#I like to think k shifted to another reality | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

callikari · 2 months ago

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──────── 🕶️ PAPARAZZI

。 i'm your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me. i won't stop until that boy is mine

... 西村力 x fem!reader 🖇️ fan to idol , angst if you squint, slow burn 1238 wc ( • ᴖ • ｡) idol pressure, hints of unrequited love (in beginning), obsessive tendencies

【 more like this 🎬 】

it was never supposed to be this way.

you never imagined the glittering world of k-pop would consume you this much. it all started when you were a teenager, watching idols on tv, dreaming of standing on that stage yourself. but dreams are never as pretty when you’re trying to chase them.

you were sixteen when you entered the trainee system at hybe, surrounded by hundreds of others with the same goal. at first, it felt like a whirlwind. you had no real idea what you were doing. the rigorous training, the constant pressure, the competition—it was overwhelming. but every night, you returned to that same dream. one day, you’ll be an idol.

it wasn’t until you met him that you started believing it.

nishimura riki. the effortlessly charismatic maknae of enhypen.

at first, you only saw him from afar. he was a senior by a few months, already known for his talent, his looks, his undeniable stage presence. every time he walked by, it was like the air around him shifted. you’d be training in the same building, and for some reason, every time he passed by, it felt like time would slow down. maybe it was his aura. maybe it was the way his smile made everything around him light up. but you, a mere trainee, couldn’t help but watch. you didn’t dare speak to him. you were too far out of his league, or so you thought.

he was perfect. and you were just trying to get through one more training session.

the day you finally debuted as part of aeris arrived, and the reality of it hit you all at once. this was your dream come true. but what they didn’t tell you was how hard it would be to keep it.

aeris wasn’t just a group. aeris was an experience. bold, futuristic, and intense. your concept was about power, control, and breaking free from expectations. the styling, the music, the choreography—it was a perfect reflection of the unrelenting pressure you felt as an idol. the whole world was watching, and for once, you were ready for it.

people called you enhypen’s sister group. at first, it didn’t mean much. but over time, the comparisons grew louder. the media would always bring up him—riki. how much your group resembled enhypen in both style and talent. it felt like there was always this connection between your two groups, one that you could never quite escape.

and then, there was that interview.

you were sitting on the bright stage, the lights of the camera flashing in your eyes, as the reporter sat in front of you, his pen poised. another interview, you thought. just another day in the life of an idol.

“so, y/n,” the reporter began, his voice cheerful and warm, “aeris has made a huge impact in such a short time. tell us, what made you decide to become an idol?”

you smiled, trying to calm your nerves. you’d answered this question a thousand times, but for some reason, today felt different.

“honestly,” you started, your voice a little more vulnerable than usual, “it was seeing the way idols like nishimura riki pushed themselves. he made me believe that even though I was just a trainee, I could become something bigger. he inspired me to chase my dreams, even when everything seemed impossible.”

you could feel the room go still for a moment. the reporters exchanged glances, and a few whispered under their breath.

“nishimura riki? enhypen’s riki?” the reporter asked, clearly surprised.

you nodded, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “yeah. he was always someone I looked up to, even before I joined hybe. I didn’t think I’d ever get close to someone like him, but the way he performed, the way he carried himself—it made me want to be better. to push myself beyond my limits. he’s the reason I’m here.”

the reporters seemed to hang on to your every word. “and now, your group is being called enhypen’s sister group. how does that feel?”

you tried not to think too much about it. it wasn’t like you wanted to be compared to enhypen—you were your own person, with your own identity. but still, you couldn’t deny the strange mix of pride and pressure that came with it.

“it’s an honor,” you said with a smile, your voice steady. “but I think we’re more than just a sister group. aeris has its own identity. we want to make our mark, too.”

you smiled politely, but in the back of your mind, all you could think about was riki. the one person who unknowingly pushed you this far, who made you feel like anything was possible. you were here, in front of the cameras, trying to show the world who you were—but was he even aware of you?

the night was buzzing with excitement. the atmosphere was electric as your group prepped for the next performance, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. something about tonight felt different, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

as you walked down the hallway, you heard familiar voices and laughter coming from around the corner. you turned, your heart racing. and there he was.

nishimura riki.

he was talking with some of the enhypen members, but when his gaze met yours, everything around you seemed to fade away. for a split second, it felt like time had slowed. he smiled at you, a knowing, almost teasing look in his eyes.

you froze. did he hear the interview?

riki’s gaze softened as he excused himself from the group and walked over to you. his footsteps felt like they were echoing, but you couldn’t look away.

“y/n,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “I saw your interview.”

you blinked, a small knot forming in your throat. “you did?”

he nodded. “yeah. I didn’t know I was such an inspiration to you.”

there was something in the way he said it—playful, but also sincere. you had no idea what to say. you weren’t prepared for this.

“thank you,” you whispered, your heart racing. “really. you were the reason I kept going. even when things were hard, I thought about you and how you pushed yourself. it made me believe I could do it too.”

there was a quiet pause before riki took another step closer, his eyes now focused entirely on you. “you did,” he said softly, the smile fading slightly, replaced by something more intense. “you really did.”

the tension was thick between you two. and then, before you could say anything else, riki reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m proud of you, y/n. you’ve come a long way.”

your breath caught in your throat. did he really just say that? did he mean it?

“thanks,” you managed to whisper, your hands trembling.

he smiled, the edge of it more knowing than before. “you’ve been chasing something. but now, maybe you don’t have to anymore.”

he gave you one last look before walking away, leaving you standing there, heart pounding. your thoughts raced. what did that mean?

but even as the night went on and your group performed with all the fire and intensity you’d promised the world, one thought stayed with you.

maybe you were no longer chasing that boy. maybe, just maybe, he was chasing you.

enhypen taglist : @ash-engen @chrrific @cheruphic @jungwonbropls @ijustreallylike2read

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lueurjun · 4 days ago

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skz x platonic actor! reader.

9th added member ! x platonic!skz. in which an intense scene unravels a lot of different reactions from the boys.

req. I was wondering!! maybe!! if you could do something for skz with a 9th member reader or a s/o reader (whichever you're most comfortable with!!) who's an actor and they basically do like.. a REALLY INTENSE emotional scene ─ i'm talking screaming, crying, something violent something heart wrenching yadda yadda yk how k-dramas can be 🙂‍↕️ and what the boys' reaction would be to that? 👉👈🥹

@ziipzeepzop-eez i forgot to ask if you wanted this to be like a reaction layout or not, so i just went with the layout i mostly prefer to write with. i hope this is what you wanted my darling — but if not, don’t hesitate to shoot me a message and i’ll be happy to redo it 🫶 much love 🩵

okay but give me your autograph

because not only can you perform but you can act too????

allrounder. an ace if you will.

the day starts off pretty tame, and you weren’t expecting any of the members to show up on set

let alone all of them

yet here they were, lounging around your trailer like it was their second home, limbs slung over the furniture, shoes and jackets strewn across the floor.

you’re positive you even saw jeongin leave the bathroom with a suspiciously swollen pocket and can only assume he had made off with your fancy soaps.

thief 🫵 THIEF IN THE BUILDING

no but me leaving the skz concert with a suspiciously skz sized bag

it wasn’t until the director walked in outlined the scene you’d be filming that the apprehension truly set in

because sure, they’d seen you act before, they knew how talented you were

brad pitt has nothing on you.

but never like this; never something this raw

and for reasons you couldn’t quite name, it unsettled you.

chan, eagle eyed as ever, noticed the shift in your mood

the entire walk to set, his eyes stayed steady on you, and you felt the weight of his stare. there was absolutely no getting past him

and true to form, as the others clustered behind the cameras, chan quietly pulled you aside.

“you okay?” he asked, scanning your face and detecting everything the naked eye of a normal person couldn’t see

but he could. because he was chan: your leader, and the only person who knew you better than you knew yourself.

you nodded, forcing a smile that definitely did not reach your eyes.

a hollow weight settled in your stomach. they had never witnessed this in person before, and a quiet, stubborn part of you worried they wouldn’t be able to look at you the same.

it was a dramatic thought, but it’s how you felt.

come here- come on. arms are already open. lemme hold you awww come on 🫂

“quiet on set!”

that was your cue. offering him another smile, you reached out to squeeze his hand before turning on your heel and heading into position.

han threw you a thumbs up from behind the camera, his enthusiasm nearly breaking minho’s nose. you managed a laugh, weak, but a laugh nonetheless.

i’m also there if you even care 🙄 waving a massive ‘i support you till death do us part’ banner. if you even noticed 🙄

the minute ‘action’ was called out, you were in the zone

you were no longer y/n. you weren’t an idol, you weren’t someone’s member or coworker. you were your character, stripped of everything else but that character you were playing

their traits became yours, their emotions bleeding into your soul. words on a page transformed into reality.

your hands shook as you poured heart into your lines, breathing life into words with raw, aching feeling.

tears traced silent paths down your cheeks, your hands clenched as you exchanged lines with your coworkers.

on a moment of sheer improv, you lunged toward the window and slammed your fist into it repeatedly as sobs and screamed wracked your entire body.

DID SOMEONE SAY OSCAR WORTHY? I THINK THEY DID ! 👏 STANDING OVATION 👏 LOOK AT YOU GO !!

silence. not a word from the crew, not a breath from the boys. your fellow actors, still in scene, remained silent and watched you as the script demanded.

the tension so thick you could’ve sliced it with the same hand you were banging against the window.

with a sudden intake of air, you collapsed to your knees, unleashing a cry so raw, so gut wrenching, it carved straight through everybody in the room.

it tore from the deepest part of your soul. in that moment, your character’s pain wasn’t just scripted. it lived, breathed, and bled through you. it was no longer lines on paper.

it was powerful and all consuming until it faded out slowly as you lowered your head to the ground, and your fists met the floorboards in a trembling rhythm.

then. silence.

“and cut!”

you could hear a pin drop.

breath ragged and shallow, you lifted yoruself onto your knees in a daze, heart pounding like a drum in your ears. you barely registered your co actor rushing to your side, gently taking your hand to check for any sign of injury.

“are you okay? you did so well!”

you blinked rapidly, struggling to sift through the haze, trying to shake off the remnants of the character you were portraying and step back into your own mind.

after a few breaths, your co actor pulled you up to your feet and guided you off set and over to the cluster of stricken faces.

chan’s eyes, glossed over, opened his mouth only to realise how dry it was and swallow thickly.

hyunjin watched you like you were made of porcelain; delicate, breakable, as if one wrong move would cause you to splinter into pieces.

felix‘s eyes reflected rivers of devastation, his hands shaking with the need to comfort you.

han looked as though he’d forgotten the premise of breathing.

jeongin’s face sparkled with an equal mix of horror and surprise.

changbin was fidgeting, a red mark on his bicep where he had clawed his skin in distress.

minho’s eyes was sharpened with intensity as he studied you.

and seungmin… he simply stared at you as though you were a puzzle he was attempting to re-piece together.

not a single word was spoken from any of them, causing anxiety to coil in your stomach.

“that was amazing, y/n. take a break and get something to eat before we start filming the next scene.”

you offered a stiff nod to your director, who clamped a proud hand down on your shoulder before stalking away to praise your coworkers.

clearing your throat, you fidgeted with your still trembling hands, your body lingering in the wake of everything it had just endured.

“how-how was it?” your voice was hoarse, a reminder of how far you’d pushed yourself.

then, hyunjin breaks the silence.

nobody: … hyunjin: 🔇🔨

“if they make you reshoot that scene, i’ll sue for emotional distress.”

a laugh bubbles up, easing your racing heart as your hand rises to brush away any lingering tears.

your eyes, once dull, now sparkled again, the familiar warmth you carry thawing the ice and revealing the light of your true self,

upon the sight of their bubbly member, all eight let out a collective breath of relief, the tension fading with the shadow of your character.

felix grounded himself in your presence, pulling you into a tight embrace.

ahahahahahahahahopetheannabelledollgetsme ✌️🤪

“as much as i support you, i don’t think i’m cut out for watching you fall apart in real time.”

patting his back, you release a sigh of relief as your heart steadied with every second that ticked by

“that wasn’t human… respectfully,”

y/ngpt fr 🙃

you recognise seungmin’s voice just as felix was gently torn away from you. opening your arms for a hug, you caught his eye for a moment before he rolled them playfully and let you wrap your arms around him.

“you have five seconds,” he tells you, though you notice the way his arms lock around you like an unyielding vice.

“pretty sure it’s been at least thirty—”

seungmin scoffed, pulling away, but your freedom lasts only a heartbeat before two hands grip your shoulders, and han jisung’s face fills your entire view as he studies your expression.

“you did so well! not that i’m surprised, i knew you could act, but i didn’t know you could act like that.”

“thank—”

“are you okay though? how are you mentally? what were you thinking of when you cried like that? was it the time i jammed your finger in the door? you cried pretty hard when i did that. how’s your head? no headach—”

han babes take a breath i get of you 👏

his flurry of questions are abruptly cut off as seungmin tugs him back by the shirt, giving you a moment to breathe. reluctantly, you turn to minho.

he blinks slowly at you for a few seconds, eyes steady and unreadable, and your nerves flare tenfold. minho’s black expression was often the hardest to decipher.

just as you were about to rip your pride to shreds and beg him to say something, he holds something out to you

plot twist it’s a knife 🔪 just kidding as if id ever let anything happen to you 🙄

an opened water bottle.

“drink. your throat will be sore from that wretched sobbing you did.”

nodding, you take the bottle and hold it up to your lips, feeling his hand brush gently over your head before he steps back.

it was just so… minho of him.

“changbin are you… tearing up?”

“what? no—ahem—no. absolutely not. it wasn’t even that sad.”

EVERYBODY LOOK HIS PANTS ARE ON FIRE 🫵🔥

though when you got closer, you caught the telltale red rims lining his eyes, the unmistakable glossiness clinging to his lashes.

your heart jackknifed, an instinctive feeling blossoming in your nerves causing you to run on default

without realizing what you were doing, you shoved your half full water in jeongin’s hands and surged forward, wrapping your arms tightly around changbin.

“please don’t cry, bin. i’m okay!”

his arms came up slow, but then he was hugging you with a desperation he couldn’t quite express with words.

he inhaled sharply as he nodded into your neck.

“it just looked real- i’ve never seen you like that and i don’t think i could handle seeing it again.”

bro is NOT 🙅‍♀️ watching the drama when it releases

your hand slid across his back in smooth motions, grounding you both

you might have been the one acting, but you quickly realized that your members had felt every emotion with you.

“yah. if you don’t win an award for that i’ll be pressing charges against you for emotional turmoil.”

he squeezed your shoulder once more before reluctantly releasing you and taking a step back, eye still glossy but at least he was smiling now

changbin: 🥹

releasing a heavy sigh, you shifted and caught the gaze of chan.

he hadn’t spoken yet, but his eyes conveyed a million emotions coming up from the very depths of his being

arms crossed, and a furrow to his brow, you couldn’t quite make out whether he was upset or if he was just processing

neither. he’s actually thinking of how he’s gonna arrange your marriage to me 😌

“come here,” he uttered softly, unravelling his arms to draw you in, heart pressing against your own.

🏃‍♀️💨

he didn’t squeeze you too hard, didn’t say too much at first, choosing to let his actions speak louder than words

“that was incredible… truly, you are…wonderful,”

the last word comes out breathless, a nod to how truly enchanted he had been by your performance.

you blinked hard, fighting the urge to cry again; your eyes were heavy enough from the expel of so many tears.

“you’re not… freaked out?”

it felt weird to ask. it was just acting, after all. yet still, you needed to hear it, a small comfort to untangle the knot in your stomach.

no one could ever be freaked out by you honey plum sugar love 🫂🫶

“freaked out? never. proud? always. was i ready to march on there and drag you away? absolutely.”

you laughed quietly, the weight on your chest almost completely disintegrated

almost

there was still one person you had yet to speak to

and he was standing directly behind you, the water bottle you’d shoved toward him clutched in his hands, a damp patch on his shirt from where it had splashed against the material in your haste to get to changbin.

damn you fr drowned him 💀

you grimaced, not just at your actions but at the look on his face because he wore an unreadable expression. his eyes wide, mouth parted just a few inches, caught between the urge to hug you and the impulse to haul you off to a therapist.

“jeongin?…”

there’s a tint of uncertainty to your tone which seemed to bring him back to reality.

like minho, he blinks slow several times

and then… “do we need to perform a exorcism?”

you stare at him, wholly caught off guard

“huh?”

“something possessed you up there and i want whatever that was gone before i even think about hugging you. that shift was terrifying.”

he eyed you wearily, as if bracing himself for you to shift back into character.

“i was traumatised!”

“tad dramatic don’t you think?”

“no! no i don’t think actually.”

you tried to reach for him, but he flinched back with wide eyes, holding the water bottle up as a weapon

GET BEHIND ME RN 🫷😠🫸

though you knew he would never use it against you

snorting, you ignored his feigned protests and start to mess up with hair — a habit you had never grown out of with him

“oh you poor thing! did i scare you?”

“of course you scared me! that shift wasn’t normal- seriously!” he turns to chan. “i think we should seriously consider some holy water or something.”

you roll your lips together tightly, resisting the urge to burst into a fit of giggles

after several seconds of him eyeing you up and down, double checking to make sure you weren’t going to ‘switch’ on him, he finally — and reluctantly — let you pull him in for a hug.

“did you seriously hate it?”

you felt him shake his head, a soft chuckle falling from his lips.

“i thought you were incredible. seriously, i think you should try your hand at a horror movie next.”

you laughed. “i’ll consider it.”

one by one, the boys circled back around you again.

hyunjin nudged you arm.

“next time you do something like that, give me a warning so we can bring an inhaler.”

jeongin scoffed. “there won’t be a next time, i’m never coming back.”

what’s not clocking that he’s standing on business rn?

you grinned widely, despite the slight tremor in your hands and the higher heart rate, you felt like you were floating on cloud 9.

all those previous fears, quieted into nothingness.

they weren’t put off by you — though they were noticeably more clingy than usual.

but they were proud, completely awe stricken.

im always awe struck by you tho? 😠

and slightly terrified.

but proud regardless, and that’s all the award you needed from them.

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itsnesss · 4 months ago

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i’m so happy your reqs are open again omgomgomg !! can you please write a hwang jun ho x reader where he meets her while on duty as an officer, maybe her friends got caught speeding and they try to flirt with him but reader doesn’t flirt and has a very spacey she aloof personality and is kind of an outcast because people think she’s strange so she’s just polite to jun ho and it catches his attention ? tysm !!

𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, brief mention of traffic violations, social anxiety themes, reader with an aloof/distant personality, mutual intrigue

word count | 1.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The car sped down the road, the sound of the engine filling the space. Your friends laughed and chatted non-stop about anything that crossed their minds, but you only heard them as a distant murmur. You were used to that disconnection, to being there without really participating, lost in your thoughts while the world moved on around you.

You sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window with your head slightly tilted. The scenery blurred past quickly, but you weren’t really paying attention. Every now and then, a random thought would float into your mind, making you ponder things even you didn’t fully understand. But the sharp sound of a siren pulled you back to reality.

“Oh no!” one of your friends exclaimed from the back seat, nervously glancing at the rearview mirror. “We’re getting pulled over!”

The car began to slow down as your friend at the wheel tried to stay calm, though you could tell she was flustered. You, however, felt nothing in particular—just the usual distance you always felt. You were used to letting things unfold without much drama.

The car came to a complete stop, and you heard the door of the patrol car open. One of your friends immediately perked up, smiling flirtatiously as she adjusted her hair.

“Let’s see what happens, girls,” she said in an exaggeratedly sweet tone. You could see the excitement in her eyes, as if this were just another chance to impress a guy.

You sighed quietly, already knowing what she was up to. She was preparing to flirt with the officer who was about to approach. The other girls started whispering, clearly hoping the situation would go smoothly thanks to their charms.

And then, you saw him. The officer walked up to the driver’s side window, and for a moment, you found yourself watching him. He was tall, with a firm and professional demeanor, but there was something in his expression that felt different. It wasn’t like the other cops you’d seen before. There was something in his gaze that made you take notice, though in your self-contained world, you tried to avoid unnecessary interactions.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted in a clear, serious voice. He didn’t seem impressed by the smiles your friends offered, which gave you a slight sense of relief. “Do you know you were speeding?”

“Oh, officer!” one of your friends cooed, her tone overly sweet. “The traffic’s just been awful today, don’t you think? I’m sure we could work something out... if you know what I mean,” she added, making no effort to hide her playful tone.

You watched the interaction with mild disinterest, your eyes briefly flicking to the officer. While your friends kept flashing him their best smiles, you simply sat still, relaxed but distant. Flirting wasn’t your thing. It wasn’t how you operated. You simply waited for everything to be over so you could get on with your day.

The officer looked at your friends for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, his eyes shifted toward you. That’s when you finally lifted your head, meeting his gaze. Although he had barely noticed you before, now it felt like his attention was focused on you. There was no surprise, no superficial interest—just a subtle curiosity that made you feel both uncomfortable and intrigued.

“Any particular reason for the speeding?” he asked you directly this time, his tone serious but not harsh, as if he genuinely wanted to understand the situation.

“No,” you replied calmly, your voice even and soft. “I wasn’t paying attention to the speed.

There was a brief pause, and you felt his gaze linger on you longer than expected. Something about his demeanor unsettled you. He wasn’t looking at you the way others often did—there was no empty fascination, no surface-level interest. There was something more, something that made you feel seen in a way you weren’t used to.

Finally, he gave a slow nod. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but I suggest you be more careful next time.” His tone remained firm, but there was no trace of annoyance. He seemed to be simply doing his job, yet there was something about the way he addressed you that felt... different.

“Thank you, officer,” you murmured politely—not overly enthusiastic, but not rude either. Just enough to acknowledge his words.

Before turning away, he cast one last glance at you. This time, it wasn’t about the speeding or the formalities—it felt more personal. The interaction wasn’t like the others you’d had, where people either ignored you or found you strange. He hadn’t fallen for your friends’ charms, nor had he treated you like you were invisible. Instead, he’d noticed you.

The car started up again, and your friends burst into laughter, clearly thrilled with how things had turned out. “God, he was so hot! Did you see him? I totally would’ve said something more,” one of them giggled.

Your mind, however, was elsewhere. You didn’t care if he was hot or not. What stayed with you was how he had treated you—not like the others, not like someone trying to impress or be impressed, but like someone who saw people for who they really were. At least, that’s what it felt like.

You stayed quiet as the car continued down the road. Your friends kept talking, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. About his gaze. About how, for once, someone hadn’t tried to win you over with empty words, but had simply done his job. And for some reason, that intrigued you more than any smile ever could.

#jun ho squid game #squid game 2 #squid game #squid game x fem!reader #squid game x reader #hwang junho #junho x reader #jun ho x reader

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cosmicdream222 · 1 year ago

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Wake up with your dream life: affirm & relax challenge

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This is a challenge suggestion created by @leilth that I expanded upon ❤️

This challenge is going to help: calm your anxiety & stress, remove negativity, help reprogram your mind for manifesting your dream life, shifting, or entering the void.

Most beneficial for people with: overthinking tendencies, overactive minds, stress & anxiety, difficult circumstances

Why affirm & relax?

Most people have heard about affirm & persist, which has a lot of baggage attached, and may be seen as “robotic” or a chore. We’re switching that mindset up now.

We’re affirming because thinking positive thoughts makes us feel good. We’re thinking all the time anyway, we might as well be thinking thoughts that make us happy.

We’re relaxing because we know our dream life is on the way and we don’t have to do anything to deserve/earn/achieve it.

We’re not forcing ourselves or doing techniques to “get anything”. Like doing a yoga class or getting a massage - we’re doing it because it’s relaxing & makes us feel good.

We already know our desires belong to us, the techniques are just calming the doubtful human mind to make the transition easier.

We are relaxing and not obsessing about a deadline or time crunch because we know time is an illusion and our success is inevitable.

Challenge steps!

1) Decide your focus/intention. Do you want to wake up with all your desires? Master the void? Shift to your DR? Decide now and make your script or desires list, if you haven’t already. Got it? Alright, it’s yours! All you have to do now is sit back and relax and wait for your reality to conform.

In the meantime, here’s what you can do to relax and embody your desired state until it materializes:

2) Pick a sub playlist or make your own. I have curated a couple playlists with trusted subs you might want to try:

If you have a lot of negativity and unfortunate circumstances in your life, this playlist is for releasing negativity, curses & toxic people and manifesting a better life.

I collected a bunch of subs for this challenge that include topics like waking up with your desires, manifesting overnight, shifting, self-concept, blockage removals, boosters and more. The first sub in the playlist is one that can be looped overnight to wake up with your desires.

Subs for the void state

Pick the ones most relevant to you and make your own playlist to use daily.

3) Listen to your playlist 30-60 minutes a day. Try listening once in the morning and once at night, but any time works. You can also loop your playlist in the background throughout the day or night and listen while doing other things.

For about 10 minutes of your listening time, try to relax and breathe deeply while sitting in the psych-k position.

4) Listen to an aff tape for 10 minutes while doing psych-k or another calming exercise. Instead of psych-k, you could also try SRT, tapping, breathwork, lying under a weighted blanket, or any other calming exercise. If you do it with psych-k then do it 5 minutes each sides.

My aff tapes:

comfort & relaxation

self-concept & void concept

master shifter & master manifestor

I’m living my dream life

5) EFT tapping for your desires twice a day. You can follow the basic script I provided here, but try to use your own words with whatever specific emotions you find coming up for you in the moment. Try to tap for around 10-15 minutes. In the morning just after you wake up & before you go to bed are the most powerful times.

You can also do quick mini tapping sessions throughout the day. It’s fine to just tap only on one point while repeating your affs for a positive tune-up.

6) Each hour say your affirmation 30 times. Set a repeating reminder on your phone with one blanket aff such as “I have all my desires” or “I woke up with my dream life” or “I’m in my desired reality” or “I have mastered the void” and repeat 30x when it goes off. It’s ok to repeat it in your head if you can’t say it out loud.

The specific number of 30 affs is based off Cleo’s 12hr movement challenge which was very successful for many people who tried it. Feel free to repeat more or less based on your preference.

7) As you are drifting off to sleep: imagine, affirm, or intend to wake up with your desires. You might picture a brief scene opening your eyes to your desires in the morning (if you’re good at visualization). You could repeat the same aff you have been repeating throughout the day, or pick a short phrase that would make you feel successful like “I did it!” to loop until you fall asleep.

8) Repeat daily until you wake up with your desires!

NOTE: You may or may not see 3D acting up but again it's a good sign that what you are doing is working. You can tend to the 3D but don’t react to it. That’s just the old story trying to pull you back. Treat those old thoughts and circumstances like unruly children, firmly tell them “no!” And don’t let them get away with anything!! You are the boss now!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Daily Activities Summary:

1) Listen to your sub playlist for 30-60 minutes. It’s fine to listen while doing other things. Try to sit in the psych-k position while listening for at least 10 minutes.

2) Listen to an aff tape while doing psych-k (or other calming activity) for 10 minutes. Just breathe deep and relax while listening.

3) EFT tapping for 10-15 minutes, once in the morning & once in the evening, more if you want!

4) Affirm with your main aff 30 times each hour you’re awake.

5) Affirm or imagine waking up with your desires as you drift off to sleep.

6) No identifying with 3D circumstances, tell negative thoughts “No!” and counteract them with your affs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Why do we do each method?

Psych-k: we do psych-k sessions while listening to subliminals or aff tapes because it helps calm our nervous systems and connect both sides of our brains, releasing stuck stress and speeding up the process of learning the affirmations.

Tapping: we do tapping because it helps us to remove all blocked energy & emotions holding us back, replacing it with beliefs that say we already have our desires. It helps us shift our state to feel like we already have what we want and makes it easier to accept our new affs.

Repeating affirmations: we are repeating affirmations each hour so we saturate our mind as much as possible and remind ourselves of the new story. We’re doing this to calm the impatient overactive human brain that wants to keep telling the old story.

SATS/lullaby: Imagining your desires fulfilled or repeating affirmations as you go to sleep are some of the OG methods of loa manifesting. Whatever you think of right before you fall asleep is going to powerfully affect your subconscious mind.

How long is this gonna take??

Everything depends on how much resistance you have and your personal mindset and journey. We’re not making deadlines or limits because time is an illusion right?

But on average, both EFT and Psych-k have been proven to permanently change beliefs in about 7 sessions. So one week should be more than enough. Since we’re also doing tapping and affirming and listening to subs, it’s gonna work from all angles, speeding up the process even if you have doubts, fears, or limiting beliefs.

Now stop scrolling and go affirm and relax!! You’re gonna be living your dream life in no time at all! 💕

#manifesting #manifesting challenge #affirm and relax #reality shifting #loa #void state

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forestclan-clangen · 4 months ago

Text

Moon 9 (Answered Call Result + Epilogue)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

HOLLOW SPACE FILLED WITH LOYALTY

PATH CHOSEN: ATTEMPT TO TREAT BARLEYWAVE, AND WAIT OUT THE WIND.

(Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 9 moons) (The Audience. It's you. You answered. You're here. You feel yourself scattering into ashes, falling apart and rejoining again and again, into countless, almost-forms. Your words are waves. Your sounds are static. And yet still, you are here. Please, you cry. Please, hang on.)

---

Shiverpaw's pelt rose as she felt like insects crawled through every vein in her body. The nerves in her body trembled, her claws felt like shifting sands. Her heart stopped as she felt like something wrapped itself around her whole body. And yet, it did not feel like it was seeking to play her voice like an instrument, or move her paws.

Instead, it was like it made a gentle push in her body - clicking a dislocated joint or a fractured bone back into place. She couldn't describe it. Was it…relief? She wasn't sure. She didn't know. The sensation felt alien and unnatural.

But then distant whispers filled her. It wasn't a true, distinct voice - it was more akin to an innate, absolute truth. The guarantee of ground beneath her feet. The promise of a beating heart and breathing lungs. The endless expanse of the sky above.

The comfort of the sun rising, again and again, regardless of whether anyone would see it.

She couldn't parse the whispers. They bounced against one another, like grains of sand carried by wind. But there was something that was repeated.

Snow. Block. Warm.

Shiverpaw felt the unknown energy recede from her legs, concentrating itself purely around her head. It ached, but she could feel the cold again in her legs.

Breathe. She had to breathe. Barleywave needed help. Snow. Block…

"Morningpaw?"

"W-What?" the warrior apprentice squeaked.

"D-Does snow…block…"

There was a tense silence that fell until Barleywave weakly faded back into reality, a look of sudden worry gripping his exhausted face.

"K-Kids," he rasped. "Don't let me…sleep. I really shouldn't. Okay?"

Shiverpaw felt a surge of warmth course through her body. She…she could do this. Had to.

"Barleywave, how do I make a snow wall?"

"Wall…wall! Yes," Barleywave didn't move, but he shut his eyes tightly as it seemed like his mind was focused on parsing his thoughts. "Pile the snow high. Against the wind. Wall blocks the…"

"The wind," Shiverpaw finished. It felt like a message just clicked. She felt like she could hear something else clearly.

Ground. Lift. Warm. Core.

"M-Morningpaw. Listen," Shiverpaw meowed. "G-Ground. Lift…lift him in here. Keep his…his core warm," she stammered as she forced herself past the tunnel entrance.

"C-Core? But what about you?" Morningpaw stammered.

"Dig…dig a hole." Shiverpaw's eyes widened. Yes…yes, walls! That made sense! "So the wind doesn't get him. I'll make a snow wall out here, to make a bigger wall."

"But will you also fit in here?"

Shiverpaw paused. She listened to the energy again. Ground…lift…core…

The ground was wet.

"Dry. He…he needs to be on something dry."

Morningpaw paused, then her amber eyes widened in realization. "We…we're warm, right?"

"Kids, I don't think you need to be r-rugs," Barleywave forced out a poorly-timed joke, which received a hiss from Morningpaw.

"If it saves you, I don't care!" Morningpaw started digging at the earth in the shelter below Barleywave.

Shiverpaw looked at the mounded piles of snow that they had made in their frantic attempts to clear the entrance, and bit back at the wind that pushed against her. She forced herself to grab the wet, cold snow, and pile it against the tree's trunk. She ignored the numbing pain as she kept piling the snow upward, until it built a partial barricade that blocked the wind. She wasn't sure about how sturdy it was. She was too cold to think about what to do otherwise.

She turned to the shelter and saw Morningpaw's white paws stained a dark brown. She was tearing up the earth like she was a badger, shoveling the dirt at the back wall. Barleywave's front legs and head were angled downwards, and she could hear him mumbling constant praise in an attempt to stay awake.

Shiverpaw's gaze fell on the corner where she used to be, and saw the leather pouch she used to carry herbs.

Wait.

Shiverpaw stepped over Barleywave and grabbed the pouch, then pulled a wet claw and started cutting at the seams of beeswax.

"Shiverpaw, what are you doing?" Morningpaw asked.

"Warm. Head should be warm," she mumbled. She wasn't…sure how she knew that. Maybe Windfur taught her. Yes. He must've. She unfurled the pouch until it was a plain sheet of leather again. Flat, and dry. She approached Barleywave and tried wrapping it around his muzzle and nose.

"Mmphf?" Barleywave's weak protest was muffled.

"Can you breathe?"

"Mm-hm," he hummed the affirmative.

"Good. Now come on," Shiverpaw started to shove herself into the dug incline. She looked at Morningpaw. "Join me here."

Morningpaw huddled herself against Shiverpaw tightly, then bit into Barleywave's scruff, trying to coax him into moving. Barleywave trembled as he reluctantly shifted his upper body over top of the two apprentices, allowing his back legs and tail to finally be tucked away from the outside. He blinked slowly several times, both to tense himself and offer reassurance.

Shiverpaw stayed quiet as she forced herself to take deep breaths. The ground was so, so cold. But they had to wait.

The three cats remained awake in relative silence. Morningpaw prodded Barelywave every so often, preventing him from sleeping as requested. Shiverpaw allowed the warmth of their bodies to provide some comfort. The feeling of falling sand continuously rapped at her forehead. But through the noise, she could faintly hear soft words like a distant melody.

We stand by you, through everything.

This was not your fault.

Everything will be alright.

We love you. We love you. We love you.

Shiverpaw felt a knot in her throat. She choked back a sob, closing her eyes. She felt like she was speaking to StarClan again, when they showed her the Iris. Fear, met with overwhelming love. We love you. We love the Clans. Be brave.

She was loved, but she couldn't do anything for them in return. The beings beyond StarClan were just like her ancestors. They watched. They loved. They wanted her to be okay.

Her thoughts were banished as she heard familiar voices, faded in the distance. They were calling for them. Yowling as loud as they could.

Morningpaw scrambled, writhing underneath her mentor. "Help!" she tried to call, her voice abruptly strained. "Help - "

"No, no," Barleywave groaned, his voice barely heard from the leather.

"O-Oh, right," Morningpaw stammered. "W-We're here! Over here!"

Shiverpaw felt the alien energies slowly retreat from the last of her body. The Clan had sent a patrol - they must've been out for too long. Did the wind die down enough? Shiverpaw saw that the snow outside was falling in a straighter pattern. They called out to the voices, and Shiverpaw heard the pawsteps of cats approaching the tree hollow rapidly. She was greeted by the fearful and relieved faces of three long-furred cats - Talontooth, Tree, and Windfur. Snowflakes blanketed their fur like the peaks of mountains.

"T-Talontooth!" Morningpaw exclaimed, her face filled with relief.

"Oh, thank StarClan, you're okay!" Talontooth exclaimed.

Shiverpaw found herself aware enough to tell Windfur that Barleywave was freezing. She watched as Tree's muscles rippled as they apologized and yanked Barleywave up by the scruff, forcing him to his feet. Talontooth leaned against him to hold him up, the two cats helping him walk. Morningpaw trailed after them anxiously.

Windfur looked at his apprentice with a look of grief and regret. "I…I'm…"

"Camp," she interjected. "Camp now." Shiverpaw followed after her clanmates, choosing to ignore Windfur's eyes staring at the back of her head.

Hurt filled her chest. It wasn't her fault. He shouldn't have sent her out.

When the patrol finally made it back to camp safely, she allowed Iciclepool to rush towards her and groom her head, purring and expressing relief.

"Oh, Shiverpaw, my child," Iciclepool meowed and rested her head on top of hers. "Oh, StarClan, thank you. Thank you." Shiverpaw heard her mother's voice waver. It wasn't because of the cold.

As Barleywave became wrapped up in soft furs and tanned pelts, and a cautious fire was created inside the medicine cat den, Shiverpaw ignored Windfur's attempts to apologize or ask if she was okay. Instead, she looked at him and said firmly, "Show me how to treat frostbite."

She was relieved when Windfur only stared at her for a moment, before looking away and starting to teach. His voice was quieter than normal. Still, she listened, and absorbed every part of the treatment. She learned how to slowly warm a cat's extremities, the parts most vulnerable to the cold. She learned to keep Barleywave's bedding dry, to surround him with pelts so the blood still circulated to his heart and mind. The fire cannot be too strong, as sudden heat would rupture frozen skin. She kept that all in mind, and when Windfur had finished explaining the treatment, she wordlessly padded up to a cold Morningpaw and made sure that she wasn't frostbitten either.

She could feel Morningpaw stare at her with a mixture of discomfort and tentative gratitude. She couldn't find something to say, so she didn't. She just confirmed that Morningpaw wasn't frostbitten, and she could stay by the fire to stay warm.

By the time the wind had died down and remnants of snowfall piled more gently, Shiverpaw watched as ForestClan now huddled together inside the insulated medicine den. They sat together in tense silence, staring at the hot cinders that glowed with a red light, the flame died down.

"...Can we make more fire?" Branchkit piped up with a tremble to her voice.

"Too dangerous in a confined space," Hopechase answered gently. "We don't want the fire to light the roof of the den."

From next to Branchkit, Perchkit let out a quiet whine. Her head still hurt from the migraines she suffered.

That night, Shiverpaw couldn't get any sleep. Despite the comfort of her mother curled behind her, she couldn't help but stare at her clan. Olive, curled around Perchkit and Branchkit. Hopechase, resting behind Iciclepool, her head against hers. Tree, positioned near the entrance, shielding a frequently-stirring Cloudthunder from the cold. Talontooth had sheepishly shifted closer to Morningpaw over the course of the evening, until his back met hers and he fell asleep. Riversnow lay beside Barleywave, failing to hide her concern for him. Windfur was at the back of the den, facing away from the fire and to the wall. Only Redstar still lay in a restless heap, her eyes reflecting the remaining light of the cinders. They burned with quiet resentment about the woods outside. She caught Shiverpaw's gaze, and her eyes softened.

She didn't say anything. But she didn't need to.

Eventually, she, too, fell asleep.

Shiverpaw watched as the snow continued to fall, burying the world outside. The white speckles of snowflakes blurred the dark night, and for a brief moment, she was reminded of StarClan. Of Silverpelt, painting the darkness with white, dazzling light.

And…she thought of the voices not from StarClan.

She didn't expect them to answer. She still didn't know what they were. She was still wary of them - worried that the Iris could hear them. Was she right to call for help?

…How did she manage to do it? Was this something any cat could do?

…No. She loved stories, ever since she was a kit. She always listened to them. She heard of Twolegs, of monsters, of legends, both real and imaginary.

She never heard about cats speaking to beings that had no form, their voices surging through bodies like…like lightning. Like coarse sand. Like…howling wind and falling snow, making the roof of her mouth feel metallic and rough.

…But she did. And they were kind.

She still didn't know who they were yet. But they helped her save Barleywave, and for now, that's all that mattered.

She curled up against Iciclepool, staring back at the now-extinguished fire, and allowed her eyes to close. Exhaustion pulled her quickly into a deep sleep.

---

[FINAL INTERACTIONS RESULTS]

PATH CHOSEN: LOYALTY [+ 15 COMFORT]

YOUR WORDS BROKE THROUGH TO SHIVERPAW. She feels like she can trust you a little more. [+ 5 TRUST]

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kathlare · 2 months ago

Text

jealousy, jealousy

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie joins Lando and a few familiar faces for a dinner that starts off light and full of laughter but slowly unravels into something more complicated.

Wordcount: 2.7 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

September 1st, 2020 - Milan, Italy

The table was loud—messy, full of drinks clinking and laughter that spilled out into the warm Milan night through the open terrace doors. George was halfway through a dramatic retelling of a karting accident when Amelie finally let herself relax into the cushion of the restaurant booth. The boys—Lando, Charles, Alex, and George—had been in town for media stuff, and she had flown in a day early for fittings, so Lando had convinced her to come out for dinner.

Well. Convinced was generous. He’d sent one of those stupid photos of his pouty face and a caption that said, “If you don’t come, I’ll cry in front of everyone and blame you.”

Classic Norris emotional terrorism.

So now here she was, tucked between Charles and Lando, sipping on a Negroni that was way too strong and trying not to look like she’d been specifically placed beside him.

They were just friends. Friends. No matter how warm her skin felt when their knees touched. No matter how her heart hiccupped when he casually leaned in to whisper something only she would hear.

—...and then George, the dumbass, decides to celebrate the crash,— Alex was saying, over a round of cackles. —Takes off his helmet like he’s just won Monaco, not flipped into a tire wall.—

George raised his glass in mock salute. —Still my most iconic moment.—

—I literally had secondhand whiplash from watching it,— Amelie laughed, then turned to Lando. —Did you see that video of it edited to Taylor Swift?—

—I sent it to him,— Charles grinned.

—Of course you did,— Lando muttered, but he was smiling too.

The waitress came back then. Slim, blonde, very Italian—and apparently very interested in Lando.

—Would you like another drink?— she asked, eyes laser-focused on him like no one else at the table existed.

Amelie watched as Lando glanced up, polite as ever. —Uh... yeah, I’ll take another Coke, please.—

She leaned closer. Unnecessarily close. —You sure you don’t want something a little… stronger?—

His smile faltered, but only slightly. —No, I’m good. Thanks.—

The waitress turned with a wink and walked away, but not before her hand brushed his shoulder. Lingering.

Amelie blinked.

Charles snorted into his glass.

Alex leaned in, stage-whispering, —Well, someone wants to ride in the McLaren.—

Lando looked mortified. —Oh my God, shut up.—

Amelie didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to.

Her jaw had tightened, but her expression stayed neutral. Calm. Only Lando could feel the slight shift in energy beside him, the way her fingers stopped playing with her napkin, the tension rolling off her like a quiet storm.

George glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. —You good?—

—Peachy,— Amelie said, smiling too brightly. —Why wouldn’t I be?—

Lando glanced sideways at her. He knew that smile. That wasn’t a real smile. That was a fuck you smile wrapped in lip gloss and fury.

And he knew exactly why.

The waitress returned with the Coke, setting it down in front of Lando like she was offering up a holy grail.

—If you need anything else… anything at all…— she purred.

Amelie didn’t even look at her. Just said, dryly, —Think he’s good, thanks.—

There was a tone there. Everyone at the table heard it.

The waitress didn’t.

Or maybe she did and didn’t care. Either way, she gave Lando another wink before disappearing.

—Damn,— Charles said under his breath. —She’s bold.—

—She’s annoying,— Amelie muttered.

It slipped out sharper than she intended, but she didn’t take it back. She just took another sip of her drink, this time not even pretending to enjoy it.

Alex blinked, clearly amused. —Someone woke up and chose violence tonight.—

George stifled a laugh behind his hand. Charles looked like he was watching the best episode of a reality show.

Lando, on the other hand, was trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t sweating.

—Ames,— he said carefully, nudging her leg under the table. —Are you actually mad?—

—Why would I be mad?— she replied sweetly, eyes still on her glass, voice like honey-covered razor blades. —You’re single. And apparently very popular.—

He blinked. —I’m not popular. She was just being… nice.—

—That wasn’t nice,— she snapped, finally looking at him. —That was desperate. There’s a difference.—

The boys let out a collective "oooh," like middle schoolers watching a classroom roast unfold.

George leaned over to Alex, grinning. —I thought they were just friends.—

—So did I,— Alex whispered back, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Amelie heard them. She didn’t care.

Because the truth was she was pissed. And she didn’t even fully understand why. Maybe it was the way the waitress kept ignoring her like she was invisible. Maybe it was the way Lando laughed, soft and polite, like he didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Or maybe it was the fact that no matter how many times she told herself they were just friends, no matter how many boundaries she pretended to put in place, she still wanted to grab that girl by the apron and tell her to back the fuck off.

And she couldn’t.

Because officially? She had no right.

So instead she turned back to the table, resting her chin on her hand and forcing herself to smile. —Anyway. Anyone want to bet on how long before she “accidentally” spills a drink on him? My guess is dessert.—

—You’re scary,— Charles muttered, looking vaguely impressed.

Lando was quiet. Too quiet.

Amelie didn’t look at him again. She couldn’t.

The food arrived a few minutes later, and the table shifted back into laughter and conversation, but something between her and Lando had frayed. Subtle. Tangled.

By the time dessert actually came, Amelie had barely touched her pasta. She poked at it for a while, forced down a few bites when Lando nudged her thigh under the table, but the appetite that had started fragile had vanished completely. Just like the little peace she’d had before Miss Ciao Bella sauntered in with her flirty smiles and wandering hands.

Lando didn’t talk to the waitress again.

Not really.

But he also didn’t say anything to her. Not after the little flare-up at the table. Not when she said she wasn’t mad, even though it was obvious she was. Not even when he caught her arms crossed during dessert, absently flicking her straw in her untouched drink like it had personally offended her.

He didn’t know what to say. And honestly? Neither did she.

So the dinner passed.

The group eventually wrapped up, paid, and made their way out onto the street. The night was cooler now, the kind of crisp September air that carried laughter and city sounds on the breeze. Lights glittered along the cobblestone alleyway outside the restaurant, the boys still chatting about whatever Charles had started yelling about inside—some bad sim race or something.

They all came in separate cars. George and Alex had both rented theirs from the airport, Charles took his own, and Lando had picked up Amelie at the hotel in his McLaren.

It should’ve been an easy ride home.

But as the valet started calling out names and keys were exchanged, Amelie quietly stepped back from the group.

George’s car was brought around first, and he waved a lazy goodbye before climbing in. Alex followed soon after, ducking into his black rental with a sleepy yawn and a —Text me when you get back, I don’t trust any of you idiots not to crash.—

Charles was still waiting with them when Lando’s car pulled up—the orange McLaren gleaming beneath the streetlights like it was built to be stared at.

Lando took a step forward to meet the valet, but paused when he noticed something. Or, more specifically, someone wasn’t beside him.

He turned back. —You coming?—

Amelie was still standing a few feet away, her arms crossed again, expression unreadable under her mask. Her eyes darted toward Charles, then back to Lando.

—Actually... I’m gonna go with Charles,— she said casually. Too casually. —He offered earlier. It’s on the way, so... yeah.—

Charles looked surprised. A little confused. But he didn’t contradict her.

Lando blinked. —You what?—

—Going with Charles,— she repeated, tugging her oversized blazer tighter around her. —You don’t have to wait.—

He stared at her. Hard.

Something about the way she said it. The coolness in her voice. The wall that had come up between them so fast it made his head spin.

Lando scoffed, shaking his head once, short and bitter. —Whatever.—

He didn’t argue. Didn’t push. Just turned without another word and climbed into the McLaren, slamming the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

The car peeled off into the night, tires humming against the stone street.

And Amelie stood there, heart thudding and throat tight.

Charles glanced sideways at her, hands in his pockets. —You lied. I didn’t offer.—

She exhaled through her nose. —I know.—

He paused. —You want to talk about it?—

—Nope.—

—Alright. But if you change your mind, I’m excellent at fake therapy. And I have snacks in the glovebox.—

She managed a smile, small and brief, before following him to his car.

But when she got back to the hotel—after Charles dropped her off with a kind squeeze to her shoulder and a “don’t let your overthinking win”—she didn’t go straight upstairs.

Instead, she sat in the hotel lobby for twenty minutes, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, biting the edge of her thumbnail and wondering how the hell she’d managed to sabotage herself again.

Because Lando wasn’t hers. Because she’d made it clear. Because she didn’t want to cross that line—right?

But somehow, watching that waitress practically salivate over him had flipped a switch. And she hated how easily jealousy made her unravel.

When she finally walked into her room, Björn hissed at her from the couch, then promptly knocked a glass off the table.

—Yeah, yeah, I know,— she muttered, tossing her shoes aside. —I’m a disaster. Thanks for the reminder.—

Her phone buzzed just as she was brushing her teeth.

Lan: Enjoy the ride with Charles?

She stared at the message for a full minute before typing back.

Ames: Thanks for dinner. Good night.

She didn’t press send.

She deleted it.

Typed something else.

Deleted that too.

In the end, she turned off her phone without replying and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head like it might block out the guilt brewing in her chest.

Because she could pretend all she wanted.

But lying to him about that ride?

That was the first time she realized she didn’t just want to be friends.

Not anymore.

And maybe she never did.

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

liked by quadgossipqueen, f1fangirldiaries, and others

f1teaofficial: 👀 SPOTTED: Amelie Dayman leaving dinner with Charles Leclerc in Milan last night… just friends or something more? 👁️🍝 The pair looked cozy as they exited the restaurant together — and let’s just say, the internet is spiraling.

View all 79,018 comments

lanlanfan69: i know lando just threw his phone across the room → mclarenfangirlies: @lanlanfan69 he’s 100% rage playing call of duty rn

f1wifelife: charles pls stop collecting brunettes with god complexes → softboilan: @f1wifelife he has a type and it’s terrifying → gridgirlenergy: @f1wifelife this man’s roster could win a BAFTA

daymanhoe: not charles entering the ring for the "friend" olympics too → quadgossipqueen: @daymanhoe it’s giving “who’s really her soulmate” energy → drunkonlando: @daymanhoe LANDO U BETTER WAKE UP BRO

pastaandpetty: they went out for dinner but now i’m the one who’s fed 😭 → lesleyformclaren: @pastaandpetty i’ve eaten nothing but their crumbs for YEARS

screaminginferrarired: charmelie? lecrayman? idk but i’m scared → bbyleclerk: @screaminginferrarired it’s the “maybe they kissed” delulu hours → landozbraincell: @screaminginferrarired this is just like when my sims start flirting out of nowhere

f1fangirldiaries: if i see them holding hands it’s over for me → pitlaneclown: @pitlaneclown catch me setting my phone on fire out of loyalty to lanmelie → heartbrokeninsector3: @pitlaneclown who do i even root for now 😭

formulaflirts: nah if i were lando i’d be SICK rn → landosexuals: @formulaflirts bro’s pacing in a hotel room somewhere whispering “charles? really?” → drsfordayman: @formulaflirts someone check if he unfollowed charles again 😭

wagscentral: i just KNOW lando opened this post and threw his phone

softieforamelie: she’s collecting drivers like infinity stones and i support her → f1girliesunite: @softieforamelie slay queen, break the grid → girlofgrid: @softieforamelie she’s literally the final boss of the paddock

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

The room was too quiet.

Too still.

Amelie lay in bed, staring at the hotel ceiling, heart pounding like it had something to say and no one to say it to. She hadn’t slept. Not really. Just drifted in and out of a shallow haze, haunted by the image of his face as she’d walked away. The click of the car door. The way his eyes hardened when she told him she’d go with Charles instead.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

And the more she replayed it—the sharpness in her voice, the way she couldn’t even look at him—the worse she felt.

She’d fucked up.

No, she was fucking up.

Silently, she kicked off the duvet, toes hitting cold floor as she crept across the hotel room. Björn let out an indignant meow from the couch, but she ignored him, grabbing the hoodie Lando had left in her suitcase weeks ago and slipping it over her tank top.

The hallway was dim and quiet, her bare feet silent against the carpet. Each step toward his room felt heavier than the last, her chest tight with the kind of panic she couldn’t rationalize away.

What if he didn’t open the door? What if he was still mad? What if she’d pushed too far this time—crossed a line they couldn’t un-cross?

But her knuckles rapped against the wood before she could talk herself out of it.

A pause. Then footsteps.

The door creaked open, and there he was—barefoot, hoodie slung over a t-shirt, hair a tousled mess like he’d been pulled straight out of sleep. His eyes were sleepy at first… then sharp as soon as he registered her.

He didn’t say anything.

Just stepped back and opened the door wider.

She slipped in silently.

The door shut behind her.

Lando didn’t move. Didn’t look at her. Just crossed his arms, jaw tight.

—You come to ignore me some more?—

Amelie stayed quiet. She could tell he wasn’t finished.

—Because if that’s the plan, let’s just skip it. Really saves us both time.—

Still, she didn’t speak.

He let out a dry laugh, but it didn’t sound amused. —You couldn’t even look at me tonight. Lied to me in front of everyone. And for what? Because some girl with fake lashes and a tray smiled at me? Seriously, Amelie?—

Her eyes dropped to the floor.

—You know what the worst part is?— he continued, voice rising just enough to sting. —I didn’t even do anything wrong. And you still looked at me like I betrayed you.—

Silence.

Her fingers twitched.

His voice softened—not kindly, but exhausted. —Say something. Come on. Say anything.—

She didn’t.

Instead, she took one step forward. Then another.

Lando’s expression didn’t change, not at first—still cold, still hurt.

Until she surged forward and kissed him.

Hard.

All of her frustration, guilt, jealousy—everything she couldn’t say with words poured out in that kiss.

He staggered back slightly, stunned. But his arms were already around her before he could think, lifting her up like it was instinct. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he kissed her back just as fiercely, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night—hell, maybe all year.

They stumbled back toward the bed, mouths still locked, only breaking the kiss to breathe as they collapsed onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs and apology.

Lando's chest rose and fell beneath her, his fingers brushing her cheek.

She whispered, voice small: —I’m sorry.—

He looked up at her, breathless but teasing now. —Not gonna forgive you until you admit you were jealous.—

She groaned, rolling off him just enough to glare. —Oh my God, fuck you.—

He grinned, triumphant. —There she is.—

She buried her face in his hoodie, muttering, —You’re such a little shit.—

But she didn’t move away.

And he didn’t let her go.

They lay like that for a while—tangled up, quiet, no longer pretending.

Because it wasn’t just jealousy.

It was care. And fear. And wanting him so badly it scared her.

And maybe tomorrow would be complicated. Maybe the world outside this room would press in again.

But right now?

She was his.

And he was hers.

Even if neither of them had said it out loud yet.

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11-asher-11 · 29 days ago

Text

"Taboo" topics

Unfortunately we still have to talk about it. Not bcs there is a right/wrong way but bcs people keeps fighting about it, being rude and making the community a not so beautiful place.

Let's start with the whole "Age down" thing.

First, your not age down yourself, you became aware. And awareness DOESN'T have age. There you have the brain/body of that kind of age (unless you script to be more mature).

BUT i get what is the main problem for people: dating a minor.

Honestly if you shift just for that is weird, i won't lie. But what people forget is there are situations.

i make some example: What if a 80 years old decide to shift to a reality where he's 12 again and live is life again from the start and being a part of a relationship is just part of "teen ages"? it makes him a pdf? or just a shifter who doesn't limit himself?

I'll make another example with myself. I started trying to shift when i was 16, in my better Or i'm 17..now i'm almost 18. Do I have to give up to my Dr? do i have to change everything just bcs of that? do i have to give up on having better teen age in a reality where i got my transition? and where my love interest is just part of it??

Another thing i think bother y'all against it is thinking that here people who "age down" think about the minor they date in their dr in a sexual way here but guys. Shifting is not daydream. I NEVER DAYDREAM abt my Dr. Bcs is my life and i find it weird. At the best i remember some events/jokes and all.

Also that would mean that once someone get to a certain age he can't shift to a reality where he is younger? why? that's so limiting? what if they find out abt shifting at 50? no young adults anymore? no hogwart? no teen age anymore? It feels quit limiting..and it's fine if you limit yourself. But don't bother others.

Second "race changing". Honestly I think that for y'all the problem is more "skin changing" bcs if someone would "change" from being german to being italian y'all won't blink an eye. But honestly this argument is so old.

The reality already exist, you already have that race, you lived discrimination (always can script out) and there are literally reality where "Races" don't exist.

Also i see no one getting annoyed if ppl become a race that is "fictional", is not less real so why? Also most ppl who race change do it for convenience, for example k-pop drs or like shifting in anime.

Personally i do not race change. it's not my thing, i like being italian but that doesn't mean i don't defend who doesn't wanna limit themselves.

Ofc you can not like it. is fair, but can we stop being rude?

it's true that the fact that a reality already exist like that doesn't mean you have to shift there but why should I limit myself? i want. so that's more than enough? is the whole point of shifting.

Shifting is limitless but if we start saying "that no", "that yes", "do x", "don't do y" then it becomes limited. It's impossible to makes everyone on the same side but PLS be kind, respectful and let's not make this community shit.

Three "scripting trauma"

Guys. that's so not a problem..literally you can shift where you want. There is a universe where you have those traumas and they don't not affect you. "but when you come back gne gne" GO TO A REALITY WHERE IT DOESN'T AFFECT YOU? i have deeply understanding for traumas, i understand that most of those people know what they're talking about but if someone doesn't wanna limit themselves and live even deep, dark things what is so wrong?

"i'm worried for you" Are y'all worried for every single version of me in infinite realities?

i personally don't script trauma either, but i do not care what ppl do with their own life. Traumas is not the end of the world for some people..just let them be. It won't chage anything to YOU.

Four "shifting in dangerous dr"

usually this is from ppl who literally have mcu Dr or hogwart dr. It's kind of funny. LET PEOPLE EXPERIENCE WHAT THEY WANT. they wanna go to a deep, dark and realistic reality LET THEM GO. not everyone is happy with the perfect life with no problems at all. Also i saw ppl complain to even change those dangerous dr to make them safe saying "we all know you actually didn't" excuse me? what the hell do you want exactly? me changing passions? hyperfixation? idk do you even want me to be like you? LET PEOPLE BE. is not that deep to be desprectful, rude or anything at all.

Five "shifting for bad ppl"

I think that depends and is deeply personal. i don't think someone shift for someone who likes killing or for someone who kicks dogs while walking in the street. Most of the time is deep grey character or something.

I think that most of the time ppl who shifted for "bad" people is bcs they understand them in deeply way, ofc they can script out bad things but maybe they don't wanna? it could be for any motivation, change too much the person, ruin a redemption arc or anything at all.

Also most people who say that are the same that in their hogwarts dr have voldemort as father and draco as S/O..so.

Also that would mean i can't even interact with bad ppl? i can't even be their enemy or anything? it feels so strange to me. Everyone have different morals and it's fine if you think it's strange, but let ppl be.

Shifting for someone who do bad things doesn't mean they support their actions (most of ppl i saw script they'll change) and also they're not responsable of their s/o actions? sure you chose to shift there but it could be just for experiences? For some ppl will go well, for some no, for some is right, for some it isn't.

As the previous point, LET PPL BE. you can't stop them in any case.

Hope ppl will just stop arguing over it and just let ppl live. Byeee! :)

#loa blog #loa tumblr #loablr #loassblog #loassumption #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifters #shifting blog #shifting community #desired reality

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reality-shitting · 12 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/antishifter-shifting?source=share

girl i'm new to shifting. i saw this post. for a long time, i was very skeptical ab shifting. it feels very unreal to be real but now i want to try it out.

Girlie pop, I am gonna be so honest, I am not going to waste my energy reading some hateful bs 😭

But I was very much the same as you once! I'm a very logical thinker and I love psychology and science. (If you're also like that, I'd recommend @kitty-kat244 's blog, as they center it around how neuroscience supports shifting) However a few things in my life convinced me that I could at least give it a go.

1, Near Death Experience stories:

My sister passed for a few minutes in kindergarten. To this day, now in her 30s, she describes how she saw herself floating above her body and the ethereal feeling of an OBE. On community tabs like askreddit where people have asked what the afterlife is like, a vast majority of people describe the Void state. Nothingness, peace, pureness, feeling like everything and nothing. I don't possibly think ALL of these people are lying given how similarly close they all are to each other. To add to that, the uptick in recent years of stories from people who believe they experienced quantum immortality. People who were somewhere one minute and suddenly they're thrown in a new place inexplicably. I remember seeing a TikTok of a woman who was driving, she had about an hour left in her drive and she saw another car coming for her. Suddenly she had arrived at her destination. It had only been about 10 minutes. She was crying and shaking and very visibly in distress. Sure, it could've been a fabrication, but like the other stories about the void, there's so many of them that I don't think all of them are lies.

2, my best friend entered the void before I knew what it was:

In Highschool, my childhood best friend messaged me one day about a "really weird dream" she had. She described just floating in a white void, feeling like she didn't exist, didn't have a body, with an everlasting sense of calmness and peace. Again, this I now know is what we would call the void state. To this day, she talks about how she wants to "go back".

3, The man who dreamt for 17 years:

This is a story very commonly told throughout the internet and I first heard it in middle school. I'll summarize it, but essentially a man went to bed one night and in his "dream", time flowed the same way, everything was as detailed and fluid as our everyday reality. Everything acted as it did in reality. He met a girl, got married, had children, moved up in his career. Then one day, he noticed something off about his lampshade in the living room. He focused on it and suddenly, he woke up in his bed. He was so devastated about waking up from this "dream" that he needed therapy. He lived for seventeen years in the span of one night. Now this story was everywhere and everyone thought "oh that's so crazy" but when we describe shifting, which is exactly what his story describes, we're called delusional. Personally, I don't care if people think I'm crazy, I just keep it to myself. But the fact that such an incident has been recorded before, people believed it and people, to this day, even make memes about his story? I'm honestly very surprised the shifting community doesn't bring this account up more often, as it's from so long before shifting was known and it lines up so perfectly with our experiences, right down to time ratios.

4, My own childhood beliefs:

When I was young- and I mean, Pre-K young- I distinctly remember wondering and asking my parents, "What if I'm not actually me? What if I just wake up as "me" everyday and I have the memories of the old me?". (Don't ask how I was so philosophical, I think kids are just like that. I know this sounds like bullshit believe me lmao but I'm adding ALL of my personal reasons) Anyways, this is actually a core belief of shifting. That we are constantly shifting through time and timelines that just match up with our beliefs. So you are not the "you" you were yesterday. Does that make sense? I also firmly, firmly believed in the multiverse theory and that everything was real somewhere. I remember making Gravity Falls x LPS Popular crossover videos when I was 10 because, hey, it's probably there somewhere, why not? Crossover episodes on TV certainly didn't cause my belief to waver because look! Timmy Turner is in Jimmy Neutron now! So they both exist separately, simultaneously and together! And I just kinda, applied it to everything. What's real here is fictional in another world and vice versa.

5, last resort:

As the world deteriorates and I grew up, I didn't want to just.. Work a 9-5 until I died. There has to be something more than that. So, after I heard about shifting success stories I decided "fuck it. Either I'll wake up here and carry on with my day or I'll wake up somewhere much more peaceful. Happier. With life and freedoms that I could never imagine in a million years." Many shifters became shifters because they were at their wits end. I see so many people who admit that if they hadn't found shifting, they would have killed themselves. At the end of the day, even if it's "fake", it's given a lot of people hope that things can change in a time that seems to be getting increasingly darker.

Now, I think a lot of us were at one point where you are. "It doesn't seem real, but it's interesting enough to try". "Oh it's cringe, but it does seem enticing". Let yourself be cringe. Shifting is for those who want it all. For those who don't want to slave away for the rest of their lives. For those who can see greener pastures on the other side and wish to hop the fence. Ask yourself this : what truly is there to lose? Our community is very open to those who are simply curious, and we acknowledge that not everyone will be interested in participating in our practice and that's ok too :) Whatever you choose to do, do what makes you happy. You hurt no one by deciding to do something for yourself <3

#Asks!!#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting blog #shifting #shifting realities #shifting motivation #desired reality #shifters #shifting consciousness #loa #void state #voidblr #void method #shifting methods

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k-evans-reads · 8 months ago

Text

The Spare

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Intro l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 5,672

The door shut firmly behind the Princess’ Private Secretary, leaving the four highest-ranking members of the Royal Family in the oversized room alone. An uneasy silence lingered past the echo’s reverberation, only adding to Rosalie’s anxiety. She shifted on the plush cushion, running her hand along and smoothing her skirt as she cleared her throat and looked towards her father, asking, “What did you hear from the doctor? Do they know for sure what’s going on?”

The prim-and-proper King was unusually disheveled, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt, bare feet, and unstyled hair. It was always ingrained in the Royal Family from a young age that they were to uphold the image, the one of privilege, beauty, and elegance. She could still remember from a young age the uncomfortable hours on end she’d stand straight at parades, waving and smiling at each cheering member of the public as her feet ached and cried for relief. But as the years went on, the more strict the rules would become. Seeing the vast juxtaposition of the way her father looked now only reminded her how serious this was.

Her brow arched as she took her father’s appearance in more - the heaviness in his expression, the rigidity of his frown, the hunch of his shoulders. “They’re still looking into things further but what they know for sure is that it was a heart attack,” King Joseph began, pausing as his eyes danced over the portraits of their ancestors hanging from the walls around them. Then, Rosie felt a pang of sympathy as the familiar mask slipped over Joseph, as if an outsider or staffer walked into the room - the way the tension and strain left his body in a microsecond as he sat up straight, his frown leaving his face. “They think I’ll be fine but I probably do need some time to recover.”

A soft tut echoed from her mother’s lips - one that barely toed the line of daring to challenge him - before Genevieve gently corrected his words to their children, “No, they told him he had to have time to recover.”

Rosie’s head turned to look at James as he opened his mouth, but then took a beat then let out a breath as he delicately asked, “So what does that look like?”

The tension returned to Joseph’s body and in Rosalie’s stomach as reality set in for everyone. Everyone knew that this was a lot more than just a family worried about their father’s health, it meant so much for them and the country and she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as he answered, “Probably a month off completely.” The King admitted unhappily to the Prince and Princess. Subconsciously, her posture straightened as his eyes landed on her, and she avoided the desire to avert her eyes under his occasionally-scrutinizing gaze. “Which would mean that I do need you to take over my duties during that time, and Rosalie, I will need you to officially take James’ spot on the tour. I know you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to fill in but I am going to need you.”

“It’s fine, we want to do what we can to help you recover,” she began, pausing as she struggled with how to word her concerns. Navigating a relationship with her father had always been a little bit difficult when they had moments that were more normal and familial and others that were all business. Royal life may have been hailed as glamorous and exciting, but Rosie knew how complicated and burdensome it could be. At times they felt like a real family, loving and caring for one another and having honest conversations but other times, they had to stay restrained, knowing that no matter what, the crown always came first. The truth of the matter was that - at times - her father’s role and actions intimidated her. Rarely did she have the loving paternal figure at her side as a child, more often under the care of the Palace nannies while her parents fulfilled their roles. Her thumbs itched to fiddle nervously but she restrained herself, instead finally asking, “What are we going to do about touring the coast with all the protests going on? Are we cutting that out?”

The King nodded, his lips pursed as he sprung into what was likely an already prepared response, “Well I think-”

But Genevieve rested her hand on the King’s arm, causing him to cut off as she reminded him, “No, you need to let James decide. He’s the one who’s taking on your duties, remember?”

A huff of air left his lips as he nodded shortly. “You’re right,” he conceded. “James, what do you want to do?”

The eldest was quiet for a long beat, his fingers tapping lightly on the plush arm of the couch. He stared straight ahead as he thought, his eyes landing on one of the portraits as well until his gaze turned to her, asking, “Rosie, do you have thoughts?”

A smirk appeared on her lips as she looked at James, catching the amusement in his eyes at the action. “Cancel the tour and don’t make me go,” she muttered playfully, ignoring the frustrated sigh from both of her parents.

“Very funny,” James chided, lightly elbowing Rosie in the hip as her father stared at her plainly.

But Rosie shook her head, her eyes staring at James. “You know I’m not kidding,” she reminded him. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes quickly moving over her father before she looked at James again, remembering her earlier conversations with him about their younger sister. “I do terrible on these things anyway, I think Annie should go instead.”

Quickly, the King interrupted the siblings, declaring, “That’s not happening, Anneliese is too young and inexperienced.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rosie thought back to how different things had been for Annie as compared to herself and James’ childhoods. While Rosie and James spent much of their adolescence bouncing in and out of boarding schools, then stepping into international tours accompanied by the King and Queen, Annie had it different. She often was left behind at home, seen as “too young” while her siblings juggled their prestigious and elite schooling with the duties of active royals, despite their adolescence. There’d always been this double standard, and while she would do anything to keep Annie as far from the machine of Royal life, she wished she had the same choice for herself.

James simply arched an eyebrow, looking at the King and reminding him, “Aren’t I making the decisions here?”

But Joseph scowled, pointing out, “Well I haven’t heard you make one yet.”

Several beats of silence passed, the tension rising between James, Rosie, and Joseph. Finally, James huffed out a breath, running his hand over his shirt. “….Rosie you have to go,” he murmured, avoiding her eyes.

There was silence for a moment and Rosie could see how pleased James’ decision made their father. But despite that, she could see the struggle in James’ face as he contended with putting his sister or her duty first. “If we cut out the coastline visits though, then it would only be a month,” she began quietly, watching James carefully. “We would avoid the protests, and then I’d be back and dad can do the rest once he’s better. This seems like a great solution.”

Both father and son rolled their eyes at Rosie’s insistence in getting her way. She was steadfast in the fact that for four years now, she’d done more than her fair share of public service - spending more time on airplanes, trains, ships, and in cars than in her own bed. She’d missed so much, she missed her friends, getting to focus her efforts on her charity outreaches, and getting to see Annie grow into the young woman she was now. But despite that, it seemed no one else realized the toll covering for James and Joseph had taken on her.

“More like a great way of you getting out of this,” James retorted, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire next to them and the echo of footsteps passing by outside the closed door.

But Rosie’s brows furrowed at James’ words, frustration rising as her opinion continued to be ignored. “When James got back I was supposed to finally get a break,” she reminded them, her voice quiet but firm. And that had been the deal - she had graduated from university, then was thrown into four years of public duty with no downtime to breathe, all so James could serve in the Air Force. Any time she brought up needing a few days to herself, it had always been “Once James is home, you can… you’ll have all the time you need.” It seemed as though that promise was not only empty, but had been forgotten.

But the look in her father’s eyes showed Rosie that he remembered that promise - and yet he was continuing to break his word. “I’m sorry Rosalie,” he began, pausing delicately before adding, “But the positive of me being less visible while I recover is that it gives you the chance to be more involved.”

A scoff escaped Rosie’s lips and she didn’t care to stop it, letting her anger rise a bit. “What have I been doing the last four years, then?” She asked incredulously.

“You’ve been standing in James’ place and in his shadow but this is your chance to be Princess Rosalie, all on her own and be who you are, not fulfilling James’ role,” Joseph tried to reason with her, and she arched a single brow at him. Standing on her own, outside of James’ shadow?! As much as they all liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she’d always been and always would be in his shadow. The first-born, golden child of Ellington. She’d never hold it against him, but she didn’t think there was a single conversation she’d ever had with anyone, whether other dignitaries, tutors, or acquaintances, where James wasn’t brought up despite his absence. When you’re constantly reminded of being the second-best, the spare, and the insurance when compared to the eldest, who had their own miserable circumstances as well. It was all impossible, and it seemed Rosie stepped on the Palace’s lines much more than anyone had in the past.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but the pressure forced upon Rosie seemed to rival it, even on the best days.

“I think we all know I can’t be who I am,” she started, her voice quivering in her rising frustration. She ran a hand along her skirt, fingers coming to rest on an errant strand of fabric that her seamstress evidently missed. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, we just all know that none of this is me. I was happy to stand in for James while he did what he wanted being in the Air Force but I thought that it was finally my chance to have some space.”

James’ eyes showed the weight on him, the internal struggle between duty and family. He cleared his throat quietly before whispering, “It’s only two more months, Rosie.”

“It just seems like there’s always something else. You think it’ll be the end and then the rug gets pulled out from under you,” Rosie muttered, her fingers lightly twisting the fabric, careful to not pull it from the skirt.

Joseph’s expression seemed heavy, his eyes pointed towards the ground as a hand covered part of his face, deep in thought. “I know it’s not ideal, but we need you to do this,” he decided, eyes coming to meet Rosie’s before he gestured to James. “James is the ultimate authority on it though.”

The Prince nodded, his shoulders squaring resolutely. “We don’t have a choice. Rosie, it has to be you,” he agreed, his voice strained despite his confident demeanor.

Rosie shot a look at the silent Queen, her eyes watching the conversation between her husband and eldest children intently. As she met Rosie’s eyes, the young woman shot her a pleading look, all but begging her to speak up.

Their mother hummed, giving Rosie a tight-lipped smile. “I think there is a security risk though,” she conceded sweetly, and Rosie’s shoulders slouched as she let out a small gasp of relief as her mother - the normally silent, meek woman - spoke up on her behalf.

But James ignored the magnitude of the situation, simply stating, “Then we’ll get more guards and protection.”

Rosie didn’t suppress the eye roll this time, huffing as she did so. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. It had always been the King and Prince show - it always would be, that was simply the nature of their life. The heirs mattered above all else, and their opinions shaped the lives of every person in the family. But she had continually struggled with the idea of letting it dictate her life, she wanted nothing more than to have some semblance of autonomy, despite knowing it was never in the cards, at least not now.

But it didn’t mean James’ insistence didn’t hurt. She felt he always understood where she was coming from, always looked out for her and Annie. But now, she was really seeing James step into the leadership position for the first time.

“Or I just don’t go, just reminding you all that it’s an option,” she muttered, waving a hand. Her frustration was cresting as the two men ignored not only Rosie’s, but her mother’s points as well - points that in all honesty scared Rosie.

The situation outside of the capital of Ellington was tenuous at best. Tensions had been rising for months now, and while King Joseph’s decision to keep silent may have been smart at first, it had done nothing to turn the tide since. And now to be sent into the lion’s den in all honesty scared Rosie. She was no stranger to security protocols, risks, and threats, but this had much eclipsed any past risks Rosie knew of. Each member of the Royal Family was under a microscope, never deviating from an internal schedule, always accompanied by several security members. And that was just what Rosie knew - she was sure there was more she was not privy to that James and her father were aware of.

A sudden loud crackle of the fire brought her out of her thoughts to find James rising, moving to pour himself a drink from the carafe on the long table nearby. She watched the sharpness of his shoulders, the unfamiliar stressful strain as he moved, causing Rosie to arch a brow at the sight. “I have to be here to step up in dad’s place. Rosie, you’re going to have to get used to this more.” James spoke dismissively.

She couldn’t help but look at James, her brows raising as fast as her anger - reaching levels she never knew James could elicit. “I’m the one who’s been doing this the past four years, remember?” Rosie asked sarcastically, her voice anything but amused.

He avoided her eyes, a hand reaching to run down his face as he attempted a placating, “It’s only two more months…”

She pushed out a breath, ready to respond when a sharp knock sounded at the door. All eyes landed on the oversized double wooden doors as the King’s Secretary waited for any protest before the doors pushed open.

The sudden intrusion didn’t seem to take anyone by surprise, but Rosie’s brows quickly furrowed as the aide stepped aside to reveal Edward Henry - the Communications Secretary for the Royal Family - and quite honestly Rosie’s least favorite person, who was carrying a large stack of papers.

She’d long struggled with the ‘duty’ aspect of her birthright position, the responsibility forced on her by an institution when all she wanted was normalcy. But between a lack of a proper childhood, wanting a normal university experience, being outspoken by nature, and maybe having a few brushes with untrustworthy so-called ‘friends’, she’d landed herself on Edward Henry’s bad side… quite literally for life.

At her father’s warm greeting to Edward after his obligatory bows to each member of the family, Rosie’s frustration grew. She knew she shouldn’t have come - she’d had a bad feeling about this meeting ever since receiving word of it at breakfast. Her suspicions grew when she realized Annie was omitted from the group, removing what would’ve been Rosie’s only true ally from the room and all conversations. But now, to see that the intention was never to plan a tour or shift schedules around to accommodate the King’s sudden change in health…. It was to focus on her.

The Palace and Royal Family both had struggled at times with her, Rosie could admit that herself. She felt as though she could never do things right, never be the person they tried to mold her to be. She was rigid in ways the Institution needed her to be pliable, soft in the ways they needed her to be tough, and sour when they needed her to be sweet.

“You’re joking me right?” Rosie finally spoke, arching her brow at her father as he warmly shook Edward’s hand, seeing the label ‘ITINERARY’ scribbled across the files he began handing to her father.

The King’s face hardened instantly. “Rosalie, don’t even start,” he warned, holding out his hand for Queen Genevieve to greet Edward.

But Edward was unphased, used to her often brash ways. “Princess, we have your itinerary to go over and I’d like to discuss some different things we’d like you to incorporate in your speeches at each one. Also we have picked out which charities you’ll be endorsing along the tour,” he informed her, handing copies of the folders to her mother and brother before sitting in the empty armchair between the two occupied sofas. His hand moved to hand her a copy, but ceased when the furious expression on her face was noticed.

A bitter chuckle escaped her. “So none of this mattered,” she mused, frowning as she looked at her father pointedly. “No matter what I said or felt or even what James decided didn’t matter because everything was already decided on,”

But the man simply shrugged as he paged through the plans, brows furrowed while he sat down on the sofa again. “We had to make a plan,” he informed her, as if it was that simple.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosie pushed herself off the couch. “Fine, then make your plan. It’s obvious you don’t need me here for any of it,” she informed them, dropping her eyes as she moved towards the shut doors. She could hear the sharp breath her mother took at her outright rudeness towards not only Edward, but James and her father. A scowl crossed Rosie’s lips as her eyes prickled with tears and she focused on the sound of her heels as she raced to the door.

If anyone attempted to say anything or chastise her, she didn’t hear - nor did she care - as the door practically slammed behind her. The guards standing outside the door pointedly avoided her eyes, telling Rosie everything she needed to know about what they heard. She had already turned to leave the wing when that thought made her stop. Her lip was quivering as she met the older guard’s eyes - Albert, she reminded herself, he’d accompanied her to riding lessons as a young girl - and she was surprised when he silently led the other guard to stand across the hall instead without a word, giving her the encouragement she needed.

She stood just beyond the door, giving herself enough space to make an escape if needed, but close enough to be able to hear the conversation inside.

Despite her mother’s objection, they’d clearly moved on from her outburst as she heard her father speaking, his voice carrying easily. “James, there’s a lot riding on that tour. I don’t have to tell you with all the political tension going on and protests, everyone is going to be looking at this tour and how it goes.”

“What your dad is saying is you’re going to need to keep an eye on Rosalie,” her mother said, and Rosie’s brow furrowed. She’d been doing just fine the last few years - handling double duty without anyone batting an eye. Why is she all of the sudden not good enough? But she caught herself as she thought - remembering that the golden boy had been occupied with serving Ellington in the Air Force. They must’ve had to make due with “second-best”, and Rosie’s best was no longer good enough.

But she was surprised when James was the one to speak, defending her and saying, “She’s been in my place the last couple years though and she’s done fine.”

A bitter chuckle escaped Edward and Rosie wanted nothing more than to disappear at that second, admittedly it was all she’d ever wanted. “It depends on the way you look at it,” Edward pointed out.

But James wasn’t going down without a fight, pointing out, “Well the press love her. I mean, there isn’t hardly a week that went by that the people’s princess wasn’t splashed on some headline.”

The scowl returned and the tears threatened to leak from her eyes as Edward finally contributed, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to her as he said, “And that’s the problem. You may love Rosalie’s personality but currently she’s in line to the throne after you and represents the royal family. If she were the youngest it would be different but she has to start taking this seriously and be more neutral.”

She tapped her fingers against her side nervously. Rosie had always known that this was the opinion of her amongst those on the outside of the family, who worked to polish and prime them. They’d attempted to do so to her for years, but they’d always gotten along like oil and water. But to be confronted with this and to overhear this, to know her own parents felt this way, hurt.

However, a small flutter of hope settled in her as James again attempted to defend her, his voice unwavering as he said, “She’s right, she has stepped into my role the past couple years and done well.”

“We just don’t think she fully sees the weight of this because you’re the one who’s next in line to the throne,” Joseph admitted, and Rosie had to do everything she could to keep herself quiet.

Yes, James’ role was unique and seemed miserable in itself. He had no choice in his life, in his future, in anything - even more than Rosie. But to live this life solely being second-place, second-loved, second-everything to someone was a different kind of miserable. You couldn’t compare the two, but neither were ideal, and for anyone to try to frame it that way completely ignored everything both she and Annie had gone through.

The grating returned to Rosie as Edward - the absolute bane of her fucking existence - unnecesarily added, “Ellington has only ever had two Queens both of them knew how to fall in line. Nobody knows what to do with Rosalie and it’s not a great look for the palace.”

“People relate to her though!” James insisted, his voice rising.

“Royals aren’t supposed to be relatable, if they are, what’s the point of having them?” Edward challenged.

There was a long silence and Rosie found herself stuck between wanting nothing more to leave and forget this all ever happened, just like she had so many times before in her life, and wanting to creep closer as the fear of missing something grew as the silence continued. Her mind was still racing, fighting against itself as she stood frozen with nearly trembling ankles when she heard James’ voice. It was soft, as if the fight had left him as he helplessly asked, “…So what do you suggest I do?”

“Just do what you can to help this tour go well. A lot hinges on this and her,” Joseph encouraged, his voice suddenly softer as well. A slight scowl graced Rosie’s lips at that realization, knowing that James often got a side of their parents that neither she nor Annie ever got. He’d gotten the most time with them - whether because of duty or love, it almost didn’t matter. She saw how much Annie yearned to have the relationship James had with them, and she found herself wishing for it at times too.

Her ear pressed closer to the overly-ornate wooden doors, yearning to hear more, but she wished she hadn’t as Edward explained, “What the Prince said isn’t wrong. The public is for the Princess, but in this tumultuous time, we need her to present more stability. People need to be comforted knowing that the royal family is stable and has the country’s best interest at heart.”

She stared at the floor, brows furrowing and confusion flooding her at those words. Unstable? Her? Sometimes she felt like the only sane person in this equation.

Her confusion was shared as James - his voice strong and firm - pointed out, “I don’t think Rosie can really be categorized as unstable.”

But Edward simply chuckled again, explaining, “Saying things off script in speeches or breaking social norms for royalty is viewed as unstable.”

“We just need her to be a constant unwavering person that people can look up to, especially when it got leaked about my health.” Her father spoke strongly. Rosie felt a pang of sympathy - if this heart attack had never happened, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening. But it all seemed too convenient, the empty promises of privacy and autonomy, the sudden return of James. “We need steadiness. This tour is what can bring it and allow everyone to see Rosie as the one to help bring it.”

“I know she can do it, I just wish she didn’t have to,” James admitted, and Rosie sighed at those simple words, knowing just how much honesty was behind them.

She wasn’t surprised when her father spoke again, his words reeking of lessons a life in the public eye and service had given him. “Our life is a heavy burden at times, but whether good or bad, the crown has fallen on us. That includes Rosalie and we have to make sure we steward it well, and that matters more than any of our personal feelings.”

Tears burned at Rosie’s eyes as the weight of what they were saying sunk in. She wasn’t stupid, she was painfully aware of her image and what people thought of her. Her entire life was dictated by it and what was or wasn’t on the front page of a newspaper. The past four years she had done everything in her power to push down who the real Rosie was, trying to step into James’ shoes to allow him to have the bit of fleeting normalcy they all craved but always seemed to elude them. It had nearly killed her to shove so much of herself down, but she had done it for her duty, her country, and - most of all - for her brother. But now to hear that it wasn’t good enough? It felt like rubbing salt in the open wound on her heart.

She had absolutely no idea what else they could possibly want from her short of ripping away every single part of her personality. And the worst part? It seemed fruitless. No matter what she did, it just always fell short. Her only saving grace that kept some hope alive inside of her was that James was back. He was her only shot at being able to get some of herself back that had been buried little by little.

Once Rosie heard the group stand and pleasantries being exchanged among her parents and Edward, she raced away from the door and down the hall, not wanting to be seen. She wiped furiously at her eyes as she grappled with the onslaught of information, but quickly had to push it from her mind as her assistant called out to her, plastering a smile on her face as Claire began to explain what they needed to do to prepare for the gala honoring the military that evening.

___________________________________________________

Rosie had kept the smile glued to her face all evening, determined to be on her best behavior. While she may have chosen the other option in the past - the “fine, I’ll be what you think of me” option - today, she couldn’t. If she did, she knew what was at risk, what was on the line, and she just couldn’t stomach willingly doing it tonight.

She’d made her rounds, thanked as many service members she could find, listened to as many stories as she could stomach, laughed as many times as she could without a hint of humor actually being behind it, and had finally escaped to the side room with Claire to fix the strap of her heels when James slipped into the otherwise-empty room.

She avoided his eyes with everything in her, instead taking a long sip of her champagne to quell her nerves when James came to stand next to her, his voice low despite Claire’s proximity.

“Rosie c’mon, I know you don’t want to do this. I get it. I wish I could give you a break but I don’t have a choice,” he pleaded.

Her shoulders hunched, knowing he was truly stuck. He had to live up to what their father expected - what everyone expected - but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to go against her big brother. “I know you don’t, and I don’t mean to make it harder on you. I just suck at all of this, James.” she explained.

“No you don’t. The press is for you, everyone loves you,” he reminded her, his voice soft and sweet. She appreciated the sentiment - but it felt empty to her after what she had overheard merely hours earlier.

“I just was hoping I’d finally have a break,” she admitted with a whisper, not knowing how to put it more simply than that.

James sighed, his frustration at the impossible situation evident. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he murmured, and there was no doubt in Rosie’s mind that he was honest. “I love you and you know I’m going to do what I can to make it easier.”

“I love you too and I don’t want to be difficult, I really don’t,” she explained, turning as Clarie finished and scampered back into the party, leaving the siblings alone with the guards standing by the doors. “I’m just… disappointed I guess and I feel bad because I don’t want to make this worse on dad or you. I just hate doing these tours.”

“I had an idea though,” James began, pausing as Rosie arched a brow at him. He took a deep breath, evidently steeling himself.“What if I asked my friend to be your pilot for the tour? You remember Chris, right? My best friend from the Air Force? He’s standing out there right next to the bar.” He asked, pointing through the glass doorway to Chris.

Rosie sighed, not feeling like any of this was a good idea - especially from James - after this afternoon. There was just too much going on, Rosie feeling like so much had been shaken today. “Can’t Martin do it?” She asked, her voice meek. She knew if she had to go on this tour, if she had to deal with the risks and the tensions associated with it, that comfort would do her good. And Martin - the longtime Palace Security Head, who all but attended all of her birthday parties growing up and was truly like a father to her, would fit the bill.

“I need to pick someone who can also be with you to certain events to be your security and we both know Martin is getting too old for that,” James explained, nudging her with his elbow. “C’mon, would I stick you with someone shitty? Chris is the only person who treated me like a normal guy. You’d get along with him great and I can trust him.”

“I just…” Rosie’s voice started to trail as the feelings inside her were unable to come out of her mouth.

James’ eyebrows arched as he reached out a hand to rest on her arm, softly prodding, “What?”

There was so much Rosie wanted to say, but she knew at this point it didn’t matter. Everything had been decided for her as it had been for so long and she just quietly admitted, “I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

Although James moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug, Rosie felt anything but comforted. For years she had looked forward to James returning from the Air Force, especially with his voluntary choice to stay in the service for two years longer than was customary for royals. She remembered that call, James explaining that being in the Air Force was the first time he had felt normal, been treated normal, and felt like he had a bigger purpose and that he wanted to stay longer. Rosie knew it meant she had to step up to stay in his shoes longer than anticipated but she was willing to do it for him.

But it was finally going to be her turn. She was going to be able to pull back from the spotlight, disappear the way she had wanted to for so long and try to have some semblance of a normal life. All of that had been ripped away from her in what felt like an instant, prolonging and making her presence on the country even bigger which was the absolute opposite of what she wanted, but Rosie knew she didn’t have a choice.

Two months. She could do anything for two months. And then she’d be free.

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b3d-r0t · 3 months ago

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N33t K1Nk 4 L1FE!!! PART 1

A little horny story/post (idk how long it's gonna be yet)

Cw: slob kink, stink kink

Alex unlock the front door and let out a long sigh. He was completely exhausted after working a double shift, again. He was working doubles more and more trying to keep him and his partner, Naomi, financially afloat. It was proving extremely difficult and draining for Alex. Alex walked into the kitchen to a familiar sight. Dirty dishes filling the sink, food spilled on the ground and counter, and an overflowing trash can. He gritted his teeth and directed his gaze to the bedroom, where Naomi was scrolling Instagram on her phone in bed. That was, indeed, almost always where she was. Alex felt the resentment bubble up inside him. He thought to himself, "why should I have to work so hard, for so long, when she doesn't do anything?"

This was not a new issue for the couple. When they met, Naomi seemed perfect, albeit a little naive at times. She was kind, thoughtful, interesting and intelligent, a fellow student at the college Alex attended. The two met at the very beginning of one of the semesters, and immediately hit it off. However, after just one semester of school Naomi decided to drop out. She went back home to live with her parents, who were very rich and had paid for her schooling. Her parents encouraged her to look into job opportunities, even though they were fully able to support Naomi, in order to teach her hard work and responsibility. Being a child in a rich family, Naomi was accustomed to getting whatever she wanted, when she wanted it, and her parents wanted to teach her about the real world and begin a successful career or return to school or do... Something ...

But Naomi didn't. Once she arrived home from college, she laid down in her bed, opened her phone and started scrolling. Naomi's mom and dad expected that there would be a rest and transition period before Naomi started seeking out a job. But Her parents watched in anxiety, and eventually disgust, and finally anger, as days turned to weeks turned to months of Naomi bedrotting all day, doing nothing productive whatsoever. They also noticed her wearing the same clothes for days at a time, and began to smell a foul odor eminating from her room and Naomi herself. The room was nearly uninhabitable -garbage, dirty clothes, rotting food, her filthy bathroom she never cleaned, it could've been identified as a biohazard. The only time she would leave the house was to see her beloved Alex. She would shower, dress up nice and tell endless lies to Alex about what she had been up to. As far as he knew, she had landed a job at a local store that she was quite happy with. She didn't think he would want to be with a 'loser' like her so she kept the reality hidden.

Eventually Naomi's parents grew up fed up with their daughter that they gave her the ultimatum to find a job or get out of their house. Naomi sat in bed anxiously, worried the free ride had come to an end and that she would have to start actually taking on some responsibilities and putting effort into life. Just then, a bright idea popped into her mind. Alex has a nice apartment of his own and a good paying job. He was also so head over heels in love with Naomi that she knew she could manipulate, control and dominate. Alex truly would do anything for her, and she knew that, and saw the perfect opportunity to secure the life she wanted for herself-that is, one involving no effort or work or sacrifice from her. A life where she could completely leech off another person to have everything she wanted, regardless of how the other person felt about it.

Naomi picked up her phone and called Alex, putting on her best fake crying voice. "M-my parents k-k-kicked me out because I got fired from my job and can't pay them rent... Can I please come stay with you? Just for a bit at least, until I find a new job and my own place?"

Alex reacted predictably, coddling and comforting Naomi and welcoming her into his home, happy to be able to help her and for the chance to get closer to his partner.

Alex never would've imagined that Naomi would use him or turn into what she became after moving in with him. He wasn't prepared for the entitled, lazy, disgusting brat of a girl he found himself in a relationship with. Naomi had gotten very good at masking her true feelings, intentions and nature over the years in order to trick others and manipulate them into doing or being whatever she wanted.

MORE TO COME....

#mysophile #mysophilia #girlstink #slob kink #stink kink

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fuegogiiirl · 4 months ago

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Four walls

Pairing: Javier Peña x Helena Sotomayor

Word count: 5.4 k

Summary: Helena gets pregnant with Javi's baby and decides to keep it a secret. When he accidentally discovers it, their relationship takes an unexpected turn.

(The story is set before the narcos meeting at Las Margaritas in Medellín).

Tags: angst, slow burn, romance, hidden feelings, pregnancy, hidden pregnancy, mentions of sex, fluff

Author's note: This is my first time writing Javier Peña and my first time posting my writing, so it really is a speacial piece to me. I've always loved Javi and Helena together and hoped we'd get to see more of them in Narcos, or at least get to read fics about the two of them. I see many people felt the same but still, there's so little about them. I'm here to change that, enjoy! xx

P.S.: English in not my native language, so pls be kind.

It's not possible. That was her first thought when she found out the week before.

This can’t be real. They had been careful. She was on the pill.

And yet, it was true, and it was the last thing Helena needed in her life: she was pregnant with Javier Peña's baby.

She knew from the start that it was different with Javier, unlike anything she had experienced before. She was used to being objectified, being tossed around and used by men, something she had learned to endure in order to survive. But with Javier, it had always been different. From the very beginning, he treated her as an equal. Everything felt so easy and before she realized it, she was in too deep.

She knew it was a dangerous game, letting herself get lost in the daydream that she might have something real with him. She knew how he was with women; his reputation echoed through the brothels of Bogotá. She was also aware that their relationship was rooted in two things: her role as his informant, and sex. Still, it had been going on for several months, which was unusual for both of them, and over time, their dynamic had shifted. She began refusing his money and staying over for the night; he started coming to her place during the day and even picking her up and giving her rides from time to time. No doubt, the sex was amazing. But there had to be more to it. Over time, he involuntarily let her see more of him – a side that contrasted with the cold, grumpy exterior the world saw - and she liked what she saw. He could be tender, holding her in his arms and stroking her back with his calloused fingers. He could be genuinely interested, asking about her life and telling her bits about his own. He could be caring, always making sure she felt good with him. He could even be worried, and although he tried to hide it, it didn’t get past her. It was there in his deep brown eyes, in the way he scanned her from head to toe whenever he saw her, searching for any sign of discomfort or injury.

She wondered if he was like this with all his girls. She had been tempted to ask Vanessa but she never did, afraid that the answer would shatter something inside her. Without knowing the truth, she could hold onto this little fantasy, keeping it alive in her heart as days in Colombia were getting harder and harder. She knew she did mean something to him, that he cared for her in his own way and even enjoyed her company.

So she shut the alarming voice in her head and locked it away in the back of her mind, letting herself enjoy this state somewhere between reality and fiction, where she gave all of herself to this man and forced herself to not think of the fact that she was most likely just another fling to him, one of a hundred others. She even went so far as to hand in a fake medical report to the brothel about a made-up chlamydia infection and disappeared for weeks. To Javier's bed. She knew it was very selfish, that she should be thinking of her son and "working" for the visa to get them out, in hopes of a better and safer life, but she couldn't help herself. She was craving to be in his arms. He always made her feel so good. He touched her in a way that was always reverent, even when he was treating her a bit rough, never causing her any pain, only delicious pleasure. He always kept her close to him, having an arm around her waist or on the small of her back, pressing soft kisses to her lips, cheeks, jaw, neck or gently stroking her hair as she fell asleep on him. It was as if he always wanted her close to him, close enough to feel her, to touch and breathe her in, something she was not familiar with from the other men she encountered during her "job". But then again, Javier was different from any other men she'd met her whole life. He made her feel like nobody else. He almost made her feel... loved.

It was a silly thing to think, anyway. And holding the medical report confirming she was pregnant, it not only felt silly, but overly irresponsible, too. She was about two months along, which aligned perfectly with the time of the faked sick leave, meaning there could possibly be only one person who could be the baby’s father: Javier Peña.

She had already been suspicious, but the ultrasound left no room for guessing: she was pregnant. She had never felt so alone, so scared, standing in front of the old hospital building, clutching the papers to her chest and letting the tears stream down her cheeks.

She knew he wouldn't want this. She knew very well he wasn't a relationship-kind-of-a-man, let alone a family man. He had told her about Lorraine, about how he left her at the altar and deep down she knew that someone who left his own fiancée on their almost wedding day would not commit to his informant, and the thought hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Plus, she already had her son, Mateo. If she couldn't imagine Javier with one kid, she sure as hell couldn't with two.

She also knew that while Javi wasn't one to do relationships, he was a man who took responsibility. She knew he was a man with a good heart who would see it as his obligation to help her in a situation that they had hurled themselves into together. She knew he would push the right buttons to get her a visa without a second thought. Had she wanted to abort the baby, he would look for a clinic where it was safe and would pay for the process. Had she wanted to keep it, he would provide financial support and make sure to get her safely to the U.S. He would make sure to take responsibility and do his obligation.

But she didn't want to be an obligation to him. She wanted to keep this baby, that she was sure about. But she couldn't bear the thought of finding a check from Javi in her mailbox every month, a sour reminder of how she and their baby were nothing but an obligation to him, something he didn't plan or want but felt the need to take care of, in his own way. She didn't want his money. She wanted all or nothing with Javier Peña, she’d realized. She wanted to be his all or his nothing.

And as her heart broke at the realization that she would never be his everything, she chose to be his nothing instead.

She decided it was best she didn't say anything about the baby. This way, at least, she would save herself from seeing his cold expression when she tells him she is pregnant with his child, from the painful conversation about how he doesn't do commitment and from whatever unexpected reaction comes out of this man at an announcement like that.

It took her a few days to compose herself, she canceled her plans and even refused to see Javier, telling him she was sick. She only went to meet up with Vanessa after she’d called her that they were going to need her the next weekend in Medellín. Helena said nothing about her pregnancy and agreed to join them for the weekend.

This was her chance. Whatever this meeting in Medellín was about, it seemed to be important. If she could get useful intel for Javier, she would demand the visa she had been long waiting for and get out of this country with her son for good. What she would do after that and where she would go, she had no idea. But it was an issue she didn't have to face right now.

Right now, she had one thing to do. She needed to see Javier for the last time before Medellín, to talk through the plan. She knew he wasn't exactly fond of sending her in and she postponed telling him about it as long as she could. Merely living in Colombia was like skating on thin ice, let alone mingling with cartel members and spying for the DEA. Javi knew this better than anyone, and while he expressed his concern, he didn't do a thing to speed up the process for her visa at the embassy. Helena knew she was good at her job, and that Javier most likely wanted her to gather more intel for him before letting her go.

Helena sighed and looked into the mirror. She had no energy to dress up and get herself pretty for him, the pregnancy giving her a hard day today, making her sick with nausea and feeling weak... not that it mattered. Not that there was a point in trying to impress him.

She grabbed her bag and her keys and brushed away a single drop of tear rolling down her cheek. She could do this. Just for one more night, she needed to pretend that everything was just as it had been before. Then she would go to Medelleín and do what she had been doing for the past couple of years for the last time, so she could get that visa. Then she would leave Colombia with Mateo and the baby... Javier's baby.

Don't. She told herself, the thought making her heart drop.

Javier's baby.

She felt another tear roll down her cheek, followed by another and another. She sank down with her back against the wall and let the tears flow.

She was gonna be late, but she couldn't care less.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Javier stood by the window in the living room of his apartment, the scent of whiskey, burnt coffee from the morning and smoke heavy in the air. He took a drag of his cigarette, attempting to let the stress of the day wear off with each inhale and exhale, and glanced at the clock.

Helena was supposed to be at his place by eight. It was already a few minutes past eight, and he caught himself starting to worry about where she might be. It was unusual of her to be late.

Lately, she had been spending most of her nights in his apartment, a habit Javier had gotten used to way too easily. There was no amount of whiskey and smoking that could ease his stress and anxiety as much as being with her - losing himself in her scent, in her beauty, burying his face in the crook of her neck and feeling the soft skin there while he moved inside her… There was nothing that could compare to this. The thought of her being with him and not getting in bed with all those disgusting men at the brothel also made him feel better. He obviously worried about her and wanted to protect her from the horrors she already knew very well. And as a man, he couldn't bear the thought of sharing her with anyone else. He didn't want to share this woman with anyone else, even though she wasn't his.

Yet, the next weekend he would have to share her with the most evil, most sickening men of this whole country and the mere thought of it made his stomach turn. His mind replayed their conversation from last night, over and over, how she reminded him that she needed that visa and how she reluctantly told him that she was going to Medellín during the weekend with all the other girls. And no matter how much he hated the thought of sending her in, he knew this could be their golden ticket and they could both get what they wanted. She would get the visa and he would get intel that could give them a few steps ahead of the narcos. All he had to do was settle every detail with her tonight.

If he wanted to be honest with himself - which Javier wasn't often - he did it on purpose, delaying Helena's visa. She had given him intel during the months they had been seeing each other, though less and less as she started spending more of her time with him. Still, what she had provided could have been enough that, if he wanted to, he could have pulled some strings and knocked on the door of the right people at the embassy. He knew the day would eventually come when he would have to follow through with his promise to her, and he had no doubt that once she had the visa, she would do everything in her power to get herself and her son out of Colombia in the blink of an eye. And for some reason that Javier didn’t fully understand – and maybe didn’t even want to -, the thought of never seeing her again made him feel cold and empty.

It was a strange feeling for him, and an instinct rooted deep within him told him that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be... that him and Helena were never supposed to become more than transactional. That they were heading into dangerous waters where his only response should be to cut things off and run. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to tear away from her and simply never see her again. He wanted to selfishly keep her all to himself and pretend that he didn’t acknowledge how his heart beat faster whenever he saw her, how he felt faint and calm all at once when he fell asleep with her in his arms, or how she was the first thing that came to his mind as he woke from his sleep at the early hours of the morning. He pretended none of this existed in his heart, though with each passing day, it was more and more difficult. He wanted to pretend she was just another woman he was sleeping with and liked enough to spend time with, just another informant in his bed.

Except there were no other informants in his bed anymore. How could there be, when he spent all of his free evenings tangled in the sheets with her. How could there be, when she was the one he called when he felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of his job weighing down on him during the days. How could there be, when all of those other girls in Bogotá sparked no interest in him anymore, not even the slightest.

Sometimes, when he was drinking alone in his apartment, he dared to wander into those dangerous waters and absentmindedly lose himself in wondering if she felt something, too. She had to, he thought, picturing the way her deep chocolate eyes gazed at him with so much longing, adoration and vulnerability. Or the way she would curl up at his side and lay her head on his chest after they finished. Or when she held him in her arms and ran her fingers through his dark locks, listening to him complain about what an asshole everyone at the fucking embassy was. Javier was aware he possessed a charm that made women practically drool over him, but this felt different. This couldn't be just about sex. But then again, he always seemed to find an excuse to convince himself that this couldn't be real, that it would never work between them, that they weren't meant to be, that the circumstances weren’t right, that he wasn't a man made for relationships... he was a DEA agent living a dangerous life, and she was a prostitute, his informant, who was determined to leave Colombia. And that was all there was to it.

He downed his whiskey and poured himself another glass, his eyes flickering to the clock. It was quarter past eight. He was already starting to beat himself up for not offering to pick her up from her apartment as the streets were not particularly safe to walk in Bogotá, especially after dark, when there was a soft knock on the door. He let out a breath of relief and went to answer it.

Opening the door, he wasted no time pulling her into his arms, swiftly closing the door behind her and backing her up against it, his mouth on hers in an instant. This was the moment he’d been waiting for all day, this was what kept him sane amidst all the chaos. Now, he swore not even God could stop him from having her. Unless…

„Javi” she pulled away just enough to look up at him, gently but firmly pushing him away. „Not tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but loosened his grip around her, giving her some space. It was unlikely of her to decline him, but now that he took his time looking her up and down, he could tell something was off. She looked pale, her eyes were glassy and the usual sass and confidence she carried were gone.

„What’s wrong?” he asked, concern evidient in his voice. He reached up with one hand to gently cup her cheek, coaxing her to meet his gaze. Sometimes even he himself was surprised by how soft he could be with her. But he couldn’t help it.

„I…I’m not feeling well. Just a bit under the weather.” she murmured, looking away from him briefly before returning her gaze, seeming nervous, as if debating whether she should say more or not.

„Just sick… like what I had last week.” she finally added. He didn’t say anything just nodded, however, the concern didn’t fade from his eyes.

„At least let me get you something” he offered as he walked her over to his brown leather couch.

„What can you get me from a kitchen that’s always empty?” she replied, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. He grunted, turning away to hide the smirk forming on his face. She knew him too well. The fridge was indeed empty except for a few bottles of beer, but he managed to find some old teabags at the back of a cupboard. He didn’t bother boiling water – hell, he didn’t even know where or if he had a kettle - , so he run hot water from the tap, filled a mug and tossed a teabag in it.

„Javier Peña making me tea? Who would have thought I’d see the day…” she teased, her mood lifting just a little as she took the mug from his hands with a small smile.

He looked at her, still feeling a bit helpless, wishing he could make her feel better and take away whatever was bothering her. He couldn’t explain it, but there was an unease in her that hadn’t been there before - a hidden anxiety that she had either hidden very well from him or that had only recently appeared. She didn’t look like someone with the flu or a virus. She looked… uncharacteristically nervous.

He wanted to ask her if something had happened that scared her or made her feel unsafe. Maybe someone had been following her around, or even worse, threathened her. Things like that weren’t uncommon in Bogotá. Or she was nervous about going to Medellín. He just wished he knew how to ask her, how to offer her comfort, but shame on him, he didn’t know any method that didn’t involve getting her in his bed and burying himself between her legs. And she clearly wasn’t in the mood for that.

„So you gonna tell me what your plan is for me?” she had caught him eyeing her and broke the silence, pulling him from his thoughts.

„Sure. Right.” he sighed and sat down next to her on the couch. As he started explaining why this weekend was important for them, he reached for a cigarette and lit it. He took a drag and exhaled, the scent slowly filling the space between them as he talked.

Helena had never been bothered by the smoke; they’d even shared cigarettes quite often on evenings like this. But now, she wrinkled her nose at the smell and was about to make a comment on his chainsmoking habits when suddenly clutched at her stomach with one hand while the other flew to cover her mouth. She forced herself to collect herself long enough to stand up and make it to his bathroom.

Now Javier was even more puzzled than before. He stood up from the couch, helplessness taking over him once again. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table and decided to wait a little, giving her privacy to take care of herself. He heard her moving around in the bathroom and flushing the toilet, but when a few more minutes passed and she still hadn’t come out, he decided he just couldn’t bear to stand there helplessly, without at least trying to help her.

„Helena?” Javier knocked softly on the bathroom door. „Do you need anything?”

For a moment there was only silence, but then he heard her speak in a weak, low voice.

„Can you get me my meds? It’s in my bag, I left it on the couch.”

He quickly walked back to the couch, grabbed the black leather bag and opened it, rummaging through its contents, but he couldn’t find what she asked for. Frustrated, he spilled the contents of her bag on the couch; keys, wallet, a lipstick, earrings, drawings from Mateo, checks to pay, a medical report…

A medical report. He hadn’t meant to pry. He was just spilling everything out of that goddamn bag to get the medication for her as quickly as he could, but now he had seen it, and his eyes were glued to it. Glued to the medical report, with „pregnancy confirmation” reading at the top of the piece of paper that had crumbled at the corners.

Javier lifted it up and just stared, a knot forming in his stomach. It was as if his world – that was already filled the consistent presence of danger, stress and chaos, and wasn’t in need of a new layer of complication – froze. She was pregnant. His Helena was pregnant.

It can’t be. Not her. Not now.

He felt the blood drain from his face and the room started spinning around him. He didn’t register hearing her calling his name from the bathroom or walking to the living room to see what was taking him so long. When he came to, he saw her standing a few feet away, her beautiful face filled with horror, and a hand clasped over her mouth - not because of the nausea this time. She was looking at him and he knew she knew he discovered what she had been keeping from him.

„When were you going to tell me?” his voice was hoarse from the schock when he finally spoke, emotions chasing each other inside him; anger, fear, betrayal, helplessness…

„When?” he repeated more forcefully when she didn’t answer.

„I… I wasn’t.”

He couldn’t find the words to say, his expression cold as stone. He was frozen.

„It’s yours, Javi.” she whispered, her voice breaking.”The baby…it’s yours.”

He already knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew. He knew it the moment his eyes spotted the pregnancy confirmation she clearly hadn’t meant for him to see. He sanked down on the couch, burying his face in his palms, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. A child. His child. Their child. What was he supposed to do with that?

He couldn’t believe she wanted to keep this from him. He knew he wasn’t the type of man to provide stability and a loving home for a family. He knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t cut out for that. Still, the thought of Helena hiding this from him, potentially for his whole life, made anger boil in him.

„Javi, please, say something…” she spoke in a low voice, desperately needing him to say whatever was on his mind, to end this heavy silence.

„How could you keep this from me?”

„I thought you wouldn’t want to know.” she replied, her eyes welling up.

„Wouldn’t want to know?” he jumped to his feet and started pacing the room that suddenly felt too so small, his voice rough with frustration. „You don’t get to decide that. Don’t you think I at least have the right to know?”

„And what would be the point of that?” she exclaimed, raising her voice and taking a step toward him. „You are all about your job and sleeping around. If you can’t commit to me, how could you commit to a baby? What do you know about raising a child? It’s not like you are part of their life when you feel like it, when you want to make time for them between your informants. It’s not like you can disappear when you get bored or scared or whatever the hell it is. You can’t suddenly change your mind and decide this is not the life you want to live, and then think you can just solve everything by sending me a fucking check every month.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now and his heart broke at her desperate monologue, each word a knife to his chest. And it hurt even more because he knew he deserved everything she threw at him. He had given her every reason to think that way about him. He could have changed that, though. He could have admitted to himself what she meant to him and what he felt for her. And he could have told her. Had he been honest with himself - and with her -, maybe she would have felt she could trust him with this, even though she knew this was not the life he planned.

What life he planned for himself, he didn’t know anymore. He had become so caught up in chasing Escobar that it seemed to be the only purpose in his life. He’d never seriously considered fatherhood, not even with Lorraine. He never really thought about it. He wasn’t strictly opposed to the idea of having kids one day, but he never seriously considered starting a family with someone, either. But suddenly, the situation had presented itself, without him asking for it. And it was something both of them were responsible for.

And while he was still upset with her, his anger toward her began to fade, replaced by an even stronger anger at himself. For not being honest with her, for not making her feel like she could trust him. A wave of guilt washed over him as he imagined how lonely and terrified she must have felt, carrying this burden alone in a word filled with danger and cruelty. He thought about all the times she was there for him, letting him find comfort in not only her body, but in her company, too. She was always there to listen to him or just hold him in silence when words felt too heavy to say… And now he wanted to be there for her, too. He didn’t want her to face this alone… He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her that he would be there for her, that they would get through this together.

„You can’t go to Medellín.” he blurted out finally, his voice much calmer.

„Seriously, Javier? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

„Helena- „ he started, but she interrupted him.

„Well, let me enlighten you” she snapped. „Now I’ll need to take care of not one, but two children on my own. I need that fucking visa.”

„You aren’t on your own, Helena” he said softly, taking a few steps toward her until he was close enough to touch her.

Her breath hitched as his words took her by surprise and she looked up at him, eyes filled with disbelief and hesitance. This wasn’t the answer she was expecting to hear from him. But she was listening, waiting for him to continue.

This was his chance to make things right.

„I…I know I’m not the best person to do this with, but I want you to know that you are not alone in this.” he took a breath, taking a second to steady himself in this moment of intensity. „Fuck, I don’t know how to say this right, and I know you deserve better, but I just want you to know that you are all I think about. There is none else. And you are wrong if you believe I can’t commit to you.”

The words tumbled out of him, raw and uncomposed - but finally, honest. Javier watched her gaze soften and fill with more surprise, and a hint of relief and hope. She looked so vulnerable like this, and he wanted to tell her more, say the words that were trapped on his tongue, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he raised a finger to lift her chin, his thumb gently stroking her cheek and she let him, seeking comfort in his touch and his confession. She stepped closer to him until she could feel the warmth of his breath. The air in the dimly lit room had shifted, the tension between them slowly beginning to dissolve. Javier tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, as if to test the waters and she responded by placing one of her small hands on his arm, feeling the muscles under the thin material of shirt.

„I’m sorry I didn’t say anything” she said after a few minutes of silence, darting her eyes away from his face. „I didn’t want you to feel forced to be part of something you never wanted.”

„No” he traced her bottom lip with his thumb „I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like you could tell me anything.”

What he did next surprised both her and himself. Gently, he placed a hand on her stomach. It was still too early for anything to show, but his trembling fingers traced it knowing the little life they had created was already there, growing. The touch was tender, laced with fear and a newfound curioustiy, mirroring the overwhelming swirl of emotions inside him. But amidst it all, he also felt something new, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. And in that quiet, intimate moment a bond formed between them – not only between him and Helena, but between him and this child whose existence had just been revealed to him so very recently.

Helena watched him, completely moved. She almost had to force herself to pull her gaze back just enough to meet his, the final question lingering in her eyes.

„Javi…” she started. „If we are going to do this, I need you to be all in. I need all of you.”

He understood what she was asking for. She was asking for what they’d both been secretly yearning for, something Javier had been afraid to admit even to himself. He could barely believe he needed an unexpected twist of fate like this to muster up his courage to face his feelings. He never thought he would ever feel ready, he still didn’t. He was still afraid he would mess it up. But he knew that he didn’t want to let her down, he wanted to be there to protect her and make her happy. And he might not have been dreaming of becoming a father, but standing there with her in that moment, it was as if suddenly all the pieces they had created together over the past few months had fallen into place.

„I meant what I said about committing to you. I want to be there for you. I… I want to be with you.” he said, looking her in the eye.

„I want to be with you, too.” a smile formed on her face.

He responded by bringing his lips to hers, sealing his promise with a kiss that said more than words could. She kissed him back and in that moment, it felt as if nothing else in the world existed - no cartels to bring down, no danger to hide from, no fear, no pain - just the two of them in each other’s arms in his quiet apartment that, for the first time, felt more than just four walls.

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