LikeYouKnowWhatever
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Lisa’s mum is dying, and she has one last wish: to see her daughter happy and in love. What starts as a harmless favour between friends turns into a full-scale performance, complete with convincing their families, their friends, and everyone else in their orbit that the relationship is real. It should be easy. After all, they’re only pretending.
Falling for each other? That’s definitely not part of the plan.
Bookmarked by LikeYouKnowWhatever
26 Feb 2026
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The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.
Or:
Another Swarla affair fic in which they are both morally questionable but they’re soulmates so it’s probably okay
Bookmarked by LikeYouKnowWhatever
25 Feb 2026
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Lisa Swain is the architect of order: Captain of Manchester City, a minimalist perfectionist, and the self-proclaimed "Ice Queen" of the league. She views football as a science to be mastered.
Carla Connor is the definition of chaos: Captain of Manchester United, a local hero fueled by adrenaline, instinct, and the roar of the crowd. She views football as a war to be won.
For ten years, they have been total opposites. For five years, they have been bitter rivals. But this season, the tackles are hitting harder, the stares in the tunnel are lingering longer, and the hatred is starting to feel dangerously like obsession.
When the rivalry spills over the touchline, Lisa discovers that the only thing more terrifying than losing control is giving it to the one person she’s sworn to destroy.
Bookmarked by LikeYouKnowWhatever
06 Feb 2026
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Carla Connor doesn’t do careful. Lisa Swain doesn’t do reckless.
Somewhere between a two-year-old who chooses her people fiercely, a grief that never quite loosens its grip, and a woman who feels like home far too quickly, boundaries blur and hearts hesitate.
Bookmarked by LikeYouKnowWhatever
01 Feb 2026
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Lisa comes to in a hospital room on a firm, unforgiving bed. It’s quiet save for a slow beeping from a nearby monitor.
She sits up quickly to scan her surroundings. White walls, machines, white curtain.Her eyes drop to scan over her own body, but no discernible injury could be found.
Legs, fine. Torso, fine. Arms are…her eyes catch the metal on her finger.That’s not her ring.
OR
Lisa has amnesia and forgets the last four years (including having ever met Carla).
Bookmarked by LikeYouKnowWhatever
18 Jan 2026