flowing from her lips.

 “You’ve completely ruined me for him,” she confesses, her voice a breathless mixture of pride and desperation. “Every time he touches me now, I have to close my eyes and pretend it’s you just to get wet. Sometimes I call him from your bathroom, telling him I’m working late while you’re fucking me from behind. The way he says he misses me while I’m choking back moans… fuck, it’s so wrong but it makes me feel so alive.” Her eyes rolls back. “I’m not even his girlfriend anymore – I’m just your personal thai fucktoy who happens to live with him.” She locks eyes with y/n, her gaze burning with lust and something darker, “Please, y/n, daddy, my master,” she whimpers, her voice suddenly vulnerable and needy, so different from her usual confident stage persona. “Tell me I can cum. I need to hear you say it. My body won’t let me release without your permission anymore. You’ve ruined my so good – Eli could fuck me for hours and I wouldn’t cum once because my pussy only responds to your know. Isn’t that fucked up? HIS GIRLFRIEND’S ORGASM BELONG TO HIS BESTFRIEND.” Her words dissolve into incoherent moans as y/n continues his relentless assault on her g-spot, her body hovering on the precipice of ecstasy, waiting for the command that will send her over the edge. “Please, please, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee let your cheating whore cum on your cock. I need it so badly. I’ll do anything – I’ll call him right now while you’re inside me, I’ll tell him everything, just please let me cum!!!!!”

Lisa’s eyes light up with wicked excitement at y/n’s order, her pussy clenching around his cock at the sheer audacity of what they’re about to do. Without hesitation, she reaches for her phone on the nightstand, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation and the building pressure of her denied orgasm. She pulls up Eli’s contact and hits call, putting it on speaker as y/n continues to pound into her mercilessly. The ringing echoes through the room, mixing with the wet slapping sounds of their bodies and Lisa’s barely contained moans. she bites her lip hard, drawing blood as she struggles to compose herself, transforming back into the sweet, professional girlfriend Eli believe her to be in the seconds before he answer.

“H- hey baby!” she manages, her voice higher than normal as y/n deliberately slows his pace to deep, grinding thrust that hit her g-spot with precision. “Just got a quick b-break from recording and wanted to hear your voice. How’s your evening going??” her free hand grips y/n’s shoulder desperately, nails digging into his skin as he mouths ‘GOOD GIRL’ at her, rewarding her performance with a particular deep thrust that makes her eyes roll back. She covers the phone briefly to let out a silent gasp before returning to the conversation. “The P-producers are working me so hard tonight, but the track is coming along amazingly. You’ll be so proud when you hear it.”

As he speak on the other end, telling her about his evening. Lisa locks eyes with y/n, a silent plea in her gaze as he continues his relentless assault on her senses. Her body is wound tight like a spring, desperate for release that only y/n can grant. The forbidden thrill of speaking to Eli while his best friend’s cock stretches her pussy has her on the edge of madness. Sweat beads on her forehead, her black long hairs now damp and clinging to her flushed skin. She bites into the pillow beside her head to muffle a moan when y/n reaches between them to rub her swollen clit in tight circles.

“I m-miss you too, Eli,” she manages to say, the lie flowing easily from lips that have betrayed him countless times. “But this is such a big opportunity… the producers think this could be my b-biggest hit yet.” Her voice catches as y/n increases his pace, the bed beginning to creak dangerously beneath them. She quickly covers it with a fake cough. “Sorry, my throat’s a bit sore from all the takes. Listen, I should get back soon – they’re only giving me ten minutes.” Her eyes widen in panic and pleasure as y/n mouths ‘BEG ME’ while continuing to thrust into her, his hand still working her clit with expert precision. She covers the phone again, whispering desperately, “Please let me cum, please, I need it so badlyyyyyyy!!!!” before retuning to the call with practiced composure. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay? Don’t wait up though… it might be really late before I finish.”

As soon as Eli say goodbye, Lisa barely manages to end the call before throwing the phone aside and arching her back off the bed, her composure shattering completely. The mask of the sweet girlfriend falls away instantly, replaced by the wanton, cheating slut she truly is with y/n. her legs wrap tighter around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper as she claws at his back. “Please, I did it, I fooled him completely while you fucked me. Now please, PLEASEEEEEEEE let me cum on your cock!!!!! I can’t take it anymore!!!!” she begs shamelessly. Her pussy is dripping, clenching rhythmically around y/n’s shaft as she hovers on the precipice of what promises to be an earth – shattering orgasm. The betrayal, the deception, the sheer wrongness of it al has heightened every sensation to an almost unbearable degree. Her eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust as she waits for the command that will send her spiraling into ecstasy – permission that belongs to y/n now, just like every other part of her that was supposed to be Eli’s alone.

y/n orders Lisa to call Eli again and this time have a double meaning conversation with him.

Lisa’s body is a live wire, thrumming with a mixture of unreleased pleasure and the intoxicating thrill of y/n’s order. Her breath hitches, a gasp caught in her throat, but her eyes, wide and dark with desire, fix on y/n with a desperate, almost feral gleam. The thought of calling Eli again, of weaving another web of lies while y/n’s cock relentlessly punishes her pussy, sends a fresh wave of heat coiling low in her belly. Her fingers, slick with her own arousal and y/n’s pre cum, trembles ass she fumbles for her phone, her entire being focused on the precipice of an orgasm that y/n cruelly hold just out of reach. She finds Eli’s contact, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, the anticipation almost unbearable. As the phone rings, y/n’s hips don’t miss a beat; his thrusts become even more savage, a deliberate attempt to shatter her composure, each impact sending jolts of forbidden pleasure through her. She bites down hard on her lower lip, tasting blood, ass she forces her voice into a semblance of normalcy when Eli answers.

“B-baby! Hi! Oh my god, you won’t believe this,” she pants, trying to make it sound like she’s out of breath from rushing. “The lights just went out in the whole studio! Some kind of power surge, I guess. So, another unexpected break for me.” y/n grins wickedly, his eyes glinting as he slams into her, forcing a choked gasp from her. She quickly covers the microphone, her eyes wide with panic and exhilaration, before continuing. “Yeah, it’s… it’s pretty chaotic here. Everyone’s running around. I just wanted to… to feel your presence, you know? It’s so dark and… and I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed with how… intensely everything is happening tonight.” Her voice cracks as y/n grinds down, hitting her g-spot with unerring precision. She arches her back, her nails digging into y/n’s sweat-slicked shoulders. The sounds of their bodies colliding are loud, wet, and undeniable. She can hear Eli asking what that noise is. “OH, that? That’s just… uh… some of the crew trying to move heavy equipment in the dark! Yeah, they’re really… pounding away at it. It’s… it’s quite a deep sound, isn’t it? They’re really filling up the spaces with effort.” Her eyes roll back as y/n’s pace quickens, his thrusts becoming a blur of motion, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She’s gasping openly now, her carefully constructed lies starting to frey. “I’m getting so… so worked up here, baby. This whole session has been… incredibly… penetrating. I feel like I’m about to… to just… explode with all this creative energy!” suddenly, y/n’s voice, deep and commanding, cuts through the air, loud enough for the phone to pick up clearly. “CUM FOR ME LISA NOW!!!”

Lisa’s mind goes utterly blank. The world narrows to the feel of y/n’s cock inside her, his voice echoing in her ears, and the cataclysmic orgasm that rips through her body. A strangled scream tears from her throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy mixed with the terror of being caught. Her body convulses violently around y/n, her inner walls clenching and milking him with an intensity that steals her breath. She’s vaguely aware of Eli’s confused voice on the other end of line. “OH! OH!!! GODD!!!! Baby, I… I gotta go!!!! Someone just… just make me come to their way, and the generator is here too. Light are back! Talk later, loveyoubye!!!” she slams the end call button, her body still shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But y/n isn’t finished. His thrusts continue, hard and deep, stoking the embers of her climax, pushing her into wave after wave of pleasure. Her vision blurs, tears of ecstasy streaming down her face as she clings to him, completely undone. “Y-y-y/nnnnn… OH FUCKKKK… YOU…. YOU MADE ME….. HE HEARD…. HE HEARD YOU…..” she gasps, her voice a wrecked whisper, her body still bucking against his as she relentlessly prolongs her orgasm, driving her further into a state of mindless bliss and utter depravity. “He… he must know…. But…. OH GODDDDDDDDD, it felt…. SO GOOOOOOD….. FUCK…. DON’T SSTOP….. PLEASEEEEEEE…. KEEP GOING….. KEEP MAKING ME CUM LIKE THIS……. FUCKKKKK MORE AHHHH HARDERRRRRRRR!!!!”

As dawn’s first light filters through the blinds, Lisa’s body lies sprawled across y/n’s bed, a testament to their night of debauchery. Her hair, now a tangled mess, sticks to her sweat-slicked skin, and her makeup is smeared beyond recognition. Her limbs feels like lead, muscles aching in places she didn’t know could ache, yet a satisfied smile plays across her swollen lips. The sheets beneath her are soaked with their combined fluids – evidence of countless orgasms that have left her in this deliciously broken state. She shift slightly, wincing as the movement sends aftershocks of pleasure pain through her oversesitized body.

“Fuck, y/n” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, hoarse from hours of screaming his name. “I don’t think I can move… you’ve completely destroyed me darling.” A weak laugh escapes her as she recalls the night’s events – being bent over the kitchen counter, pressed against the shower wall, taken on the hallway passage floor,

Each position more intense then the last. Her pussy throbs at the memory, somehow still hungry despite the thorough claiming it has endured. “Eli is going to notice something’s wrong when I can barely walk into the studio later. What am I supposed to tell him? That I had an intense dance practice? LoL” The thought of her boyfriend’s cluelessness sends another wicked thrill through her body, making her inner walls clench around nothing.

Lisa reaches for her phone, checking the time with bleary eyes. Several missed calls and messages from Eli illuminate the screen – concerned texts asking if she got home safely after her late night recording session. A cruel smile curves her lips as she types out a response with trembling fingers : “Sorry babe, fell asleep as soon as I got home. Exhausted from working so hard all night. Can’t wait to see you later.” The lie comes so easily now, after two weeks of constant deception. She sets the phone down and turns to y/n, who watches her with that predatory gaze that never fails to make her wet.

“You know what’s fucked up?” she says, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Part of me wants him to find out. I want to see his face when he realizes his precious gf has been nothing but a cock-hungry slut for his best friend. I want him to know that while he was waiting patiently for me, respecting my ‘career’ I was on my knees begging you to fill me with cum.” Her hand travels lower, finding y/n’s semi hard cock and giving it a gentle squeeze. “But then another part of me loves this game too much to end it. The thrill of looking him in the eyes, knowing your cum is still dripping down my thighs… god, it makes me so fucking wet. Makes me feel so powerful, you know? Like I’m living this secret life he could never imagine his ‘perfect Lisa’ capable of.”

Lisa’s phone buzzes again – another message from Eli, this time saying he’s bringing coffee to her apartment in an hour as a surprise. Her eyes widen momentarily before that familiar wicked gleam returns. She shows the message to y/n, her pussy clenching at the dangerous possibility forming in her mind. “What do you think, daddy?? Should I let you fuck me one more time before I go? Leave your scent all over me so when he hugs his sweet, innocent girlfriend, he’s actually smelling the woman who just had his best friend’s cock down her throat? Or maybe…” she bites her lip, the most depraved idea yet forming in her lust-addled mind. “Maybe you should come over too. Tell you were in the neighborhood. Watch him kiss me hello, knowing exactly where these lips have been all night. Fuck, the thought of being caught between you two – one who knows exactly what a whore I am and one who has no idea – its making me wet all over again. Please, y/n tell me I can cum one more time before I have to go back to pretending I’m his faithful girlfriend.

( a/n - feeling better now with my health will post the request stories with next week. thank you for waiting 🥰 )

[shotofstress]

Coming back after being almost a week without electricity, phone, and internet connection. Huge storms with lightning and rain, and winds. We have never have winds like that here and the roof of so many houses were ripped off, stuff flying, etc. All this bc global warming, and the deforestation and mining in our lands. At this rate, in 5 years we will have tornadoes, a thing we have never ever have here (edit: 25th may 2025 the first tornado, in the middle of a town at the south of the country, we are fucked). Nor our lands, infrastructures, states, and culture are prepared for this. Areas of the country are devastated, ppl have died, many are without electricity nor Internet connection so they are isolated. The houses are flooding with water, and the ones that not, are leaking from the ceiling. Too many neighbours and compatriots don't have roofs and the streets are full of fallen trees and pieces of roof material, no electricity, no signal, food rotting, but suffering at the same time for the cold of this terrible winter, and trying to do something, patching even when its gonna go to hell when the storm comes again this next days. More than 33,200 people affected and 41,500 isolated due to 5 days of rain and windstorms. In just a couple of days there were 170,000 homes left without power due to wind and rainstorms and even more as time went by.

If u want to help me to fix the roof, walls, to buy food and being warm this winter please check my PayPal. If u can't donate, please reblog bc thats the only way to make this being seen by ppl thus receiving help. I'm really not being able to keep living like this, i can no longer cope, so please share.

Here are in my PayPal or MACH . I took the kofi link bc they were charging me a fee.

Please, educate about global warming and the effects on Global South, specially for working class, chronically ill, autistic, disable, and long covid survivor ppl like myself.

Edit: I added links and pics

Edit: the weather is better (is finally spring at this current date 24th nov), but I still need to fix were I live/sleep bc the walls are broken and one of the walls is not a wall, but like 1cm wide stuff and all was bad build so even the door is twisted and dont work correctly, there is black mold that i think is damaging my ears, the paint is falling, the lamp has fallen, everything is broken and ugly, etc. I still need to buy food, meds, and everything so please, please, share or donate if you could. I don't want to survive like this and here, no one mask even when they were the ones giving me covid and they have making me also catch flu the other day bc they cogh over everything and don't care if they kill me, they are abusive and really violent people and are working to put me and everyone in danger. I dont even want to be in my country bc we will have a dictatorship soon, but I have nowhere else to go nor money to migrate (i need like $10.537 dollars or € 9.760,95 euros to pay all the documents, the bank money I have to show to prove I am a human being deserver of rights, the tickets, rent money and stuff to migrate).

I currently (date 14 Jan 2025) have $100 dollars donated (coz i spent 40 in food and meds this past month)

I know i will die here, but at least help me to survive in a less dehumanising way.

Edit: tumblr has blocked me from recive or send messages from the chat and comment of posts, so if you are trying to reach throughout there I can't see it, sorry, I'm cut from any communication (cant even see past messages from chat or asks), except send asks. I'm waiting that tumblr do something, but still hasn't even answered the help file I sent to them.

[douqhnxtss]

☾︎⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖥔 ❝ 닝닝¡ 에스파! ❞ 𖥔 ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

──── [✿︎] 「닝닝」 ᯾ 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝓝𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝓨𝑰𝒁𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 clingy girlfriend.

✦ love overload, ceo!reader, bakery owner!yizhou, fluff, reader has a HUGE soft spot, yizhou is SO down bad ୨ৎ girlfriend!yizhou × fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟ

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ new layout how we feeling chat? lmk what u think! I LOVE THIS i hope yall love this and the redamancy × redamancy archives series as much as I do! + this is for the ning to my rina aka @bambisnc .. is this us? likes n reblogs are appreciated<3 𓂃⋆.˚

☘︎ REDAMANCY ARCHIVES.ᐟ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝓜𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𖥔˖ 𝓖𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑿𝒀 ᯓ✦ 𝓤𝑵𝑰𝓥𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬 !

────⋆.˚✮🎬✮˚.⋆────────⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆────

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who needs to have your arms around her to function. the second your arm detaches from her waist to attend a call etc, she's whining. your embrace gives her warmth that she craves every second of the day.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who refuses to get up in the morning, not letting you pull your hands from their place on her hips. she gives you her doe cat eyes, whines incoherent phrases in chinese and lightly hits your shoulder in an attempt to make you not leave.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who always pulls you down by the tie of your suit before you leave for work, giving you a soft kiss as a lucky charm for you, and her, and she happens to find pulling you down to her level romantic.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who jumps up into your arms as soon you enter the front door of your apartment, her scent overwhelming your senses in the best way.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who wears your clothes more than she wears her own. she loves your warmth, smell and feel, something your clothes can provide. your hoodies are more for her and less for you.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who hates being shorter than you. she hates it because she has to pull you to her level to kiss you and she has to call you over when you purposefully place jars on the upper cabinets.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who at the same time loves being shorter than you. there's something about the way your head snugly rests on top of hers when she's cooking and how her body fits perfectly with yours, like you're eachothers final puzzle piece.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who can never get enough of your face. you don't even have to do anything, your forever dark, lovesick and sharp eyes are enough to get her gushing over you. not to mention her obsession with your lips.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who texts you every hour. if you don't reply within twenty minutes, she's throwing a tantrum. it's obviously playful, she's just a very easily touch-deprived person who needs her girlfriend way too much.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who brings you her experiments and bakery goods every two to three days. whatever she makes, whether it's the most delectable sweet you've tasted or the most diabolical piece of treat, you'll always praise her like she just fixed global warming.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who lives to show you off. her girl is pretty, and handsome, so the world needs to know about it. couple photos, photos of flowers and gifts you've given her, your hands, she loves your hands, she has you and she'll make sure everyone knows it.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who doesn't let you work in peace at home. you need to get a last project done, but she could care less. her existence demands attention and she'll make sure you give it to her.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU whose second home is not her bakery that she built from scratch, no, it's your lap. her face resting on your chest, your arms protectively around her when doing whatever you're doing, she's happy.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who's the most spoiled girlfriend on the earth in her mind. she could've just stated an item or restaurant's name in a plain conversation, however next thing she knows, she has the item or she's on a date with you.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who loves playing with your hair. she twists the strands in between her fingers, styles it in different ways and runs her hand through it. you don't say anything, simply letting her engage in her weird hair shenanigans, as long as she's full of joy, you're the happiest girl in the world.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU for whom you're a tad bit, correction: very very much, whipped for. she has you so helplessly wrapped around her lean fingers, you're unconditionally in love with her, so is she, hence came the name redamancy.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU whose day doesn't start until she gets her morning kisses from you. you leave early one day before she wakes up and she doesn't get her kisses? she's redeeming them at night. with her, affection is everything and you don't mind. not one bit.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who makes it a tradition to merely hold eachother for who knows how long on weekends. soft lingering kisses, hushed love yous and the essence of love in the air make it easy to relax after a long week.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who writes a little note and puts it in your lunchbox she made for work. she scribbles encouragement phrases, writes how much she loves you, notes how she hopes you like the chinese dish she made with her mom's recipe for the first time, ofcourse you like it, heck you love it.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who gets you to use your designing skills and creative mind to draft nail designs for her. she doesn't care if it's not her style, since you made it, it's the best set of nails ever.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who sometimes tries to come off as nonchalant when both of you know she's the pure juxtaposition of it. she'll try to play things off but her façade slips easily and she's then back to your super chalant girlfriend.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU whose the only person who can physically show you affection. you normally draw the line with clients at hugging, resorting to handshakes and tight lipped smiles. with your friends, they stare at you until you choose to lean in and give an awkward hug, although as soon as yizhou pops in the equation, a switch flips. you're all hers to kiss and hug and show affection to.

CLINGY GF!YIZHOU who's bold, but also sweet and adorable. you love it. you'll always love your girl, your forever, your yizhou, your clingy girlfriend.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

𓆩♡𓆪 taglist! @bambisnc @spidrgamer

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ regulars! @woniefication @shyoko

Douqhnxtss © 20052025 — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. do not edit, translate, repost or plagiarize any of my work !

[laurentpark]

don’t tell my boyfriend! — [16] glow

synopsis. where jimin stalks her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend after a certain incident happened and couldn’t help but grow hatred over her. coincidentally, her and jimin happen to be global ambassadors of the same famous luxury brand and have to work together for a commercial. at first, jimin despised the girl with all her flesh and bones but soon understands why her boyfriend fell for the young actress in the first place… because she was starting to fall for the young actress as well.

warning: slightly suggestive.

the cameras have finally stopped rolling for the last time, and the energy on set is electric with relief. the crew is scattered across the studio, laughing, packing up equipment, and exchanging congratulations on a job well done. the commercial that had taken weeks to shoot is officially complete.

but feels none of the relief that seems to flood the room. instead, there’s an odd tightness in her chest, a strange mix of restlessness and dread that she can’t quite shake.

because this is it. the last day. the last time she’ll share the same space with y/n like this.

the thought twists in her gut.

she slips away from the crowd, heels clicking softly against the polished concrete floor as she steps into one of the quieter corners of the studio. the lounge area is empty now, the warm, ambient lighting casting long shadows on the plush couches and glass coffee table.

jimin sinks onto one of the couches, kicking off her heels and rubbing her aching feet. the silence here feels almost deafening compared to the noise outside, but it’s exactly what she needs.

or so she thinks.

“hiding out?”

her head snaps up, and there she is—y/n, standing in the doorway, framed by the glow of the studio lights behind her. she’s still in her givenchy outfit, the crisp fabric hugging her frame in all the right ways. her hair is slightly tousled, her makeup worn just enough to soften the sharp edges of her beauty.

jimin swallows hard and forces herself to look away, pretending to fuss with the strap of her heel. “not hiding. just… taking a break.”

y/n steps inside, the sound of her footsteps light against the carpeted floor. “thought i’d find you here. you’ve been avoiding the crowd all day.”

“just not in the mood for the whole ‘congratulations, we made it’ thing,” jimin replies, her voice light but clipped.

y/n hums, setting a takeaway cup of iced americano on the table in front of jimin. “here. figured you could use it.”

jimin raises an eyebrow, picking up the cup. “are you trying to butter me up for something?”

y/n smirks, settling onto the couch across from her. “what would i even have to butter you up for? you killed it today.”

jimin takes a sip, letting the bitterness of the coffee ground her. “guess i’ll find out soon enough.”

silence stretches between them for a moment, broken only by the distant hum of voices and equipment being packed up. jimin keeps her gaze fixed on her drink, but she can feel y/n’s eyes on her, watching her with that quiet intensity that always sets her on edge.

finally, y/n speaks, her tone softer now. “so… this is it, huh?”

jimin glances up, frowning. “what do you mean?”

“last day,” y/n says simply, leaning back against the couch. “no more shoots, no more meetings. we won’t be working together anymore after today.”

jimin’s stomach sinks. she knew this already, of course. but hearing y/n say it out loud makes it feel too real.

“you’re really just going to leave like that?” jimin says, her voice sharper than she intended.

y/n tilts her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “what do you mean, like that? we’ve wrapped the project. there’s no reason for me to stick around.”

jimin sits up straighter, her brow furrowing. “no reason?”

y/n raises an eyebrow. “what’s this about, jimin?”

jimin opens her mouth, ready to deflect with some quip or excuse, but the words catch in her throat. instead, she finds herself blurting out something else entirely.

“i know about you and jaewook.”

y/n freezes. her expression doesn’t betray much, but jimin catches the brief flicker of surprise in her eyes.

“oh,” y/n says quietly.

“yeah,” jimin replies, crossing her arms. “oh.”

y/n exhales, leaning forward slightly. “so you know. okay. and?”

jimin narrows her eyes. “and? you didn’t think it was worth mentioning that you used to date my boyfriend?”

“no,” y/n says simply, her tone calm but firm. “because it didn’t feel relevant. i’m not the one still involved with him. you are.”

the bluntness of her words stings, but jimin doesn’t back down. “so you thought it was fine to just… hang out with me? knowing how complicated this is?”

y/n shrugs, holding jimin’s gaze. “you’re the one who agreed to lunch, jimin. and if i’m being honest… i just wanted to get to know you.”

jimin blinks, caught off guard. “why?”

a faint smile plays on y/n’s lips. “because you’re interesting. and maybe because… you’re kind of hard to ignore.”

jimin feels her heart stutter, heat rising in her chest. she hates how easily y/n can disarm her like this, how her calm confidence always seems to tilt the balance of power between them.

“you’re unbelievable,” jimin mutters, though her voice lacks conviction.

y/n leans back, crossing her legs. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

jimin lets out a shaky laugh, shaking her head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here you are,” y/n replies, her tone light but pointed.

the tension between them is almost suffocating now, the air heavy with everything unsaid. jimin glances at the door, making sure it’s still closed before standing up and taking a steps closer to y/n.

“you’re really just going to leave without saying you’ll miss me?” jimin asks, her voice low and teasing.

y/n stares at her, startled. “what?”

jimin doesn’t give her a chance to respond. she leans in, her lips brushing against y/n’s in a kiss that’s soft but deliberate, lingering just long enough to leave no room for misinterpretation.

the kiss was soft but firm. jimin’s lips moved gently against y/n’s as though she was savoring the moment. the actress could feel the heat of jimin’s body pressed against her own, the way her fingers dug into the curve of her hip as if trying to hold her as close as possible.

suddenly, jimin’s hand was on her jaw. tilting her head up slightly to deepen the kiss. the feeling of her tongue slipping inside of her mouth was intoxicating, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine and eliciting a soft gasp from her.

when jimin pulls back, her voice is barely above a whisper. “don’t tell jaewook.”

y/n’s eyes widen, her expression a mix of shock and something else jimin can’t quite name.

“don’t tell my boyfriend.” the idol repeats, her voice now becoming pleading. her hand was still on y/n’s hip, her thumb absentmindedly tracing small, circular motions on the skin exposed there. there was a certain wicked gleam in her eyes, a mischievous glimmer that sent shivers down y/n's spine.

y/n swallows hard, her breath shaky as she takes a small step back. “you’re playing a dangerous game, jimin.”

jimin tilts her head, her smirk unwavering. “maybe. but didn’t you say i killed it today?”

y/n exhales, shaking her head with a mix of disbelief and something else jimin doesn’t dare name. “you’re impossible.”

time seems to blur after that—quiet laughs, stolen touches, and a closeness jimin can’t bring herself to pull away from. by the time they step out of the room, the rest of the crew is still bustling around, oblivious to what just happened behind closed doors.

as they walk side by side toward the exit, one of the crew members glances up and tilts their head. “you’re both glowing more than usual today. did something happen?”

jimin and y/n exchange a glance, their expressions carefully neutral.

“must be the lighting,” jimin says smoothly, her lips twitching into a small, knowing smile.

y/n bites back a laugh, nudging jimin’s shoulder as they continue walking, their secret safely tucked away—for now.

prev. next. masterlist

tags. @xen248 @szooo @yunalvrrr @yeetaberry127 @lisaswifey @gtfoiydlyj j @c-yerim @jeindall777 @multiliker @hyejin67 @cwpiqwon @sunshinez4 @yoontoonwhs @wintersgff @womanl0ver @sixflame438 @rinapomu @ahnneyong @syronns @yukianism @winieter @inybits @nctislifue @pandafuriosa60 @peranoo @ajjilhan

[viasdreams]

Nightwalker ཐི❤︎ཋྀ ~ after route: mortality

My Hyuck,

Hello my love, how are you? I hope with all my soul that you're well, but if not, just blame all your feelings on Jaemin, just like when we first met. I know these days the two of you are close but he did try to basically kill me once remember?

I would say I hope Mark got this letter to you, but I know he did. He's very reliable like that, that's exactly why I trusted him with this. I feel so at peace knowing you have people like him surrounding you. Please thank him for me.

Okay, I have to write out all my sappy feelings now so I'll try my best to be serious, even though we both know that was never my strong suit. Pardon me if I crack a few jokes in this. I'll try to keep them actually funny, don't worry. How embarrassing would it be if I was unfunny from beyond the grave?

Over the years, you asked me a few times if I wanted you to turn me. I only ever responded with a shake of the head and never gave you an explanation, not that you ever asked for one. To be honest, even now I don't really have a reason for not wanting to. It just never felt right for me. I always waited for my doubts to leave me, but they never did. I tried so hard to want it Hyuck, I really did. Sometimes I wish I just did it. I mean, I wouldn't have to write this if I turned. But, that wouldn't be fair to either of us.

Thank you for staying with me through everything. I searched for reservations in your eyes as time went on, but I never found any. Even as our public-facing relationship changed from a young couple going out to lunch to a nice young man helping an old lady cross the street, there was never a hint of regret or disappointment toward me in your gaze. Only love. So much love.

If I were given the choice to go back to any point in my life, I would go to that night by the deli so I could relive every moment with you. Every ounce of pain, physical or emotional, that I went through to be with you was worth it. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. That's something I have no doubts about.

Don't you dare read this and get all mopey okay? I know that's what you're going to want to do, but don't. Receiving this letter doesn't signify that the world ending, it's just the world changing, and that's okay. Everything's okay. You're okay.

You're the most amazing person I've ever met and I know you're going to continue to live an amazing life. Please continue living Hyuck. This is not the end. You have so much left to do, don't let my absence stop you. If not for yourself, live because I need something more entertaining to watch than Renjun and Jeno arguing in the nursing home.

I know I'm asking a lot for someone not there, but please look after Jisung for me. It hasn't happened yet, but I worry that Chenle is going to dull that boy's sparkle with his "Chenleness", so I need you to prevent that for me.

Writing this is making me reflect on my life and all my memories are overwhelmingly warm. It's not because I lived through intense global warming, although that definitely made my memories a lot sweatier. It's because of you. For such a physically cold man, you brought so much warmth into my life. My life was so happy because of you.

I love you so much Hyuck. My body might not be, but my love for you is immortal.

Thank you for experiencing life with me.

Thank you for loving me.

I love you.

Eternally,

Yn

hyuck finished reading your, now-framed, letter for the billionth time and slipped it back into his bag, careful not to crush the flowers he brought.

the weather, like it was every time he came to visit you, was sunny, making it hard for him to see his screen as he typed out a thank you text to mark. mark told him years ago that it wasn't necessary for hyuck to thank him after every readthrough of your letter, but you asked him to thank mark so that's what he was going to do. at this point, at least fifty percent of his and mark's text conversation consisted of thank yous.

with the text sent, hyuck made his way to his usual seat next to your headstone. he'd sat there so many times that the dirt had a permanent indent in the shape of his butt. he never dared fix it because he knew it would have made you laugh, if anything he tried his best to worsen the damage.

"hey beautiful," he greeted, "i got these for you."

he pulled the, slightly damaged, flowers out of his bag and switched out the ones from the last time he was there.

"i have so much to tell you, i don't even know where to start. oh let me tell you about the shit i saw jisung do-"

hyuck began, as he had done since the first time he read your letter, to tell you about how he was living his life.

masterlist ~ route two: immortality

a/n: i cried, you crew, we all crode T_T lowkey felt like i was actually on my deathbed writing to my lover </3 ALSO this isn't a bad ending at all 🙂‍↔️ sad does NAWT equal bad!! my bbys lived full happy lives, its just that now one is living for two <3

taglist (open): @miyawwn @nanaxwi @mystverse @mmoonlee @dudekiss3r @honeynanamin @haefelt @nneteyamss @iamsimplyasimp @roseangelxfuma @haechsworld @hyuck-me @catpjimin @toyoongg @sthwaaberry @kim-seungmins-gf @sunghoonsgfreal @sunflowerhae @galacticnct @slayhaechan @multifandomania @jasluvsjae @injunnie-lemon @swanyvess @hahaechans @aerivrs @kirbrary @akunoeyebrows @snowyseungs @keeryverse @alethea-moon @flaminghotyourmom @elsbunny @introvertatitsfinest @ypoom151999 @1starqi @emptynote @wonswondrland @smilefordongil @onlyforyoukook @gomdoleemyson @jaehyunandonly @kukkurookkoo @lampcults @nightcat101 @hyuckna25 @yanagisprettygf

(if the tag doesn’t go through, plz check your privacy settings ☺️)

[youaremy-parkfilter]

Something about ' you're my park filter '

I'm so random lol...my mind just went like that and Yes!

'you're my park filter' i mean this

211013 cutey sexy lovely jimin's bday. Like every others he also went live on his bday. Little boy felt little awkward since it was a long time after his life. He talked a lot...but still something was off. Like a life line option, he called jungkook to join him on his bday live. Within a fraction of time he joined too, wished him many times, even pretend to bring the cake ... the frequent hand shakes (i have no counts lol)

And when you notice, they talked like everything on the earth from him mom's kimchi to his new hairstyle-my poor boy accidentally spilled.

Then our president hobi enters, boom we got a shy jiminie there. Teases over teases..I wish I could see their faces . Only because of hobi, we got to know who prepared that cake ? Who prepared that creative caption on that cake? Hello Mr.jeon you even took that cake in your hand when you entered the studio before, did you even care to ask 'hey how is the cake, did you like it' and so on ?? No . When only jhope was curious about the lines, jungkook was fast to convey the message of that line thats jimin's birthday and jimin's solo song filter and he combined it. Thats when jimin came to know it was from jungkook. Such a warm moment imo🥹

Are words the only thing in a relationship which can convey love? What if actions can speak more than words? What if actions can bring so much warmth?

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

People are so stubborn that he didn't say this at jimin's face,that at jimin's face. People really need words !? More than 10 years and he have showed us more than enough that he care a lot about jimin. Even from their debut era, when the requirements where so not acceptable by him, he did it for the sake of doing it . That to push jimin away for fun, to make fun of him. From jimin's words we already know that jungkook used to say sorry for all these during night while the other pretend to sleep so he could listen. You think jungkook don't care ? He didn't care ? He won't care ? No, thats not the case. He is a pure soul, was a shy baby even to make eye contact with army from the beginning. As they grew up, he was inspired to be a dancer rather than a singer. He decided on that. They have discussed how jimin was shocked when he heard about this and how he wanted jungkook to be a singer, as an important member in their group like everyone. You think jungkook will never care about that person who stood always by his side day or night, ups or downs, happiness or sadness. You think Jungkook is some kind of ungreatful brat? That might be in your delulu fanfiction. In reality (what they have shown us, real reality is unknown to fans ) he seems very kind, generous, soft and care every other person. Too polite, a gentleman! So what made you think that jungkook never care about jimin ? Just tell me one reason why ? Just one !?

Keep the 'ship' aside. I never use that term to disrespect their bond. Never !

Now just think, when you say that jungkook never care about jimin, aren't you indirectly pointing out that he is a brat? An arrogant? The doe eyed boy which carry a galaxy in his eyes, who grew infront of ARMY, who claimed he loves ARMY the more - is arrogant? Is he faking?? How can you even bring this up ?? How can you ever think like that??

Whats your problem when it comes to jimin and jungkook? Why can't you digest the fact that they click each other easily. Just why ? Will it affect the rotation of earth?? Will it cause global warming 2 times more ? Just why CAN'T YOU accept the FACT ??

I want this fandom normalise jikook like every other duo ! No freaking ship !! Their bond should be respected! Their love should be valued ...

♡

i don't know how I reached this far, just talking about them and how fandom treats them fumes me like anything hahaha..

So.... My park filter, yeah ! You both deserve all the happiness and love. Keep going my loves

[widowromanova]

Sniper (part 1) - Natasha x Female Reader

warnings: mentions of violence (guns etc.)

word count: 1244

You've been trying to catch and stop Natasha for as long as you can remember; you finally see her again, after 3 years.

a/n: inspired by a prompt I saw on TT that suddenly gave me insane motivation to write

Your former work for SHIELD, coupled with the glowing recommendation Fury had written for you, had opened doors you never thought possible. High(er)-level intelligence agencies had practically lined up to recruit you, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself entrenched in a new world of operations and classified missions. Your current boss, a calculating and ambitious higher-up with ties that ran deep, had recently assigned you to a high-priority duty. The mission was clear but personal - the kind that made your pulse race and your resolve waver. After three years of chasing her, she was finally within your grasp.

Natasha Romanoff had become chaos, her cunning mind orchestrating a series of events that threatened to destroy global stability. She manipulated world leaders, sowing distrust among allies and tearing apart her long-standing professional relationships. Whispers of a bio-weapon project capable of targeting populations only added to the growing unease among those who suspected her involvement. Yet, to the public, and even some former allies, she maintained an innocent facade, always frustratingly one step ahead. She had made her plan clear to you all those years ago:

Natasha had locked her piercing gaze onto yours. "You know how bad it's gotten, Y/N. The leaders are puppets, and the people-” she paused, “they don’t even realize they’re asleep.”

“You can’t seriously believe getting rid of all of it is the answer,” you’d argued, the weight of her words settling uneasily. Her lips had curved into a faint smile, not of humour, but of certainty.

“It’s not about belief. It’s about necessity. Only through destroying one thing can we rebuild something that works. Governments, alliances - they don't work. They need to be erased.”

“Erased? Do you even know what you sound like, Natasha? And replaced with what? You?”

She paused.

“If that’s what it takes.” Her voice had been calm, no sense of hesitation, her conviction chilling. “Survival of the fittest. No corruption. No weakness.”

At the time, you’d thought it was just frustration talking, the cynical musings of someone who’d been through too much. But now, you realised she’d meant every word. Natasha wasn’t just dismantling the world’s structure - she was forging it into her vision of perfection. And you had been too blind to stop her then.

From then, you knew every move she made was deliberate - you had known her to be an incredibly smart woman ever since you met her. And of course, your history with her proved to be of convenience to organisations, though you were frequently hesitant to speak her name.

The night air was cold, the city sprawled out beneath you in a labyrinth of lights. The sniper rifle before you felt like an extension of yourself; "That sounds ridiculous," you thought, but every inch of the weapon's polished surface was familiar to you. You leaned into the scope, propped up on your elbows. Silence, broken only by the occasional hum of traffic below. You knew, of course, that Natasha would never trust anyone else to do work for her, she was after all a self-proclaimed "lone wolf" (you had always made fun of her for that). You couldn't see her yet, but you knew she was coming.

Your superior had instructed you simply: to wait, and then take the shot when you saw her. Each minute that passed, the tension in your shoulders grew, your thoughts tightening into a knot of uncertainty.

You adjusted the focus on the scope, making sure every inch of the room was visible, your pulse steady. You felt your warm breath mix with the stinging cold of the air around you, manifesting into a puff of smoke.

There you saw it, her gleaming red streaks of hair.

For a moment, the city below seemed to disappear, the noise fading into a distant hum. All that remained was the image of her, framed perfectly in your sight. Your heart beat a little faster, not from the tension of the mission, but from something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in years. The memory of her, the way she used to make you feel. You held your breath, the moment heavier than anything else you had ever done.

And then, as if she could sense your gaze, she turned. Her head shifted slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the window across the street. You froze as her eyes locked onto yours through the scope. The world blurred around her stare, and everything you had told yourself about this mission - about her - faded into the background.

She knew. The realisation hit you like a punch. She had always been sharper than anyone gave her credit for, but in this moment, it wasn’t just about strategy. It was a silent acknowledgment, that you were no longer just playing a game of cat and mouse. Her lips barely parted, as if she were about to speak - though the words never came.

The silence between you was deafening, the weight of it pressing in from all sides. You didn’t know if she would move, if she would even give you a chance to make the shot. The corner of her mouth was slowly tugged up her face, the faintest smirk forming as if she knew exactly what you were feeling: she could sense the panic radiating from your skin. Of course she knew, she always knew.

Your trigger finger twitched, the red spot on her forehead suddenly becoming painfully obvious. She slowly raised her empty hands up to the air as if to surrender, the smirk still prominent on her face. Her right hand began to form a gun shape, her fingers curling into a mock trigger, and with a playful yet mocking precision, she brought it to her temple. She paused, and then, with a small grin, mimicked pulling the trigger, the "pew" sound escaping her lips exaggeratedly. It was a cruel game of control. The image of her - carefree, taunting - causing your finger to tense on the trigger.

You watched as she lowered her hand slowly, the smirk still playing on her lips, her eyes never leaving yours. "Come on, you still have it in you, don’t you?" she taunted through the wiring in the room feeding directly to your ear, her voice a low, amused whisper.

The mockery squeezed at every nerve in your body. Every instinct told you to act, to end this, but you faltered. She was still the woman you once knew, the one who had shared everything with you, and now she was daring you to pull the trigger.

"You know where to find me," she whispered again.

In an instant, the room’s lights flickered, a low hum filling the air. Before you could react, the lights completely blackened, plunging you into suffocating darkness. The only sound that filled the silence was your own breathing, shallow and sharp, as rage set in once again. The weight of the rifle in your hands seemed heavier now as you dropped onto your arms in sudden exhaustion.

The lights flickered back to life, but the room was empty. Your heart skipped a beat as you scanned the space, your eyes darting from corner to corner. Nothing. As if she had never been there at all.

You lowered the rifle slowly. She had just given you the slip again. You clambered up, kicking your equipment out of your way in your anger.

"Fuck."

a/n: part 2 coming soon ;)) (promises of SMUT SMUT SMUT)

[meo-eiru]

Breaking my lurker status (forgive my english I don't speak the devils tongue/j)

1.-I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO SO SO MUCH PLSSS-- you write so good and you draw even better it's so fun to see a notification pop up bc it also means I can see the silly people that also like your characters just as much as I do! I find it so cute to see all the different ways people live this characters I love it💥💥

2.- I beg of thee, to spare a crumb if One Eyed monster once again (when you have time bc remember to rest, eat and drink aguita💥), I've been OBSESSED with that one since I saw your first post about him, I just find him so endearing!

Like imagine scene! He is just so head over heels over by us but be doesn't have the courage to come talk to us, but oh! What's this? We are going out of our way to talk to him? HE MUST BE DREAMING! And we are just gushing over how cute he looks with his hair covering his face bc it makes him look so tiny and sweet that we can't help but reach to touch his face and in his daze we move just a little bit of his hair and he only notices that we have seen his full face when he can see more clearer (bc having so much hair in front of your only eye must never tough) and he just PANICS-- like just completely and utterly scared that he takes off running already crying and thinking that we will never wanna see him again and that we are disgusted by him, he only stops in an alley far away to catch his breath.

But in his break down he fails to notice how we ran after him, yelling for him to stop, following him to the alley and seeing in a front row seat how he is just completely broken saying between sobs how we'll hate him now.

But we never had hated him to begin with, we found him cute at the start so we got close to him, and when we saw that big doe-eye it was like staring at the most beautiful star in the sky, we would never hate him after all.

He doesn't hear our steps towards him, he only reacts when he feels our hand lightly touch the top of his hair, his head snapping up to see who it was, his heart almost jumping out of his chest when he sees it's us, both with joy and sorrow, I mean, we are probably there to mock him right? To tell him how ugly his one eye is and to tell him we never wanna see him again, after all,

¿If not for that why else would the one person he loves more than everything be there before him after seeing his one eye?

When he only manages to babble a weak - why? Here? You...Huh...? -

But we don't say anything, we just kneel down and hug him, holding him close, letting him cry in our shoulder, with one of our hand rubbing comforting circles on his back and the other petting his hair, waiting for his cries to stop.

When they do all we say is a simple couple of words, almost got loud enough but just for him to hear, leaving his once broken heart renewed and beating so fast he feels he might have a heart attack.

- You are even more beautiful than I could ever imagine... -

Something so little to anyone else, but something so big for him that he doesn't think his fragile heart could take anything else.

But he doesn't need anything else, he only needs this,

He only needs you

(I propose the name Jade for him, ¿why?, bc when I first saw him I related him with one of my favorite gemstones💥)

-Yummy-

Oh my god this healed my soul, improved my grades, my eyes and skin are shining, world peace is happening, global warming ended and there’s no longer world hunger.

It just means so much to him, he’s so different from everyone else, he’s a monster. There’s no way you could love a creature like him who can’t even talk to you directly without exploding from nerves. He’s not handsome, he’s not charismatic, he’s not funny, he’s just a stalker who’s too pathetic to breath the same air as you.

Only thing bringing a bit of solace to him is the fantasies he has about you. Holding hands, going on dates, watching movies and cuddling, you saying you love him even if he’s a monster… Yes fantasies, such a thing can only happen in his fantasies.

So what’s happening right now? Is he dreaming? You’re so warm he can’t think straight. You think he’s beautiful? This can’t be real surely he misheard you. He can’t talk from the tears rolling down his eye. Please forgive him for getting your shoulder wet. He’s so just so, so happy right now. All he can do is hug you back and sob as he prays this is not just a dream.

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my May 2025 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Come Home to Me by aquietlarrie / @aquietlarrie (261k)

set over a decade and between differing countries, harry and louis are childhood best mates where by the life choices they'd made in their youth, inevitably end up separated from one another. harry travels the world, whilst louis stays home at uni. as ever, life has it's ways of bringing them back together, but it's never the right time for them no matter how entangled with each other they become. unconditional, and at times, frustratingly blind through sheer stubborn will, the two of them navigate their early to late twenties together until they can no longer carry on and a decision needs to be made.

or an exploration into how the ages of seventeen to your late twenties can feel anything but stable. a realistic, and sometimes confrontational deep dive into healing yourself as a whole away from the one you love the most, sprinkle in a relationship dynamic where boundaries of said friendship are blurred with codependency and jealousy, and the complexities of such emotions are explored.

Shameful Company by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (40k)

Harry remains impassive as he says, “I never said we were sleeping together.”

“But you have, right?”

He sighs heavily through his nose, figuring there’s no use in hiding it. Not if it means as little as he says it does. “Yeah. Sure. We’ve slept together.”

The smug grin is evident in Pippa’s voice. “And are you seeing other people?”

“Don’t see why we can’t. It’s not like it’s anything serious.”

Pippa hums. “Interesting.”

-

in which louis has always had clear intentions, harry has always been a bit of a brat, and it seems like everything yet nothing has changed since they broke up a few years ago. except now they're fucking.

The Orchards of Jessop by jaerie / @jaerie (15k)

At age 40, there isn’t much excitement in widower Louis Tomlinson’s life, but wasn’t that the reason he’d moved to Jessop Island in the first place? Back then he hadn’t thought retiring before he reached 30 and moving to the countryside would mean that he’d be doing it alone. Now, just to fill the space, he welcomes lodgers into his home that pass through working as temporary labourers at the orchards just up the road. They’ve all been young adults eager to start lives of their own after one last summer of freedom.

All of them have been much the same, coming and going from Louis’ house with just enough social interaction to keep the house from feeling so empty. But when a global pandemic shuts down the world, being quarantined with a quiet twenty year old who keeps to himself might turn out to be an awkward arrangement. By the time the restrictions have been lifted, their relationship has developed into something Louis isn’t quite ready to give up. With their twenty year age difference, Louis has to be prepared for the inevitable outcome when the reality shatters the private world they’ve been living in. He’s not sure he’ll be able to let it go.

Somewhere in the World There's You by eulogiseme / @eulogisemeao3 (5k)

Louis flattens the palm of his hand over Harry’s thighs, slowly curving them over the ferns that decorate his soft hips. He goes further over the smooth, hairless skin, fingers pressing down into his navel, then back up before settling to stop when his touch ghosts the sweet creature splayed upon Harry’s chest. It’s warm in a way that drives him mad—Louis can’t find this kind of warmth anywhere else in the world.

Hidden away from the world, Harry and Louis get a few days to themselves in Italy before they've got to leave each other again.

I'll Take Your Pain by suspendrs / @suspendrs (2k)

It’s kind of romantic when Harry thinks about it, feeling all the pain of the person he’s supposed to love for the rest of his life. Sure, it’s rather inconvenient when he’s in class and his soulmate gets kicked in the balls, or when he’s sleeping and his soulmate knocks his head or his knee off something. It’d be nice if the function helped them to find each other, but Harry supposes he can live with knowing that they’re destined to run into each other someday.

Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other's pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed. (Or, the soulmate au crack fic I can't believe I actually wrote.)

[goldenempyrean]

An Icy Plunge

〚 Notes - Life's been busy! New job, exams, writers block (only for sickfics too which is beyond annoying) but here's a little something which I thought of while rewatching BlackWidow an hour or so ago - I did sob at the end credits of course.. 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - As a result of falling into the icy Norwegian waters, Nat ends up getting sick as you two make your way to Budapest. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1400 〛

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“I told you we should’ve tried to get you warmed up properly.” You sighed quietly, more to yourself then anything as Nat sniffled softly. Her head resting on your shoulder as the pair of you sat at the back of a crowded train carriage. 

It had been almost 2 days since both you and Natasha were ambushed by an unknown person on your drive into town. Nat had taken the brunt of their attack, in turn, getting herself kicked off a bridge, plunging down into the icy Nordic waters below. 

She was fine for the most part, only a handful of bruises which all things considered, she got away pretty lucky. But there’d been a picture attached to the glowing band of red vials that she’d stashed in her pockets and by the time you had made your way down to the riverside to help her out of the water, Nat had already come up with a plan. 

You were going to Budapest. 

You hadn’t wanted to pry too much; she had told you it had something to do with her sister, but you didn’t know all the exact details – you still had some questions. All you knew was that Budapest was the place Nat thought she’d get the answers to her own questions, so that was where you were going. 

With both yourself and Natasha being global fugitives, getting to Budapest wasn’t as simple as hopping on board the first commercial plane. You were going to have to do this the hard way. It had taken almost half an hour to walk your way to the nearest town from the river, by the time you arrived, Nat was shivering helplessly beside you. 

The temperate was already in the low minuses as it was, but that icy water must’ve been excruciatingly cold. Even with your jacket draped over her, it was clear to see she was freezing.  

“Do you think we should stay in a hostel or something for the night? You’ll get hypothermia if you stay in those clothes. We can leave at first light.” You had offered as the two of you made your way deeper into the town, passing by a small convenience store. 

Natasha seemed to debate your offer, nodding her head after a moment as she fought back another shiver, “Yeah, that’s probably best.” She agreed, before looking around and pointing to a charity shop in the distance, “They’ll sell clothes in there, can you go get us a bed?” She asked, nodding back at an inn you’d walked past earlier. 

You agreed with Natasha's plan, and she headed towards the shop while you made your way to the inn. The place seemed quaint from the outside, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it might be a little too rustic for comfort. However, beggars couldn't be choosers, and you hoped it would at least provide a warm bed for the night. 

The innkeeper was a gruff-looking man who eyed you suspiciously as you inquired about a room for the night. "We got a room, but don't expect any luxury here. No hot water tonight, and the heating is barely working," he warned. 

Well, you had a bed atleast. 

The innkeeper handed you a key, and you made your way up the creaky staircase to find your room. The space was small and dimly lit, with a single window covered by thin curtains that did little to keep out the harsh cold.  

You had a double bed so that was a positive you’d supposed. It was honestly comical the amount of times you and Nat had to share a small single bed together, but it wasn’t like you minded that anyway. Talking of Nat, she’d only been 10 minutes or so behind. Shuffling into the room with some rough but warmer looking clothes bundled under her arm. 

“Get what you needed love?” You asked, as she began to strip out of her soaked clothes. 

“The pants aren't exactly my style, but they’ll be better than these,” She sighed, taking her new clothes and heading into the tiny attached bathroom, “I’ll try hang these wet ones to dry.”  

When she came out, she looked more like herself, although the lingering chill was still evident in her eyes. "I could really use a hot shower right about now." she mumbled, rubbing her pale hands together in an attempt to generate some warmth. 

"Sorry about that," you apologised sympathetically, "The guy at the desk mentioned there's no hot water tonight. I can go check out town a little to see if there’s anywhere, you’d be able to get one, clothes can only do so much to warm you up." 

She shook her head, “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” Natasha sighed, but she didn't complain. Instead, she walked over to the bed and crawled under the covers, fully dressed. You joined her, wrapping your arms around her to share body heat. The cold from the room made the close contact comforting rather than stifling. 

The night passed with the two of you huddled together for warmth. The room, despite its lack of amenities, did provide some respite from the biting cold outside. The next morning, you awoke to the soft light filtering through the thin curtains and the sound of Natasha stirring beside you. 

"Morning," you greeted, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

Natasha groaned in response, her voice sounding hoarse and congested. "Morning," 

Your brow creased in worry at the sound of her voice, “You don’t sound too good honey, I knew we should’ve gotten you into a hot shower.” Your hand came to cup her face, your thumb drawing soft circles on her subtly flushed cheeks. 

Natasha shifted uncomfortably, her hand reaching up to touch her forehead. "I'll be fine," She tried to offer a weak smile but was quickly replaced by a damp sneeze. It’s probably just a little cold. Besides, we can't afford to stay here too long anyway. We need to get to Budapest," she insisted 

Despite Natasha's insistence that she would be fine, it was clear that she wasn't in the best shape. She sniffled and shivered under the covers; her body temperature higher than it should be. Still, she pushed herself to get up. 

"I'll be alright," she reassured you, her voice wavering slightly. "Let's get going. We can't afford to waste any more time." 

You reluctantly agreed, helping her gather her things and head downstairs. The innkeeper gave you both a sceptical look as you settled the bill, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not being able to pay for a more comfortable stay. Nevertheless, you and Natasha made your way to the bus station, where you boarded a bus bound for the nearest train station. 

The bus had dropped you off at a larger town where you had to transfer to a train. The train station was bustling with people all rushing about, and you held Nat’s hand as the pair of you navigated through the crowds before coming to a ticket stand where you both bought tickets to take you to the border, from there you’d have to take a ferry to get into mainland Europe then another 2 or 3 trains to finally arrive in Budapest. It wasn’t a direct journey by any means, the several stops, long distances and changes meant it was going to take a few days to get there at the minimum. 

This had led you to where you were now. A couple hours or so into your long journey to the border with Nat resting on your shoulder, small stuffy breaths coming from her parted lips.  

She sneezed suddenly, a sharp sound that seemed to startle even herself. She looked at you with a mix of surprise and irritation, as if the sneeze had betrayed her. 

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Bless you," you said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. The skin felt warm against your lips, and you couldn't ignore the worry gnawing at you. Natasha sighed, leaning into your touch for a moment. 

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice still raspy. "I hate being sick." 

"I know, love," you replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Once we get to the border, we'll find a pharmacy or something but for now just try to catch up on some sleep, okay?” 

“We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.” 

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