#they'd have a yellow kitchen

[wild-flowerhoney]

moonseeker raising harry after losing everything and trying their very best to keep his parents' memories alive but also move on together is so important to me

[robinsnest2111]

just saw a recipe video for a cake that looks just like a cake my late grandma used to make and now I got tears streaming down my face oops

[darknight3904]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘨. 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.4 𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Wade Wilson was never one to believe in fate. Why should he? He was immortal after all. But, here he stood, in The Void watching two variants stare at each other like they'd seen a ghost.

"Oh. My. God." He spins to face his new yellow-clad friend.

Logan glances over at him, a heavy scowl on his face.

"Careful, Peanut, you'll get wrinkles." Wade snorts, "It's her, the one I told you about...or well a variant of Mr. Deceased Anchor Being's lover."

Wade turns away from Logan, looking at the woman who seems to be working out how to murder his yellow-clad friend. Said friend looked like he was going to combust or faint, Wade wasn't quite sure.

"Can I just say, you totally kicked ass on that farm. Too bad that writer of yours killed ya off. How bland, dying at the end!"

"You're an annoying prick, you know that? The woman scowls at him

"Ha! Twin scowls, you and Wolvie are a match made in heaven!" Wade grins under his mask

"Not interested," Logan says almost too quickly before stalking off to the pile of alcohol in the corner.

The blood manipulator lets out a scoff, "Like you'd even be given a chance."

"Oooo hostile. I smell a spin-off. Maybe it'll even be longer than three chapters this time...maybe not! All I know is that it'll be chock-full of tension, romance, and a sprinkle of some good old-fashioned fucking."

"Shut the fuc-"

Eight months had passed. Eight months of being free of The Void. Eight months since an annoying red prick, with his equally aggravating friend, came into your life.

"Morning, Pumpkin." Wade greets you, with a nonconsensual "boop" to the nose.

"Don't touch me." You grumble, reaching for the fresh pot of coffee.

You add milk and sugar andtake a slow sip, savoring the flavor. Despite his mouth, Wade picked fantastic coffee flavors whenever he went grocery shopping.

"Caffeine, the way to a woman's heart." Wade sighs, sipping at his own mug.

"Don't you have cars to sell?" You ask, glancing at the clock which read half past nine

"It's Saturday, my day off." Wade grins, "Home all day, baby!"

"Fantastic," Logan mumbles, entering the kitchen.

"Morning, Wolverine." Wade greets the hunk of muscle

No reply leaves his lips as he nudges you aside, desperate for coffee as well.

"Ever hear of excuse me?" You snap, stepping a few paces to your right, nearly colliding with Wade.

"No," Logan says, sipping at his disgusting black coffee.

"And another great day starts. How many arguments today? I'm betting on at least ten." Wade predicts looking between the two of you.

"Twenty," Logan says

"I'm not giving you that much of my time, Logan."

His name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. God, even his face pissed you off.

"Don't stare too much, bub. You'll give me the wrong idea."

You want to throttle him. And no, not in the sexy way.

A cool fall breeze waves through your hair as you push the window in your room open. Laura was the perfect roommate and even lit an apple-scented candle before heading out for whatever she had planned for the day.

Not even the sounds of Wade and Logan arguing would ruin your morning as you snatch little Mary from her spot on Wade's bed. Depositing the ugly (affectionate) dog onto your own bed, you lounge next to her, a book balanced on your lap while one hand pets her little head.

"Mary, can you believe that Daenerys is bald in the book? Can't believe HBO left that out."

The little dog next to you lets out a snort, followed by a sneeze, followed by a huge glob of snot.

You groan in disgust and rush to the bathroom, needing to wash the dog snot off. You loved her, but sometimes that dog was disgusting.

"Hey! I'm shaving!" Logan huffs when you push him out of the way to access the sink

"I'm covered in dog snot." You explain, leaning over to wash your hands

"Shit. Knicked myself."

You look up at Logan who now has a small stream of blood running down his neck to his shirt collar.

"You're fine."

Sure enough, it closes up a second later and Logan grumbles a curse at you.

"Don't get your panties in a twist." You pat his shoulder, undeterred at the growl that leaves his throat.

"You stained my shirt." He says

"Uh, that was your blood, not mine." You scoff trying to leave the bathroom when he steps in front of you.

"Wouldn't have happened if you didn't shove your fatass in here to wash your damn hands." Logan glares

"You think it's fat? Thanks, I've been doing squats before bed."

You should've expected it really, yet somehow you're always caught off guard as his hands grasp your shirt, lifting you up and tossing you out of the bathroom and into the living room. The coffee table meets its end when you slam into it.

"What. The. Fuck." You groan, standing up and shaking wood chips from your clothes, one of them even pierced your arm, warm blood staining your shirt, "This was my favorite shirt."

You could just tell the blood to leave the fabric, it would be easier like that. But, this wasn't about ease, it was about principle. And the man in front of you? His principles were totally fucked up.

"Now we're even." Logan smugly says

"Okay, guys let's take five deep breaths And just reel it-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wade."

"Right, sorry. We can have our fight later, Peanut. I'm saving a special new knife for you."

Logan is distracted by Wade's babbling and caught off guard when you use your powers to pin him to the wall.

"Did you know your blood, moves faster than other people's?" You ask, tightening your hold on him when he struggles, "Makes it a bit harder to control, but I can make it work. After all, it's certainly fun to see you pinned down like this."

"Go ahead, bitch. Blow me up, pop my head off. It'll all grow back anyway." Logan snarls

"No one's popping anything. This is a new rug!" Al shouts from her spot in her recliner

You think about it, you really do. Blowing his leg off, or an arm, you'd done it only once before after he got too drunk and puked into one of your shoes just a month after escaping The Void.

"I have work." You mumble, letting him slide down the wall. You lean down to his level as he sits with his back to the wall, "Call me a bitch again and I'll rip your dick off and shove it up your nose."

"I'd love to see that. Have a good day at work, Pumpkin!" Wade calls as you disappear back into your room to get changed, ignoring Logan's disgruntled look.

Thedore's Books is one of the few places you actually like in this universe. You'd stopped in just a month after Wade pulled you from the void, planning to just buy a book to keep yourself busy. Your now coworker, Matt had convinced you to fill a job application out. Two weeks later, you were standing behind the counter, ringing books up.

"You know, you claim to suck at customer service, yet people leave Google reviews raving about you." Matt sighs looking at the computer screen, displaying another positive review

"I do suck. Some people are just too dumb to realize it." You say, fixing the display of this month's bestseller.

"Well, I wish I had this many five stars for service. The last good review I had was last month from that old guy." Matt groans

"Was he the one that smelled like sardines?"

"That, and he had a total hard-on the entire time I was telling him about the buy one get one sale."

"Gross." Your nose wrinkles in disgust

"Right? If you're gonna be a perv at least be a hot one." Matt says

You roll your eyes, "You are a desperate whore."

"Me? You're the one who raves about that roommate of yours? The big manly one who came in with that burn victim a few weeks ago."

You spin around in horror at the idea of "raving" about Logan.

"I don't rave about him!" You declare, "He pisses me off and I need someone to vent to!"

"Oh please. If he wasn't all over you, I would've hit on him the moment he walked in that door. His arms were bigger than my head." Matt sighs dreamily

"Logan isn't all over me." You shake your head, "And you're welcome to go for it. I'm pretty sure his sexuality is on the spectrum. Wade claims that he caught him watching gay porn like last week."

"Is Wade the cancer burn man or the old lady?" Matt asks

"Cancer man." You answer, cursing when your hand bumps a stack of books, sending them to the floor.

"Whatever. All I know is last time Mr. Muscles was in here, He was staring at your ass when you went to pick up a box to restock a shelf.

"You're delusional."

That evening you return to a peaceful apartment. Or well, semi-peaceful, no one was bleeding or missing a limb at least. Instead, an intense Mario Kart competition was taking place, to your amusement, Laura was beating both men who were cursing her out.

"A red shell?! Are you fucking with me?!" Wade screeches as Logan's character speeds past him.

"Pizza bites?" Al asks when you greet her.

You accept the luke warm food and plop down on the couch next to Laura.

"Nice." You compliment her as she crosses the finish line in first place.

"Don't compliment her, she's a cheater." Wade groans as he finishes in third place, "She blue-shelled me and stole my thunder. Then, P.T. Barnum here hit me with a red shell just now! Where is the honesty in this home?"

"Wade, that's just how the game is played," Laura says looking at him.

"Zip it, Jecki Lon, don't you have to be a Padawan in like half an hour?"

"There's something wrong with you." Laura shakes her head in dismay

"You're right. There is." Wade grins, "Now, I have an appointment with the mound of devil's dandruff in my room. You comin' Althea?"

Al gets up and moves faster than you've ever seen her move, following Wade down the hall, the promise of cocaine seems to have cured her old age.

"Wanna have a rematch, kid?" Logan asks Laura, ignoring you.

Laura turns to you, handing you Wade's controller, "Wanna play?"

"I'd never pass down a chance to beat this fool at anything." You grin, ignoring how Logan flips you off from the other side of the couch. Poor Laura, sandwiched between the two of you on this shitty Ikea couch.

Laura slowly stood up and collected the joy cons from the coffee table. Two hours of Mario Kart, many arguments, and an episode of The Office later, you and Logan were finally asleep. She turned around to stare down at the two of you, still sitting up but facing each other, asleep on the couch like the old people you were.

Nearly a year ago you had shown up in the void. Seeing one dead parental figure was a shocker but when Logan showed up with Wade, Laura thought she was seeing things. You had never mentioned your version of Logan and she had always assumed you just didn't have one. But, the instant hostility and the past eight months had her thinking otherwise. She had asked this new Logan if he had you in his universe. He of course brushed her off and told her to drop the subject.

Laura looked between the two of you wondering what each of your pasts were. She wondered if there was any possibility of getting back what she had lost so many years ago.

The sound of whimpering wakes you up the next morning. A sharp pain in your neck is the first thing you register as you open your eyes, the next thing is Logan's face a mere six inches from yours. He looks peaceful while he's asleep. Soft snores leave his nose and the pinch of annoyance that's normally in his brow is gone. You can't help but admire him, sure he was a pain in the ass but he was good looking at least. Fuck, he's got long eyelashes, why did men always have better eyelashes? It made you so jealous.

Logan's eyes flutter open and big brown eyes meet your own. For just a moment he stays still, keeping your gaze, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Another whimper fills your ears and the trance is broken. You and Logan jump off the couch, putting ample distance from each other. You turn to your right to see Mary sitting at the door, gently scratching at it.

"I knew Wade wouldn't be able to take care of a dog." You sigh, "Hold on sweetie, I'll take you out, let me run to the bathroom first."

You slip into your shoes and clip the leash to the little dog, trying to ignore the fact that Logan is pissing with the door open and you can hear his fucking urine.

"Wait," Logan calls as you open the door

You turn and look at him in confusion as he pulls a flannel over that stupid tank top he wears too often.

"Wanna go grab coffee with me?" He asks

"Thought you hated me." You say

"Last night, before you got back, Laura asked me to try to uh be civil with you. Said she asked you to do the same." He murmurs

"I thought she was joking." You deadpan

Logan looks at you like you're stupid.

"Don't give me that confused kitten look." You sigh

"Fine, fuck off then" Logan grumbles

You watch as he begins to take his flannel back of probably ready to go back to bed. You glance down at Mary who looks ready to piss all over the floor, her little face wins you over,

"Fine, fine. You win, let's get coffee."

Sure enough, Mary is filled to the brim with pee and barely makes it down the many steps of the building. You stand there in the grass waiting for her to be done, Logan right next to you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"That dog's like, 12 pounds, how is she still peeing?" Logan asks staring down at her

"Wade must've forgotten to let her out before going to bed last night." You sigh

"Yeah, all that cocaine must've rotted his brain," Logan says

"If there was anything left up there to rot. Did you know the other day he asked me if there were birds in Canada?"

A smile works its way across Logan's face and he shakes his head.

"I told him to fuck off and then he told me movie star Ryan Reynolds would know." You sigh

Surprisingly, Logan actually lets out a laugh at that. It must be shocking because even Mary looks up at him, finally done with her peeing episode.

"Who even is that?" He asks

"Does it really matter? Wade's full of shit anyway."

Logan agrees and then falls into step with you, slowly walking on the outside of the sidewalk. He watches you carefully as you compliment the dog who has picked up a stick half the size of her body. In his world, you had always loved cats more than dogs. He wondered if this version of you even liked cats, you were always cooing at Wade's dog like it was your damn kid.

"So where are we getting coffee?" You ask

"What?" He asks dumbly

"You asked so I figured you had a place picked." You sigh, clearly annoyed

Logan racks his brain for a good coffee joint. The best he can come up with is the diner Wade showed him once that sold it for 99 cents a cup. What was he thinking asking you out for coffee without a plan?

"What about here?" He asks, stopping in front of a Starbucks.

"Seriously? You roll your eyes, "We're in New York, there are a million local joints and you choose a shitty chain?"

"Sorry, I don't have elite coffee taste." Logan growls, suddenly pissed off, at least he wouldn't go back to Laura without trying to get along with you. It wasn't his fault this version of you was so damn annoying.

You sigh and glance down at Mary who looks up at him. Why does he feel like he's being judged by not one but two women right now?

"How about...we go to Duke's? They've got awesome lattes and even give out dog treats." You suggest

Logan doesn't give a shit where he gets his morning coffee. The machine back at the apartment would've been his first choice but whatever Duke's was would be good too.

He can't help it, really. He doesn't want to come off as weird yet he finds him watching you out of the corner of his eye. You're so fascinating to him, even when you piss him off like you did yesterday.

Sometimes he feels sad about it all, his own universe, how he failed you. Yet, now here he was, savior of a universe and standing next to you again. The immediate hostility between the two of you, he couldn't place where that was coming from in himself. Sure, he had no idea what your version of Logan had done, yet he couldn't find a reason for his anger. Perhaps it was just that you were aggravating. The idea of you, or well a different version of you, was a bit mind-boggling to him.

He stands next to you in line and even lets you order for him. He insists on paying however can't help but regret it when he hears the total. Where does this place get off on charging these prices?

"I would've paid." You say as the two of you sip your drinks on the way back to the apartment.

"I asked you to come out with me. I was planning on paying anyway." He brushes it off

He can hardly believe it. You've been with him for nearly an hour and the two of you have yet to really get into a real argument.

"I've gotta admit this wasn't that bad." You say, he swears he hears a hint of happiness in your voice.

"See? Guess I'm not a total asshole." Logan finds himself saying

What was he doing? Surely he wasn't flirting with you?

You let out a small hum, "We'll leave that one up to interpretation."

Logan glances down at the dog that walks along happily at your heels. He swears it's mocking him, just the way it's owner would.

The droplets of rain that hit his shoulders have him looking up quickly.

"We'll be fine, the weather said no rain today." You assure

You're wrong, very wrong. Less than twenty seconds later, the sky opens up and he's drenched. He curses you out and you match his energy, telling him he's a total shithead. He reaches down and scoops the dog up, slightly cringing at the feel of her wet skin on his.

"Let's go." He grumbles above the storm.

"Well, well, look at you two," Wade comments as you enter the apartment.

"Eat shit, Wade." You grumble

Logan sets the dog back on the ground and Wade immediately starts talking to her in that baby voice.

"Can't believe you said there wasn't going to be any rain." He says

He means it as a joke, a gentle tease to ease some of the past 8 months of tension.

"Fuck off, we wouldn't have even been out there if you hadn't asked me to go out with you." You simmer

"You asked her out?! Peanut you should have told me."

Logan shoots the other man a glare that has him shutting up.

"Yeah well, we wouldn't have gotten caught in the rain if we didn't have to walk thirty minutes to your stupid coffee place." He finds himself saying.

What's he doing? He enjoyed the walk for crying out loud. But here you were annoying him again

"Oh please, you asked to go to get coffee and then didn't even have a place picked! Sorry, I had to pick up your slack."

You reach out and point an accusatory finger, tapping it harshly into his chest.

"Fuck off. I'll never ask again then." Logan declares, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Good." You say before stomping off to your room like some kid.

Logan groans and slumps into the recliner, ignoring Wade's comment about his clothes still being soaked through. You were insane, jumping to conclusions, and don't even get him started on the severe lack of humor towards him. It's like you were the bitchiest version of you the universe could've offered to him. What the fuck was he going to do?

Part Two

Woah, talk about a gear shift. A new Logan to write for, and a new version of Reader (an angry one, we'll get to that later *winks*)

If anyone is here from Promise, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope you also enjoy this series as well.

Quick housekeeping notes:

For purposes of this fic, Laura is the same one from Promise. She has lost both Reader and Logan (old man one).

This story will have a different tone than the last one due to this Logan being a different guy than Old Man Logan.

Blind Al has a three-bedroom apartment in this because I said so and I'm the boss. Logan rooms with Wade, Reader with Laura, and our queen, Al gets a whole room to herself.

This story will have a separate tag list from the one I used for Promise.

Please comment below to join it.

Tags:

@kellyxo1

[ceesimz]

Reverie - Part 2

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - part one here

Hey, welcome back for part two :) Thank you so much for the love, this genuinely wouldn't have been posted had it not been for the reaction to the first. Again, more things I wanna mention before reading. This part includes the aftermath of a bad meltdown, but the actual meltdown part is not written in. This was a personal decision because quite honestly there is no way to sum that experience down into a few words, it's impossible. The best example I have seen of a meltdown in the media is the character of Quinni in Heartbreak High on Netflix, if you're interested then you should watch that scene in the first season. I hope you enjoy this second part, thank you for taking the time to read it, let me know what you think :)

Your first Champion’s League game for Barcelona, a group stage game against PSG at home, didn’t quite go as planned.

From the first minute of the game, things weren’t clicking out on the pitch for you. Passes to and from you weren’t connecting, you were losing duels you definitely shouldn’t and you were missing key, game-changing shots. 

Half-time came way too quickly, and to everybody’s frustration, the score was still 0-0. As everyone sat in the changing rooms receiving treatment or refreshing themselves with energy drinks and whatnot, the result wasn’t the thing at the forefront of Ingrid's mind. It was you. She could see defeat written all over you before the match had even concluded. It didn’t bode well what this game was doing to you. Before she could do anything, she was called away for a tactical discussion. Then the break was over and everybody was being ushered back to the pitch, and her opportunity was gone.

Rough challenges, an open goal miss, and a yellow card later, you were done for. Your streak was over, you knew what was coming and there was no way to avoid it.

Nobody heard from you for ten hours, nobody saw you at any point after the game, and quite frankly nobody knew where you were. Ingrid knew though. And if her gut feeling about what had happened was correct, she was going to need back up for this one. She hadn’t dealt with a situation like this for a while now, and she felt a little out of her depth.

“Why didn’t anybody stay with her last night?” Alexia asked with a deep-set frown, rushing to your flat alongside Mapi and Ingrid. “You guys live in the same complex as her, why didn’t you check up on her?”

“I don’t know, Alexia! If I could go back and change it, I would, I swear.” Ingrid replied desperately, looking through her keys to find the one to her old flat. 

“Hey, let’s not argue. She won’t be in any fit state to deal with that, we can hash it out later.” Mapi attempted to de-escalate the situation whilst taking the keys from her girlfriend's shaking hands and quietly unlocking the door.

The thing they'd all been worried about made its presence known immediately. Ingrid’s heart broke, and she’d never regretted a decision more in her life.

By the door, your bag had been thrown haphazardly towards the shoe rack, causing the contents of both items to be strewn across the entryway. As the trio stepped past the mess and entered the main room, their concern doubled. There seemed to be two smashed glasses in the kitchen, one of the framed prints from your lounge wall had fallen down, a plant had been knocked over, yet there was no sign of you. The curtains were drawn, the lights were off, and the flat was deathly silent.

“What do we do?” Alexia questioned quietly, afraid of shattering the calm that had seemingly settled after the storm, and unsure what the best way to go about this was. She'd never really experienced anything like this before, at least not to this degree.

“Can you two clean up a bit? She will be in bed, I should go to her first I think.” Ingrid decided as her eyes were glued to your closed bedroom door.

“Of course. If either of you need anything, princesa, just shout for us.” Mapi reminded her, knowing that whatever was in store for her behind your bedroom door could be mentally taxing for her too. She nodded, and at that left the two Spaniards to clean up as she went off to do some damage control.

What greeted her when she entered your room was a sight she hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since the several hour journeys the pair of you would make throughout Germany to meet up, not since national camps, not for years. 

Ingrid found you as a disfigured lump under the duvet, the only thing visible being your hair peeking out just slightly. Again, the lights were off and the curtains were drawn, but with it being morning there was enough daylight bleeding through the soft material to let her look around the room. Just like the rest of the flat, it was in a concerning state of disarray. That wasn't at the forefront of her mind though right now though.

“Elskling?” She called out softly, though got no response. Her only option was to step closer, around to the side of the bed you lay on to try and get your attention.

You were lay on your stomach, cheek smushed against the mattress, and most unnervingly of all, your eyes were open and staring straight ahead at the wall in front. The look on your face was hauntingly empty, yet agonised all in one.

“Hey.” Ingrid whispered, kneeling down before you, yet you didn't even acknowledge she was there. 

It was that moment that the defender noticed the tear tracks, the redness to your face, and the internal agony and undertones of fear present in your blood-shot eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat, broken at the sight of you, before gently placing her hand on your back atop the sheets.

“If you can hear me, min engel, just give me a tiny nod at least. That's all I ask.” The relief that flooded her when you did exactly what she said was immense, it filled her from head to toe, so grateful you were at least present in the room now. 

“Thank you, that's all I needed.” She smiled sadly, delicately pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “I'm going to sit here with you for as long as you need. María and Alexia are here too but they won't come in unless you say otherwise, they are just cleaning up for you. I love you, søster, I am always going to love you no matter what.”

Her words, her compassionate and caring words, broke through the trance you'd been in ever since your explosive meltdown had ended however long ago. Ingrid's unconditional love that she consistently showed towards you made itself known yet again, it being quite possibly the one sole thing that could get through to you in this precarious moment. 

The taller woman panicked the moment she saw you tearing up again, worried that she had said the wrong thing, but then your arm reached out from under the covers and grasped desperately at the hand on your back.

“It's okay, it's okay. I've got you. I'm here, you're safe, and I've got you.” Her free hand came up to wipe the tears that fell silently, the repetitive movement of her thumb across your wet cheeks a comfort you clung onto. Meanwhile, the arm of hers you'd grabbed now had both your arms wrapped around it, eyes scrunched tightly shut to keep the tears at bay as much as possible. 

It wasn't possible though, they were coming out thick and fast with no way of stopping them.

“Let it out, snuppa, you will feel better.”

And let it out you did; all the anger you directed at yourself the second the final whistle blew the day before dissipated, and a fatalistic sadness washed over you. You don't know how long you spent sobbing into the mattress, all you knew was that Ingrid was there and she wasn't leaving. She repeated reassuring words over and over until they finally registered, eventually helping you to calm down.

All that was left was an exhausted, now mindless shell of you, stuttered breaths sounding through the quiet room every so often. Ingrid's hand was tracing light circles on the palm of yours, whilst she was quietly suffering through a numb arm that you held onto still.

“Have you had anything to eat or drink since yesterday?” Ingrid asked, her assumption confirmed by the slight shake of your head. “Can I leave for a few seconds to get you something, or shall I ask one of the girls to do it?”

“Stay.” You could barely get the single word out; your throat was already dry and hurting from the exertion it had experienced in the last twelve hours or so, nevermind the mental challenge it was to speak.

“Alright, I will stay. Is it okay if one of them comes in then?” Another tiny, barely noticeable nod. “I will text them, thank you.”

No more than a few silent minutes later, there was a polite knock on the door, shortly followed by Alexia walking in with a tray in her arms. On it was a glass of water, a variety of snacks, some electrolyte tablets and even a box of tissues. She had really thought of it all.

Alexia’s eyes glanced up to where you were, before turning back to Ingrid with a questioning look in her eyes. Ingrid only shook her head, and Alexia took that as her cue to leave. It was clear, from just one momentary glance, that Ingrid still had more progress to make with you, so Alexia quietly slipped straight back out of the room.

When Ingrid turned back to you, all she saw was the sixteen year old version of you, crying in a hotel room hours from home after being dropped to the bench for an upcoming match. She saw the seventeen year old inside of you, the one that had gotten way past drunk at a party and had collapsed into a blubbering, destroyed mess on your bed after near enough carrying you home. She saw you at twenty, breaking down when she revealed she was moving to Wolfsburg, fumbling through the congratulatory messages whilst trying to come to terms with the fact your best friend was moving to a whole different country, feeling like the world was collapsing around you. You, twenty-three, leaving your last national camp, physically and mentally ruined, unable to talk, body and mind exhausted after a night of tears, frustration, and a soul crushing amount of remorse at the decision you had no choice but to make.

Every version of yourself, past and present, was right there in front of her; every version needing the support she was giving. Every version was still alive in some way, they would never die. With this disorder, things don’t come and go, they’re always there, ready to be triggered at any given moment. She had seen this one and the others a handful of times before, but you’d have them with you for the rest of your life. Your own cross to bear, something she’d never come to experience or understand, but if she can carry the load with you then she’d give up everything else in her life to do so.

“Are you ready to sit up? Ale brought in some stuff for you.” She said, her hand resting on your cheek and caressing it lightly. 

You only shrugged, not quite ready to leave your space yet. If you moved now, you had to face the world again, had to recover from the night’s meltdown and move on. It was daunting, nothing short of terrifying, and the longer you could delay the process, the better.

“The three of us have cleared our day, should you need us. We’ll go at your pace, do things how you want. I’ll be right here.” 

You found solace in Ingrid’s company; having her here meant you could relax and focus on something else other than the noise in your head. Your thoughts were having a whale of a time up there, you couldn’t land on a single one as they were spiralling around too much to pick one out. It was exactly that - just noise. But then you’d avert your eyes slightly to the left and land on a certain dark-haired woman, and everything went silent. Knowing that Alexia and Mapi were just a few metres away behind the door might have made you panic, but you trusted them both and knew that they were equally concerned about you as Ingrid was. As Alexia had told you since one of the first times you spoke to her, she wanted to be a person you felt comfortable with to go to about any problems, and you did trust her. Mapi too, though she came as an unspoken package deal with Ingrid, whether she liked that or not.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, surprising yourself as much as you did Ingrid. She frowned at you, wondering why of all things you could say after the difficult time you’d had in the last day, you chose to apologise.

“Sorry about what? You don’t need to apologise for anything, elskling.” She told you, finally moving her dead arm to hold one of your hands and squeeze it comfortingly.

“Yesterday. The match. Me.” Talking was still hard, but the guilt was monumental.

“The result wasn’t your fault. That’s just how football is sometimes, but we didn’t lose and we still have more group stage games to go. The whole team was off, it wasn’t your fault.” Ingrid reminded you, her eyes wide as she tried to get the message through to you.

“Yellow card.”

“You did get a yellow card, but we all saw the replay afterwards and you got the ball. The referee got it wrong. You also scored our only goal of the game, engel, don’t forget that.” She shuffled a little closer on her knees, placing another kiss to your forehead.

“Suppose so.” You grumbled a minute later, Ingrid smiling in amusement.

“You did so.” She commented, thumb still stroking along the skin of your cheekbone. “Did you have a bad meltdown last night?”

“Mhm.” You hummed dejectedly, overcome with shame and embarrassment at now admitting it to someone. The evidence of it was all around, you knew the trio in your house had seen it all, but there was something gut-wrenching about admitting it aloud.

“Okay. We’ll pick up the pieces and put you back together, don’t worry.” Ingrid stated resolutely, like there was no other option.

With the next thing you said, someone might have to come along and piece Ingrid back together.

“Why do they have to happen, Ingrid? I hate them so fucking much.” 

All your vulnerabilities poured out in two short sentences. Twenty-six years later and the process of a meltdown never got any less demoralising.

“I know, I know.” She moved from her place on the floor and clambered onto the bed behind you, recognising that you had entered a head space where you’d feel comfortable with it now. You confirmed that for her by rolling onto your side, allowing her to shuffle up and hug you tightly back to her chest. “Hey, think of it this way. This is your first one since moving to Spain, that’s amazing! I’m so proud. You’ve handled everything so well, I bet younger you is so proud too.”

Progress wasn’t linear, and it didn’t have the same definition in this case as it did for the majority of the population. Progress meant learning about yourself, learning what harmed you and what you couldn’t deal with, so that you could come up with solutions. There wasn’t a way to grow comfortable with certain things, like restaurants for example, it was about realising what precautions had to be taken beforehand and what support you needed afterwards. Progress was being able to ask people for help, it was having the courage to say no to plans you wouldn’t be able to cope with, it was accepting that yes, you were different, but no, it didn’t make you any less worthy than the next person.

You had made progress, but not the textbook definition of it. Autism took everything about the allistic world and re-defined it for itself.

“Thank you.” You said, voice cracking a little as you did so, a slither of a smile on your face when Ingrid kissed the back of your neck. “Love you, Ingrid.”

The defender felt as if her heart had burst upon hearing those two words. But with the swell of joy that filled her chest, quickly came the crushing sense of regret from earlier.

“I love you too. I'm sorry for not being here last night. I could have helped, or just been with you, and I didn't. I'm sorry for that.” 

Her apology tugged at your heart; you didn't blame her, not one bit. 99% of the time, there was no stopping these things, no matter what you tried or who you were with.

“It's okay. Thank you for being here now.” 

Ingrid nestled in closer at that, and the strength of her hug was the exact kind of pressure needed for the remnants of the dark cloud that had hung over you for a while to finally drift away. The pair of you stayed that way for a while, both more than happy to relish in the peace that had settled, but when there are two antsy women only a few feet behind the door, a disruption is inevitable.

“Can they come in? They’re both worried and will just want to see you're okay.” Ingrid asked quietly after one of them had knocked on the door. You nodded sheepishly, so Ingrid called them in.

“How are things going in here?” Mapi asked carefully, smiling at her girlfriend who gave her a reassuring nod.

“Good. We’re doing okay now.” Ingrid answered honestly, feeling just as relieved as the two Spaniards at the door looked.

“You guys can come in instead of hanging around by the door.” You told them, Ingrid stifling her laughter behind you.

“You two look cosy. Let me join, I'm jealous.” Mapi grinned, dramatically diving onto the bed and sighing contently as she threw an arm around Ingrid's waist.

Alexia was still lingering awkwardly at the door as three of you lay in one double bed, thinking that she didn't want to intrude on a friendship that had been around far longer than she'd known you. But, as you had done for months now, you continued to surprise her.

“Come lay here, Ale.” You waved her over and pointed for her to lay beside the bed on the ground.

Ale. Sure, everybody called her that, but today was the first time you called her that.

She came over in a heartbeat, probably too eager, but she immediately got down and laid on her back beside you. You looked down at her with a shy smile, red eyes and all, and she returned it instantly with pink cheeks.

“Have you eaten yet?” She whispered, looking at the untouched tray of goods next to her. As you shook your head, she reached to grab the paper bag of bakery-bought cookies she had found in your kitchen and opened them, before taking one out and breaking a bit off to give to you. “Cookies for breakfast.”

“Cookies for breakfast.” You gladly took it and ate it, all whilst smiling down at the woman on the floor.

Alexia Putellas, your captain, a World Cup winner, voted best player in the world numerous times, laying on the floor of your apartment just for you. Playing for this team, in this city, was still such a perplexing situation, though fortunately for all the right reasons.

The rest of the day was spent with Mapi and Ingrid as you had told Alexia to go to her family dinner she had initially cancelled. She was reluctant to do so, but eventually she agreed and you were left with Ingrid and her hyperactive counterpart. They kept you distracted enough throughout the day, going for a walk with you, watching a movie with you, even inviting you back to their apartment for dinner where you spent the majority of the time with Bagheera on your lap. Mapi made digs at the fact her cat loved you more than her, and you just sat there with a grin on your face, knowing it was true and revelling in it. 

At the end of the night, you insisted on going back to your own flat after telling the pair of them you were tired of third-wheeling. With tight hugs from them both and one last gloat from you as Bagheera followed you to the door, you left them and made the very short journey back home. You had unknowingly left your phone there, and as you checked it for the first time in a couple hours, there was a surprise waiting for you on it.

Alexia: Would you like to get breakfast with me tomorrow? 

Alexia: I can meet you at your apartment and we can walk somewhere of your choice

Alexia: But if you don't want to, that’s okay!

Her nervousness radiated through the phone with her slight spam of texts, and you couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it was. As if you could ever say no to that. Even if it was a last minute change of plan, all you were going to do tomorrow was maybe go on a run or go to the gym before staying home all day. This was a welcome surprise.

Sticking true to her word, she showed up at 9am on the dot. Anyone would assume it was the middle of winter in Norway with the way she was dressed, when it was just a rainy day in Barcelona. But she was there, a shy smile on her face that was very uncharacteristic for her as she handed you one of the two umbrellas she had in her hands.

“I do have my own umbrella here, Ale.” You teased her, though you took it and closed the door behind you. When you turned back, there was a red shade to her cheeks.

“Well, good morning to you too.” She grumbled, trying to act grumpy but the smile on her face forced its way through sooner than she wanted. As soon as it did, she drew you in for one of those hugs that you may or may not think about more often than you'd admit.

You both easily fell into step after that, heading towards a quiet little cafe you had frequented since your first week in Barcelona. It was a short walk from your apartment, but that didn’t stop the grumbled complaints from Alexia about the weather the whole way, though by the time you arrived you were quite sure she was doing it just to hear you laugh. Again, it surprised you just how naturally conversation flowed between you both. There was no awkwardness, no nerves, just unfiltered joy spilling from the both of you. It hit you then. You were just being yourself around her. And that’s why it felt so good.

There was no reason to mask around Alexia; you felt safe around her. You could do or say anything, and most likely she would just smile right back at you. She’d seen most versions of you by now, and yet here she still was, inviting you out for breakfast even if it did rain on her parade. She had seen you at your happiest in your first game for the team when she came sprinting over, leading the charge for her teammates to celebrate with you. She saw you yesterday morning after a night of horror, eyes red and puffy, wrapped up unmoving in bed, and she lay on the floor beside you still with a smile on her face. You had already let her in more than some of the people you were closest with back in Germany and her opinion never faltered. 

After finding a table, beside the window of course, Alexia went off to order for the pair of you. Though, when she came back, there was a surprise on your plate.

“Why’d you get me this?” You asked shyly.

“Because it is your… your comfort food, right? I thought you would like it.” She shrugged the gesture off, sitting down across from you like it was nothing. Like it didn’t mean everything to you. It wasn’t the cookie itself that had your heart racing, it was the thought behind it that topped your heart back up with the love it needed after the past thirty-six hours.

“They are, but you didn’t have to do this for me. Thank you.” You said, hiding your smile by taking a drink of the hot cocoa you had chosen.

“Eh, it’s nothing. Have you ever tried this?” She gestured to her choice of meal, one of her favourites. “Pa amb tomàquet.”

“I don’t like tomatoes.” 

“Oh no, cariño.” Alexia muttered after a few quiet moments, shaking her head and dropping her cutlery. “No, no, no.”

“What?” You said in amusement, entertained by her dramatics.

“You just stamped on my culture. You broke my heart.”

“I broke your heart, did I?” You said with a smirk. “You broke my heart when you complained about the rain the whole way here.”

“How can anyone like rain? It is sad and boring.” She argued in mock outrage, though of course she can’t last a second around you without smiling.

“The rain reminds me of home.” You revealed sheepishly. Alexia’s shoulders dropped and her face softened instantly. “Both Norway and Germany, actually.”

“No, I understand. I get it. I never thought about it like that but I understand.” She told you, watching as you nodded and looked out the window. “Do you get homesick?”

“Sometimes.” You admitted in a whisper a minute later, only to clear your throat and turn your attention back to your food and start eating.

“You… you never speak Norwegian with Ingrid.” She stated, though it was clearly more of a question.

“Uh, nope. I find it hard to learn new languages, so when I learnt English and moved to Germany, it was like it became my first language. I can speak Norwegian still, obviously, and I would love to learn Spanish and Catalan but it’s just really tiring switching between languages. Mentally tiring, that is. I never learnt German other than a few basic phrases. It’s just too much to process if that makes sense.” 

You stumbled your way through an explanation of a minor secret you’d been a little shameful of for a while now. It was common courtesy to learn and understand the language of a new country, as well as immersing yourself in that and the culture, but it was something you had always struggled with. Admitting that to someone like Alexia was slightly terrifying.

“That’s okay, a lot of people here speak English so you don’t need to worry about learning the languages. But if you ever want some lessons, if or when you are ready, I could help. Or Aitana, or Jana, or someone else.” 

It was suggestions like that, easy solutions that were offered with no second thought, that made Alexia so endearing.

There was one thought that was ever-present in the back of your mind though, it had been for a while, but the meltdown brought it on even stronger. Once the pair of you had finished your meals and were merely just enjoying each other’s company, it came out before you could stop it.

“Do you think I’m doing well here?”

Alexia paused for a moment to think carefully, before placing her cup down and smiling over at you.

“I do. You want to know what I think?” You nodded with no hesitation. “I remember watching you play against us in the Champion’s League last year, you really caused us a lot of problems. And then I heard the coaches say they were thinking of signing you, and I really wanted you to come because I know you would flourish here. Our play style suits you well, and you are an amazing striker. Your positioning, your creativity, awareness, you are a well-rounded attacker. And outside of the pitch, well… the team is much better off with you here.”

“What do you mean?” You said, almost in a whisper.

“You are just a happy person. The happiest person in the changing room. Any one of us could be having a bad day, but then you are there with your smile and your cheeriness and it really lifts us all up.”

Dumb-founded. That's all you felt in that moment. 

Perhaps your face may not show that considering there was a thoughtful frown on your face as you processed the words nobody had ever said to you before, but then the slight shock wore off and… nope, still dumb-founded.

“Really?” You had to double check, because is that honestly what other people thought of you?

“Yes. It's the truth. Ingrid said she has never seen you bond like this with a team before. Believe me when I say you fit in, everybody loves you. We can't imagine what it's like to not have you now.” 

Well. You just might have to start believing that. What choice were you left with otherwise?

—

Something snapped inside of you after that day. A new problem had formed, one you couldn’t have expected at all. Had you dealt with a similar situation in the past? Yes. But those were much more convenient occasions. This one couldn’t be more inconvenient if you tried.

You couldn’t talk to Mapi about it, or Ingrid, or Alexia. Definitely not Alexia. 

It’s just a crush. You could get over a crush. 

Of course you fall for the first person who showed you a bit of humanity. What’s not to like about Alexia?

She lets you ramble to her when you want to, she sits in silence with you when you need it. During briefings at training, she’ll hand over a pack of chewing gum as she knows it helps you to concentrate or, even in some situations outside of training, she takes her rings off and lets you wear them so you can fidget with them instead of your bad habits of skin picking. She’s seen you very close to your worst, and she’s seen you at your best. She gives you her sunglasses whenever a place is too bright, not just because of the sun as it can be any kind of light, and she lets you squeeze her hand to death during take-offs and landings on planes whilst travelling for away games.

Maybe, maybe, it was a tad more than a crush. It’s not your fault though! She chose to act this way, she had inserted herself right into your life the moment she met you, so… what else were you supposed to do?

Oh boy. 

“Frido! I need your help!” You said in an urgent, hushed whisper. The unsuspecting Swede was just walking to her car after training when you called her name from the window of your own vehicle.

“Everything okay?” She checked with a concerned scowl to her eyebrows, coming over in an instant.

“Yes! Well, no, but yes, but- just get in the car please.” 

With a humoured smile, Frido headed around to the passenger side and hopped in, turning to you with an open expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit agitated.” She probed once more. Being long-time friends with Ingrid meant you had obviously come to know Frido well too, and she was part of the group you found yourself in at Barcelona, with Aitana and Esmee also. Esmee was the person you sat with on the coach most of the time, you both gave each other the calmness needed after a game… but that was when you weren't with Alexia, of course.

“Yes, I am just screwed, Frido. So screwed.” You groaned, clutching the steering wheel tightly and dropping your forehead to rest on it.

“Why?” 

“I shouldn’t tell anyone but it’s going to explode out of me if I don't talk about it soon. And I can’t tell Ingrid or Mapi, so here we are.” Then you slumped back against your chair, a frustrated sigh leaving you as you crossed your arms.

“You can tell me anything, they don’t have to know. Getting it off your chest will help.” Frido smiled reassuringly at you. 

It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell anyone about it. Having someone else know made it a reality, for you right now it was just a thought, a daydream. But telling Frido would turn this stupid delusion into an actual, real problem rather than something you thought about at night. And during the day. Actually, most of the t- it doesn't matter. 

“You must never tell a soul, Frido.” You glared at her in warning, though you trusted her with your life. “And you can't make fun of me or laugh either. It's not funny.”

“Never, snuppa. I promise.” She swore.

Another sigh as your eyes flitted around anxiously, moving from the car beside you, to the sky, to the blonde waiting patiently for you to find the words you need. Maybe the world will be thrown upside down when you tell her, but it's either that or an implosion, so.

“I like Alexia. Really like her. And it's going to ruin my life.” 

It did not feel better saying it out loud.

“Why wou-”

“Because she is the captain! She’s the leader, everyone looks up to her, she's just being a human and now I have a crush on her! That's not fair on her! All she’s doing is just being nice to me, like everyone else on the team, and my stupid brain had to choose her. Of all people in the world, her! It's going to mess everything up, I've just found my place and I'm finally feeling somewhat comfortable here and then this happens and I just- I hate it!”

Your words shocked yourself, even. Apparently it was a much bigger problem than you initially thought. In reality, you should have picked up on that, relationships historically haven't gone well for you. 

Everybody says they don't care that you're autistic until your disability actually debilitates you. One glimpse of it and they’re gone. Then the world has the audacity to label you as someone who is ‘high-functioning’ with ‘low support needs’ just because you can get up in the morning and go to work. That doesn't mean you struggle any less, you’re not ‘mildly autistic’, those struggles are simply just internalised, therefore other people experience your autism mildly. If anything, they should be thanking you. Thanking you for making their life easier by making your own a million times harder.

Should Alexia ever see you during one of your meltdowns, she’d probably run for the hills. Quit her career, change her name, and flee to another country. That’s what most people did.

“Slow down, slow down. Come back to me, you are spiralling.” There were soft hands holding your own now, stopping you from palming them roughly against your arms, something you did in anxious moments like now. Movement helped you process things, it was no wonder you became a footballer.

“I don’t know what to do, Frido, it will ruin everythi-”

“Hey, be quiet for a moment.” She urged gently, and you turned to look at her with panic in your eyes. “This won’t ruin everything, that is just your anxiety talking. You’re allowed to have a crush on someone, skatt, you’re only human. It’s natural.”

“Yes, but it’s not the fact I have a crush, it’s who the crush is.”

“I know.” She paused for a second, figuring out the best way to help you around this. “When you talk to me, who do you see? Do you see Frido, your friend? Or do you see Fridolina Rolfö, the footballer?”

“I see Frido, my friend.” You answered skeptically.

“When you’re with Alexia, do you see her as Ale, your friend? Or do you see Alexia Putellas, your captain?” 

“She’s just Ale, but I don’t-”

“If you see Alexia like that normally, why are you picturing her differently in this case? As if she’s bigger than you and… unobtainable?”

Viewing it from another perspective definitely gave you some clarity. 

…But, after all, she is your captain?

“I don’t want to mess this opportunity up though. I was really worried I wouldn’t like it here, but now I do and I actually already love it more than Germany, but if I ever acted upon my feelings it could fuck it all up. I don’t know if I could handle that.” You said insecurely, chewing on your lower lip to keep the emotions at bay. 

When Frido had been silent for too long, you turned to look at her, only to find she was doing the same thing. As if she was deep in thought. Before you could coax whatever was clearly on the tip of her tongue out of her though, she was speaking.

“I know something that I shouldn’t. I’m going to tell you anyway because I think it will make you feel a lot better.” She began with a shy, yet excited expression to her features.

“What is it?” You prompted.

“Last week, in Seville. I was walking to my hotel room and… Mapi and Ale were ahead of me in the corridor. I don’t think they knew I was there, and I heard them having a conversation just like ours.”

Oh. Oh.

“How sure are you?” Your eyes searched her face, looking for even just an ounce of hesitation that would throw all this out the window for you. But it wasn’t there.

“I’m very sure, snuppa, I heard basically every word.” She said with an almost proud smile. “I don’t think you have to worry about anything. Sounds like Alexia feels the same as you do. And even if I hadn’t overheard that, it’s clear to a lot of us that Alexia felt that way anyway. Think of how much time she has spent with you since you joined. She doesn’t spend that much time with anyone on the team, to be honest.”

That caught your attention. Now that Frido mentions it, Alexia has spent a lot of time with you. There was that morning she took you out for breakfast, something you hadn't ever expected but after it, you wished it would happen every morning. She always chooses to sit next to you at any given point, whether that be in briefings or whilst travelling, as well as opting to partner up with you in training whenever the opportunity arises. She even took time out of her own evening to cook dinner for you and bring it to you once when you told her you had ran out of your meal prep. 

“I guess.” You mumbled with a frown.

“She’s just a girl after all. Like you.”

Once again, the world had decided to show you just how much your life can change with one single conversation.

—

Not that you acted upon anything, of course. Over a month passed by with things staying the same as they had been for a number of weeks before the revelation with Frido. Training, match, recovery day, repeat. Dinner at Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment every Thursday if the season schedule allowed it. Morning jogs on days-off, evenings spent basking in the golden glow of a Spanish sunset, some of the best you’d seen. There may have possibly been a few more breakfast outings with Alexia. And perhaps just one movie night. Or was it two? 

Regardless, the one good thing about having the natural ability to mask all the inner turmoil you had was being able to hide your feelings when you were around Alexia. On the other hand, your trait of analysing every detail of your life became a bit too exhausting. You were overthinking all of your actions - every word you said, the way you said it, what your hands were doing, what someone might interpret from your body language, every little thing you did kept you up at night. 

You definitely still liked her, that might… never go away. Those feelings only grew and weighed you down more and more, but you couldn’t distance yourself from her no matter how loud your mind screamed at you to do so. You liked her company, she ranked almost as high as Ingrid on your list of… list of what? People you liked? People you felt safe with? People you didn’t have to mask at all around? People you lov- too early.

There was just so much to think about, and so few solutions. There were literally two; you either tell her, or you pretend it never happened. What the hell were you meant to do with those options? Both were equally as terrifying. As if your fear of the future couldn’t get any deeper, you were now stood at a crossroads. Alexia could become the most important person in your life, or she could just become another person you leave behind in this free-for-all career. She could just slip into the past and become a distant memory. 

Massive leaps of faith still weren’t your thing. The fear of the unknown still ran rampant through your veins, and though you’d become a little more relaxed about certain things over the years, this was absolutely not one of those exceptions. The prospect of it all was just too overwhelming. Truthfully, you really didn’t think you could do this.

However, things all came to a head during the last training session of the year in December. Literally.

“Ale? Are you okay?” You asked in a strangled groan, one of your hands coming up to your head as you squinted through one eye to look for the woman you’d just clashed with.

“Oye, sit down. Ale is fine, you both hit heads though so you need to be checked for a concussion. Lay down.” Mapi demanded just as you got back up onto your knees. 

At that moment, you couldn’t have cared less about whether you had a concussion or not, all you cared for was that Alexia was okay. She was, maybe a black eye and a subsequent bruise to her ego, but she was fine. You had taken the brunt of it, straight to the temple.

You followed Mapi’s instruction and layed back down, your head already starting to throb quite a bit. Before you knew it, you were surrounded by some of the medical staff as they checked you over. Once they decided you were well enough to sit up, they urged you to do so as one of them came to cradle your neck to keep it steady. A bright light was flashed into your eyes, making you flinch, but they decided then that if you did have a concussion, it wasn’t too bad. The decision was made to take both you and Alexia inside as the rest of training went on, so the pair of you walked gingerly to the physio room. 

“You okay?” Alexia murmured quietly as you both trailed behind the physios a little. You ignored the way your heart fluttered when her hand found your forearm briefly, and instead blamed it on your head injury (though it may not be physically possible for those occurrences to be linked.)

“Mhm. Are you? I’m sorry that happened.” You replied. The collision was a bit hazy for you, you couldn’t exactly remember what had happened so if you were at fault, you had to make sure she knew it wasn’t purposeful. She had to know.

“No, no apologies, it’s just football. Happens all the time.” She reassured you, smiling comfortingly down at you as she held the door open for you.

In the room, the team ushered you both onto separate beds, forcing ice packs into your hands as they carried out more cautionary checks. And to add to the guilt you felt, they decided to rule you both out of the game tomorrow as a precaution. Your stomach dropped, dreading Alexia’s reaction. Everyone knew about her mentality, a missed game was a missed opportunity. You weren’t quite sure you could ever look her in the eye again.

The second the physios said you both could leave, you hopped off the bench and went to make a run for it. The sooner you could get home, the better. If you avoided the conversation, you could avoid the whole situation, and hide until the Winter break ended.

“Cariño, wait!” Alexia called out, managing to gently stop you by your wrist before you could flee. You didn’t put up much of a fight, you just sighed and lowered your head. Alexia gestured for the rest of the staff to leave the room for the time being, and that only made matters worse. Not only was she going to trap you in a conversation, there weren’t even any witnesses. “I just want to talk about something. Could you sit down?”

You had no choice but to entertain her.

Reluctantly, you sat back down on the physio bench you were on a moment ago, and copied Alexia’s position. Perched on the edge, legs hanging off the side, except your hands gripped the fabric of it quite a bit tighter.

“Sorry.” You whispered with a chagrined look to your face, eyes trained on the swing of your legs.

“What? Why?” Alexia asked. The confusion in her voice led you to look up at her with your own questioning glance.

“For getting us ruled out. We can’t play tomorrow now.” You told her, your eyes again looking anywhere in the room but at her. Then again, that always happened, no matter the occasion. 

“I told you that wasn’t your fault, you really don’t need to apologise. I’m not mad at you, so you don’t need to feel guilty or anything. We’re both okay, it’s just for our safety.” Alexia reminded softly, but with the head space you were in, you couldn’t believe her words just yet.

“What about the game though?” You uttered in a way akin to that of a down-trodden child, and Alexia could only smile in return at it.

“The team will handle it, they’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about anything, it’s all out of your control. Chin up.” Alexia said with a coy grin. 

She laughed freely when you physically tilted your head up and squeezed your eyes shut to give a cheesy smile, and the sound of it instantly calmed most of your worries. 

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” 

“Um, no, actually. There’s another thing.” She scratched the back of her neck nervously as she spoke, and just like that your anxiety came rushing back. “I just, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, so please tell me if I am because that’s not what I wan-”

Was she about to say it?

“Say it, Ale. Just say it.” You interrupted, because if she was going to say it, you needed it right now. You couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Right. Well…” There was a bright redness to her cheeks, not just from the head-to-head a while ago. “I, um, I… I like you. Really like you, actually. As in, I want to go on a date with you.” 

She actually said it.

“In a romantic way?” Your deadpan tone didn’t exactly help Alexia’s nerves in that moment.

“Uh, I’m not sure there’s any other kind of date, cariño, so yes, in a romantic way.” She laughed nervously. You were quiet for a few moments as you inwardly controlled your emotions so that you didn’t totally freak out in front of the woman who had just asked you on a date. 

You had to play it cool, right? That’s what everyone always said.

“Sure. When?”

It was comical, really. You’d waited this long for something to finally happen between you both, and now it seemed you couldn’t care any less. If Alexia could see into your brain right now though, it would be total chaos. Like a scene straight out of Inside Out.

“I guess now that we can’t play tomorrow and we are the only ones ruled out, we could go to the game together?” 

That was… actually a much better idea than you thought. Normally, people go on dates to the cinema or to restaurants or whatever other hellish activity neurotypicals chose to do. But a football game was common ground, something that the pair of you could talk about forever, and it was an environment that you were familiar with. That could absolutely work. A dream, actually. 

Still, you had to play it cool.

“But I’m already going to the game. And I would have to sit with you anyway. And all you would focus on is the game, it wouldn’t be much of a date.” You were teasing her at this point, whilst also worrying that perhaps you had taken it too far again, but Alexia understood you by now. She’d caught on, and this was her favourite version of you she had seen so far.

“Fine, it doesn’t have to be a date then! You could have just said no instead of breaking my heart!” She argued theatrically, a wave of euphoria rushing through her when you threw your head back and laughed. “How about we go out for food after, that can be our date? We can go to one of the markets and get dinner from a food truck and go on a walk, instead of a restaurant. Does that sound like a better date?”

“Yeah, but I was going to say yes to the football game anyway.” You shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, a hint of a smirk on your face as you stood up to put your ice pack away. Alexia watched you do so with a huge smile on her face at your antics. You turned back to her, a hand on your hip where you stood not too far away from her now. “Dinner still sounds good though.”

“You are so annoying.” Alexia hopped down off of the bench and wandered over to you with a shake of her head, throwing her own ice pack down next to yours. “You know that?”

“It’s a love language. Get used to it.” 

The midfielder chuckled under her breath. Secretly, she hoped she was able to get used to it.

“Wait, what do I have to wear tomorrow?” Your eyes suddenly went wide in panic, staring up at Alexia like she held all the answers in the world.

“Well, it is just a football game and a walk, so whatever you are comfy in. Why?” 

“Because it’s a date, I don’t know what you expect me to wear.” You fretted. It had been a long time since your last date. And this was quite possibly the most important one so far.

“I have no expectations, cariño, just make sure you’re warm and comfortable.” Alexia brushed it off like it was nothing, a notion that silenced all those doubts once again. She had a real habit of doing that.

“Okay.” You nodded. 

You realised your close proximity then, noticing you were both quite close. There was one thing that came to mind, but it was surely too early for that. No matter how much you wanted it. One step at a time. Instead, you shyly held your arms out and looked up at her.

She immediately knew what you were after, and who was she to deny you of that. You melted into her embrace the second she invited you in, finally being able to relish in the comfort her hugs brought without overthinking it.

“You are quite oblivious, you know?” Alexia stated with a smirk to break the silence. 

“Shut up, you’re ruining it.”

—

You couldn’t sleep that night, you were way too excited for your date. You were like a giddy kid at Christmas, the smile didn’t leave your face for more than a second. Ingrid came around that night with the intention of checking up on you, but she never could have predicted what information she was walking back to her apartment with. When she found out, she thought she was excited, but Mapi, well, she was on a whole other level. Long story short, Bagheera didn’t surface from under the sofa until the Spaniard had long gone to bed. 

The game kicked off at 2pm, meaning from the second you woke up at 7am sharp, you had way too much energy. Nervous energy. But there was one thing you noticed immediately. You didn’t feel scared, or anxious, or like you wanted to totally avoid the whole situation altogether. You were excited. You woke up feeling like a normal girl going on a date with someone they liked. 

It was new. Refreshing. You felt light, you can’t remember the last time you felt that way about something that would normally freak you the hell out. Spending time with Alexia didn’t feel like a chore, the way it did sometimes with anyone in your life. Rather than draining your social battery, it stayed at the same level with her. If you were feeling especially burnt out one day, it didn’t seem so sickening to have Alexia’s company there like it was with the thought of anyone else. Your mind was peacefully empty when with her, unlike the fast-paced monologue that ran pretty much all hours of the day, even when you were asleep. 

For once in your life, you were going to be optimistic. Because the woman you were meeting had never given you any reason to be otherwise.

So when she knocked on your apartment door, opting out of firing a text your way to say she had arrived, the surprise of not only her presence but the bouquet in her arms was met with a bright smile from yourself. You immediately took them from her and bounded towards the kitchen area to tuck them safely into a vase. Alexia gazed at you the whole time, feeling her own sense of disbelief at the situation she had found herself in. Never could she have imagined falling for you like she had when she met you for the first time six months ago, but she was happier than ever because of it.

There was a beaming smile of her own on her face, and her eyes crinkled with unfiltered joy when you leaned up to kiss her cheek quickly, before rushing around the flat to get everything you needed. Sunglasses, your coat to go over the matching jumper and joggers you were wearing (Alexia did tell you to dress comfortably, after all), and a cap for good measure. Between you both, there was a distinct difference between the amount of clothing layers, something that made you laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” Alexia grumbled, watching you adjust your hair in the mirror after putting your hat on, huffing when it wasn’t agreeing with you.

“You look like you’re dressed for a Norwegian winter. It’s ten degrees.”

“That is cold for me, cariño.” She chuckled, before moving to stand between you and the mirror, and helping you to sort your hair how you wanted it. You blushed and lowered your hands, looking up at her with a shy smile as she worked. “There. You look cute. Cosy.”

“Thank you.” You hummed, cheeks aching from the intensity of your smile when Alexia took hold of your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You look… warm.”

“Enough with your teasing, let’s go.” Alexia tutted, though she kept your hand in hers as the pair of you left your apartment. It wasn’t until you got to the car that you both reluctantly let go, shooting each other a bashful look before getting into Alexia’s car.

When you arrived at the stadium, both of you spent some time with the team in the locker room, and Alexia addressed them all quickly before you left to find your seats. You had full faith in the team, it was luckily just a league game that most of the younger members of the team would be playing anyway. To be honest, you were quite thankful to not be playing, because it had given way for something better instead.

The majority of the game was spent by both of you talking endlessly about football, both tactical discussions about the game and personal stories for you both. For Alexia, she spoke about how she came to love it so much and how it took her family’s relationship and togetherness to a whole new level. For you, you told her how playing football was the only job you could see yourself succeeding in. The system was routine-based, your work attire was a jersey and shorts, and you were indulging in your special interest everyday of the week. It was an autistic’s person dream to be able to do that, something you were grateful for every time you stepped onto a football pitch. Any other work environment, and you might not have survived. 

Alexia hung onto every word you said, just as you did for her. Learning more about each other was something you both took great interest in, because every detail about your past was how you had become the people you were today. Maybe it was too early to class it as such, but falling in love was a phenomenon that people took for granted nowadays. It’s rare, it’s special, and it’s beautiful. Two people, from entirely different backgrounds, leading unique lives with respective struggles and wins the other hadn’t experienced, only to go on and share every high and low together. Yeah, pretty special in your book. 

With you both being in view of the stadium’s crowd, you were mindful of the watchful eyes around. There was one exception though; during the later stages of the game, the other team had quite a fierce counter attack, something that had both you and Alexia on the edges of your seat. Though, as they neared the goal, the match was the last thing on your mind when Alexia’s hand landed on your knee in anxious anticipation. That hand didn’t move, even when Cata saved the shot with ease. Instead, she just settled back into her seat and turned to you with a deep breath out, the tension leaving her. Then she noticed what she’d done, but before she could retract it, you simply gazed up at her and put your hand on top of hers. 

It remained that way until the whistle blew a few minutes later, when you stood up to make your way down to the rest of the team. You got onto the pitch, Alexia and yourself splitting ways to go and talk to your other teammates. Two familiar faces came bounding over to you and before they even spoke, you could tell what they were going to say just by the smiles tugging at their lips.

“How’s it going?” Mapi asked, poking you in the ribs.

“It’s not gone anywhere yet, we were more focused on the game. But it’s been nice, really nice. It doesn’t feel much different to the other times we’ve hung out, is that good or bad?” You replied with a nervous chuckle, and you got your answer in the form of an excited squeal from Ingrid.

“That’s a good thing! That’s what it was like on our first date, right María?” Mapi nodded enthusiastically, giving you a double thumbs up for extra emphasis. “See! I’m sure you’re doing great, skatt, and I am so happy for you.”

“Me too, preciosa, so happy. Think of the double dates!” Mapi shook your arm vigorously at that, the three of you laughing.

“Let me get through the first one, then I’ll think about it.” That sobered the pair of them up as they nodded in a calmer manner, before they both surged forward to wrap you up in a hug.

“Oh- she’s coming, incoming.” Mapi whispered, pulling away and spinning you around.

“Shall we go, cariño? It might be busy there, so the sooner the better.” 

Just like that, you were being whisked away back into Alexia’s car. She drove to the market, which was decorated for the festive seasons, something you gasped at in awe the second you saw it. Alexia fought off a smile at your reaction which she found much more endearing than she thought she would, and she instantly knew it was a good idea to bring you here. Though you were flying back to Norway in a few days’ time for Christmas back at home, she had a feeling you were a bit more homesick than you were letting on, considering the vast difference in the season between Spain and Norway. Her plan to bring you here, not only for a date, but to cheer you up a bit, was already proving to work.

For a couple hours, you went from stall to stall with a childlike wonder, dragging Alexia along behind you with a tight grip on her hand that you said was just because of the busyness of the area, but both of you revelled in it secretly. That became the truth when you were walking away from the market, slowly heading in the direction of Alexia’s car, until she took you in another direction. Turns out, she was leading you to a beautiful walled garden you had no idea even existed, but the second you saw it you fell in love. Even if it may not have been as stunning as it usually was in the summer, it was still more than enough to capture your attention. 

“This is amazing, Ale, how did you know this was here?” You wondered, head on a swivel looking at each tiny detail, as if there wasn’t enough time in the world to admire its beauty.

One day, in the future, Alexia will reveal that that’s how she feels about you. There are layers to you, and she fears she won’t have enough time in her life to uncover and explore each one. You hold beauty in your physical features, that was the first thing she noticed about you, but it’s the grace of your heart and how you proudly wear it on your sleeve that she adores the most. It's the sparkle in your eyes when you ramble about the things you love most, the unabashed care you treat everyone with, your humour that constantly keeps her on her toes, the purity of your soul and how you have enough unconditional love to give to nearly every being on the planet. There’s plenty to love about you, but that still doesn’t feel like enough for her.

“I have lived here for most of my life, preciosa, I know Barcelona like the back of my hand.” She said, and maybe if you weren’t so oblivious, you might have seen the adoration present in her gaze.

“So you’re saying you know more places like this? And you’ve kept them a secret all this time?”

“Yes, I will show you them all, don’t worry.” She chuckled, slowly walking over to where you were stuck staring at an abundance of pansies in one area of the garden. “Those are Alba’s favourite.” 

“This whole place is my favourite. I love it, thank you for taking me here.” You turned your attention from the flowers and back up to Alexia, who didn’t seem to take any interest in her surroundings. She was just smiling down at you. “What are you smiling at?” 

“Hmm?”

“You’re just standing there, smiling. You haven't even looked around yet. What are you smiling like that for?” You asked in utter confusion. She was genuinely just stood there, perfectly still, seemingly lost in her thoughts, with a soft smile on her face that’s directed solely at you. Instead of answering, she laughs, to your annoyance. 

“I’m just happy, cariño. Happy to be here with you, on a date.” She answered, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Oh. Okay.” You said, hoping the dim lighting from the street lamp wasn’t enough for Alexia to see the blush on your cheeks. “I’m really happy too. I can’t believe you like me.”

You didn’t really mean to say that, but the words tumbled out of you regardless.

“Why do you say that?” Alexia questioned with a frown, deftly taking hold of your hands.

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, looking down as your feet fidgeted on the spot, kicking a stone away from underneath you. “I can be a lot, I guess.”

“Well, luckily for you, I have seen your ‘a lot’ and it’s enough for me. You don’t have to worry about that, I promise.” Alexia replied, earnesty clear in her voice. She leaned forward then, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Why do you put yourself down like that?”

“Because I want to be your girlfriend, but I want you to know what you’re getting into.” You told her, taking a slight step back. 

“Loving another human, that’s all I’m getting into.” She took a cautious step closer. “That little voice is taking over, cariño, take a breath with me and know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Trying to calm down is quite hard when there’s a beautiful woman in front of you being so kind that she makes your head spin. Or when she’s giving the softest forehead kisses in all of mankind and holding your hands with a delicateness you’ve never experienced. She’s not just holding your hands right now, she’s got your heart in the palm of her hands.

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” You blurted out, sharply stepping back from her again. 

“I know. You are the strongest person I’ve met, and you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. But who’s to say you can’t have someone by your side anyway?” She smiled like it was nothing. As if her words weren’t everything you’d ever wanted to hear. “Are you scared of me leaving?”

“Yes.” You whispered quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat and growing the confidence to look back up into her eyes.

“I’ve learnt a lot about you these past few months. Not a thing I now know has deterred me from you. I don’t think anything could. All I ask is that you take a chance and let me show you how much I adore and admire you. The feelings, the worries and doubts you have, they go both ways, cariño. I am worried that I might not be good enough for you and that I am not what you need. I am scared that I will get things wrong, and that I-”

You had heard enough, she’d proved her point.

You leant up on the balls of your feet, and kissed her. And she returned it almost instantly. Her hands dropped yours and landed on your hips, steadying you on your tip-toes. Yours wrapped around her neck, drawing her somehow closer. And just like everything had been so far with Alexia, it was easy. It was everything you dreamed of and more. Here, somewhere in Barcelona, not only had you made a life for yourself in just six months, you’d gained a new addition to it too. 

Alexia had taught you a lot in the short time you had known her. But there was one thing that stood out to you; she had unknowingly taught you, just through her actions, that love is accommodation and consideration. It’s knowing what the other needs, and being there when they need it. It won’t be 50/50 everyday, in your case there will be times where it’s 90/10, and there will be occasions that are the same for Alexia. Your struggles don’t define you, and Alexia’s don’t define her. You’re worth it, just as much as she is. Just as much as everybody else.

Just because you’re stuck with a label for the rest of your life, a disability that beats you down when you want anything but that, those don’t mean that everything has to be hard. The truth is, when a genuine connection is found, things can be easy. They can be peaceful. With Alexia, you feel seen, as if you’re being mirrored back to yourself. Now, by loving the right person, you realise that other people shouldn’t always make you feel exhausted, they shouldn’t be the reason why you retreat back into yourself, and most importantly they shouldn't make you feel like you’re impossible to love. 

Life will continue to try and break you down, there’s not a soul on earth that can entirely protect you from that, but having Alexia by your side, just like she said, can lessen the burden. After all, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, and joy shared is joy doubled. You have to live, you have to feel,  you have to love, you have to take risks. Because if you hadn’t done that all along, where would you be now?

[leiswxrld]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

pairings: russian!abby anderson x fem!reader

synopsis: your russian girlfriend abby complains about her boss everyday to you after work but today she wants to take her stress out on someone and who not better than her own girlfriend.

warnings: smut, praises (sweetheart, my love, angel), strap on usage (r receiving), abby fucking the shit out of you.

a/n: I am not Russian so if they translations are wrong I do apologise tried not to use google translate but some websites like quora or Reddit for accurate translations, also this was recommended by someone idk if this is what they meant but I hope you enjoy ❥.

this isn’t proofread so please ignore errors.

@alicespurplesquid thanks for helping me on the cyrillic letters ❥

credits: @cafekitsune @hitobaby for line dividers ❥.

You're sat in the living room watching the Netflix series 'You', feet up on the couch, snuggled up in the new blanket abby brought you with a can of dr pepper, gummy worms and popcorn.

The noise of the front door opening catches your attention but your eyes remain on the screen, hearing the keys being thrown on the kitchen counter and heavy footsteps approach behind you.

"I missed you, принцесса" your instantly engulfed in her embrace, smelling her musky cologne oozing from her as you smile taking a second to take a look at her.

"How was work" you ask, abby opening her mouth to receive the gummy worm in your hand as you slip it into her mouth causing her to lick the excess sugar off your finger and you jokingly smack her hand at her silliness.

"Stressful my boss was up my ass about getting the new building ready for next week" abby was a construction worker and often complained to you on how much of a twat her boss was in her words, 'a fucking cunt"

"Baby I told you to complain to hr about it maybe they'd do something" you reply and she scoffs going to remove her jacket throwing it onto the other sofa before making her way to the fridge and grabbing a cold beer.

"and what so that my boss can fucking make my life even harder no thanks" she removes the bottle cap with her teeth going to plop her self next to you. "you smell good" she blurts out, pushing her head into the crack of your neck smelling the sweet birthday cake scent.

"thank you it's a new perfume I got" you reply, continuing to watch the show as abby began to assault you with kisses, "abs I can't concentrate if you keep kissing me like that"

"you just smell so fucking good, дорогая" she groans, shuddering as she continues. "I think I know where to take my stress out on" she says, pulling away from your neck as your eyes widen.

"Abby no can't it wait" you whine, you were turned on but you wanted to finish this episode before you'd do anything remotely sexual with her.

"Baby, пожалуйста" you couldn't say no especially when she begged in russian to you. "Fuck-fine abs you have 10 minutes"

She grins at you, getting ready to pick you up before you give her the hand...making her pause for a sec confused as you grab the remote and pause the show before you tell her to continue.

You yelp as she picks you up straddling you on her lap, she immediately pulls you into a heated kiss, feeling her frustration as her hands roamed your back, sides and ass as you moan. tongues entangled and your arms around her neck, she grinds into you feeling her hard bulge prod against your joggers

Abbys pick you up, walking you towards the bedroom door lips still attached to you as she kicks open the door and throws you onto the bed. "strip for me"

You take no time in removing your clothes, slipping off your joggers and top leaving you in your bra and underwear. "so fucking pretty for me" she hungrily eyes you, lust prominent in her eyes as they move up and down your body, making you feel small under her gaze.

She keeps eye contact with you removing her work trousers and the yellow luminous vest, eyes leaving hers to her black boxers that tucked away her strap. "Lay down for me, Крошка"

You lay down as abby crawls on top of you removing your underwear as she curses under her breath, "fuck" your wet, pussy glistening under the light peaking through the closed blinds.

"Do you want my strap baby" you desperately nod, watching as she pulls down her black boxers revealing her strap which hits you against the fat of your thigh, you whine gripping onto her sports bra pulling her towards you as you plead in her ear to fuck you.

she smirks, hooking her arm under your thigh pushing it till it was against your ear. "yeah tell me how badly you want it"

"fuck-please abs just fuck me" her tongue rolls across her mouth in satisfaction, tapping her strap against your wet clit before slipping into you.

You gasp, hands wrapping around Abbys neck as she puts her face into the crook of your neck. she begins to rock her hips into you, every thrust harder than the last knocking the last bit of air out of your windpipe. she grunts, bitting onto your ear and pushing the cups to your bra down fondling with your exposed tits, twisting your hardened buds making you whimper.

Your mixed moans filled the bedroom, gasps and grunts getting louder as she pounds into you. "I can feel you clenching around my strap, зайка" she groans into you ear, taking a second to look at your flustered face, rambling curses and pretty moans.

"Are you gonna cum that fast for me, малыш" she breathlessly asks, hitting your pussy at an angle whilst holding your leg up. "n-no" you squeak, gripping onto the white sheets below you.

"better fucking not you'll cum when I tell you to" she grunts, taking her time to watch how your eyes roll back unable to respond. she chuckles, pushing the falling hair outta your face to truly see how fucking beautiful you were, legs wrapped around her back as your nails dug into her back.

your hand goes to cover your face as abby slaps it, pinning your arms to your sides, "don't hide your face angel I wanna see how pretty you are when you cum for me" her words make you pulse around her, signalling you were going to cum at the speed she was fucking into you.

"a-abs please I'm going to cum" you warn, her hand reaches up to your face slapping it, "hmmm, you going to cum for me milaya, you can beg me better than that" she coos.

"Пожалуйста" you beg, tears in your eyes which pushes abby over the edge, pounding into you harder before you cum all over her strap, your juices seeping onto the white sheets below before she slows down, coming to a halt.

"fuck I think that was the best sex we've ever had" abby mutters, kissing you on the cheek before pulling out. she leaves you laying on the bed, taking her strap off seeing the visible wet spot on her black boxers as she makes her way into the bathroom.

She brings back a wet cloth, cleaning you up and whispering praises into you ear as you steady your breathing. she throws the wet cloth back into the bathroom before jumping onto the bed beside you.

"Do you want to order takeout don't think you'll be in any state to move and cook now" she offers, a smirk on her face as you finally catch onto what she meant.

You slap her on her arm, sending her a dirty look causing her to laugh, "Fuck off abby, you can order takeout but only because I'm in no mood to cook right now"

she laughs again before cuddling you, "yeah sure let me order something from your favourite food place and then after I can fuck you till you fall asleep....how does that sound, принцесса"

you roll your eyes playfully kissing her once again, "sounds fucking perfect abby"

[mariclerc]

unexpected role request here! can you do one where the situation is about the Oscar and Ollie adoption joke? where they like invite them over and spend time like a family and another fic where the timeline was when Charles introduced y/n and lily his family :))

Thank you so much for this request!! I love the idea 🥺🥺🥺 and don't worry, I will make your other request very soon!!

An unexpected role (pt.7) | cl16

Summary: you revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well. Warning: none, just fluff as usual featuring Ollie and Oscar!!

Follow the series! Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6 , Part 8, Part 9

Sunlight streams through the large windows of yours and Charles' apartment. Charles sits at the counter of the kitchen with Lily perched on a high chair wearing a bib. He's cutting up strawberries and feeding them to her, dodging sticky fingers with a smile.

In the living room, you are curled up on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You let out a surprised laugh.

“Charles, you'll never guess what I just saw!” you say walking into the kitchen.

Charles glances up from Lily, a strawberry halfway to her mouth. “What's that, amore?” he says with his mouth full of little raspberries.

Lily happily chomps on the strawberry.

“It seems you've become a social media dad already.” you say giggling.

Charles raises an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “A social media what now?” He says a little confused.

You hold up your phone, showing him a screenshot. It's a tweet with a picture of you, Charles, and Lily photoshopped beside Oscar Piastri and Ollie Bearman, the caption reads: "Charles Leclerc expanding his family with the next generation of talent! #adoptdontshop #F1fam"

Charles bursts out laughing, shaking his head. Lily claps her hands, delighted by the sound. “Oh my god, these fans... they're something else.”

“So, are you thinking of breaking the news to Lily that she has new brothers?” you say teasingly.

Charles picks Lily up from the high chair, placing her on his hip as he walks over to you. “Maybe someday, when she's old enough to understand that Oscar and Ollie are more like... racing cousins, I guess?” He leans and kisses Lily's head. “Though, the idea of them all hanging out here... it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it? I mean, you already know them and, well, they seem to like Lily a lot!”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile on your lips.

”You mean a whole house full of young, competitive drivers? Sounds like a recipe for chaos, you know?” you asked him.

“Maybe, but think of the stories they'd have for when they're older... "Remember that time Aunt y/n almost lost it when we turned the living room into a go-kart track?" That would be so funny!” he say grinning.

You reach out and softly touch his cheek. “Alright, alright, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. As long as they promise not to give Lily any racing ideas before she's old enough.”

Charles throws his head back and laughs, a genuine sound that fills the room. Lily joins in, giggling at the sound of her parents laughing.

“Don't worry, amour. We'll keep her grounded... For now.”

He leans in and kisses you, the promise of a playful evening with the guys hanging in the air.

***

One week later, the kitchen is a whirlwind of activity. You're juggling chopping vegetables with keeping Lily, who's sporting a bright yellow construction hat, out of the precarious piles of flour on the counter.

Charles bursts in, a wide grin on his face, followed by two young men, Oscar and Ollie, they both have shy smiles on their faces, despite already knowing them in the paddock, they tend to be a little shy.

“Here they are! The prodigal... racing sons, I suppose?” says Charles, making an exaggerated announcement when they enter.

Oscar and Ollie exchange awkward smiles.

“Hey Charles, y/n. Thanks for having us! This place smells amazing, what are we making?” Ollie says, waving friendly.

“It's nothing Ollie, we're making pizza! Lily's been demanding it all week.” You say while cleaning the flour from your hands.

Lily, perched on a stool by the counter, happily bangs a wooden spoon on a metal pot and looks up at Oscar. “Osc! Osc! Osc!” she giggles while looking at the Australian.

Oscar smiles and carefully approaches Lily.

“Hey there you girlyclerc, you want some cuddles?” He says, caressing Lily's cheek gently, she nods and extends her little hands towards him. Oscar chuckles and Ollie bumps him with his shoulder.

“So, uh, is there anything we can do to help with the dinner?” Ollie asks a little shyly as he smiles.

You smile, relieved at the offer.

“Actually, yes! Can you two keep Lily occupied in the living room for a bit, please? We need some grown-up time to get this pizza dough under control.” you smile at the young boys.

Oscar and Ollie look at each other, then back at you, a mixture of amusement on their faces.

Charles notice their hesitation. “Don't worry guys, she's pretty easy to please. Just don't let her near any markers, and maybe hide the remote... Besides, she already adores you two, so... I don't think it's a big problem.”

Oscar and Ollie share a determined look and smile.

“Consider it done. Come on, pipsqueak, let's go build a fort!” Ollie says as Lily jumps into his arms.

Oscar starts singing a children's song, earning a delighted squeal, and they disappear into the living room. You and Charles exchange a look, then you two burst out laughing.

“Maybe they'll make better babysitters than racing drivers, don't you think?” you giggled.

“Maybe... But at least they're good driving too amour.” Charles says, pulling you in for a quick kiss, flour dusting his cheek. “Now, about this reckless dough...”

Meanwhile in the living room, where Ollie and Oscar are sprawled on the floor with Lily, surrounded by pillows and blankets. Lily, wearing a princess crown made of construction paper, is holding a plastic microphone, belting out a made-up song at the top of her lungs. Oscar and Ollie, despite themselves, are smiling so hard at lily's creativity, completely captivated by their pint-sized audience.

***

You and Charles have managed to wrangle the pizza dough into a presentable shape. Flour dusts your aprons and the air smells pleasantly of tomato sauce and oregano.

“Alright, that looks good. Time to get these in the oven!” you say while wiping your hands.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream pierces the air. You and Charles exchange a panicked look.

“Lily!” Charles says exalted.

You both race towards the living room, bracing yourselves for the worst, the scene that greets you is unexpected.

Oscar and Ollie are sprawled on the floor, their faces painted in bright, uneven stripes. Lily, holding a colourful marker in one hand and a triumphantly mischievous grin on her face, stands over them. Pillows lie scattered on the floor, a half-built fort forgotten.

“Uh, she may have gotten a little carried away with the markers...” Ollie says sheepishly.

Lily lets out a giggle that's both adorable and slightly terrifying. You and Charles can't help but laugh, the tension dissolving.

“Lily, sweetheart, what did we say about markers, huh?” says Charles as he tries to keep a straight face.

Lily sticks her tongue out at him playfully and he does the same, you giggle at the father-daughter interaction.

“Well, this is certainly a first. Looks like we need to add "washing paint out of hair" to the post-pizza agenda, don't you think guys?” you say smiling.

Oscar and Ollie exchange a sheepish glance, but there's a spark of amusement in their eyes.

“Consider it payback for the flour fight Charles had us do at Monaco last year.” Ollie giggled softly.

Charles throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, a little initiation never hurt anyone!”

You shake your head, but a smile tugs at your lips. It's chaotic, messy, and completely unexpected. But as you look around at the scene - the flour-dusted kitchen, the paint-striped drivers, a giggling Lily in the middle of it all - you can't help but feel a warmth spread through you.

The sound of the oven timer cuts through the laughter, Charles pats his stomach with a theatrical sigh.

“Alright, alright, enough shenanigans. Pizza's calling! Who's hungry?” Charles says.

Lily, ever the opportunist, throws her arms up in the air.

“Dada, pizza!” Lily says smiling.

Oscar and Ollie share a look, then grin. “We could definitely use some fuel after all this... creative art expression.” Ollie says smiling.

You herd everyone towards the table, grabbing cleaning wipes on the way. Charles pulls out a high chair for Lily, her paint-streaked face a masterpiece of pure joy.

“Alright, first things first, let's get this paint cleaned up. Then pizza, maybe a movie to wind down before you two head home?” you say while wiping a smudge off Ollie's cheek.

Oscar smiles “Sounds like a plan, y/n. Thanks again for having us today.” says Oscar, wiping his face with a cloth.

Charles ruffles Oscar's hair playfully and smiles. “Anytime, mate! Just don't give Lily any ideas about supergluing my helmet on next time, alright?” he says with a chuckle.

Ollie lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No promises, Charles. No promises.”

As everyone settles around the table, the air is filled with a cacophony of chatter, laughter, and Lily's enthusiastic demands for more cheese. The scene fades on a warm, messy tableau of a family, unconventional as it may be, sharing a meal and a stolen moment of joy.

***

After eating the pizza, Lily, now sporting a clean face (and a suspicious orange stain on her shirt), bounces around the living room with a juice box in one hand. Oscar and Ollie are sprawled on the floor, attempting to build a precarious tower out of Legos.

“You think they'll be alright for a movie? Or will they be bouncing off the walls?” you say towards Charles while stacking some dishes in the kitchen.

“They might be a bit wired, but a good movie should tire them out eventually... What did you have in mind?” he says grinning.

You grab a movie from the shelf, a classic Disney animation.

“Something guaranteed to put them into a sugar coma... Besides, Lily's been obsessed with this lately.” you say in a sweet giggle and Charles smiled.

You return to the living room, putting in the movie. The Lego tower teeters precariously before collapsing with a dramatic crash, Lily squeals with laughter, then turns to Oscar and Ollie with wide eyes.

“Movie time! Movie time!” she says giggling. “Ollie?” she says towards Ollie, while making little hands, a sign she makes everytime she wants to be hold up in arms.

Oscar scoops her up, settling her on his lap while Ollie grabs a blanket, draping it over them both. You and Charles settle on the couch, popcorn bowls in hand. As the movie starts, a comfortable silence descends upon the room, Lily snuggles into Ollie's side, her little eyes already drooping.

A small smile plays on Charles' lips as he glances at you. You catch his eye and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. On the screen, a princess embarks on a grand adventure... In the warmth of your apartment, your own unconventional adventure continues, one messy pizza dinner and movie night at a time.

[allbark-no-bite]

Maniac || Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: she’s dancing in the kitchen while Rafe’s falling in love

word count: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ smut

author’s note: inspired loosely by Macklemore’s ‘Maniac’

He's laughing now, low and attractive, his pearly teeth on display. His crossed arms bounce against his chest as it rumbles. From the radio sat on the counter, music bounces through the expanse of the kitchen.

"I am not dancing with you."

"C'mon! Get over yourself, Cameron!"

Warm, lemon yellow light slowly creeps across the white kitchen walls, and it makes her hair flash a rich golden color as she twirls through the sunbeams.

Rafe remembers exactly when he fell in love with her because it was a moment similar to this one. She's half dressed, dancing in the kitchen in her tube socks. Her hair is a mess, falling out of the already sloppy bun it's been thrown in, and he's not even sure she's wearing anything under the billowy mass of his shirt. The buttons are misaligned and he's half hoping it will fall further down her shoulder just so he can prove his theory.

God, does she get on his nerves. "Of you? Or looking like an idiot?" Rafe braces himself against the countertop, his lean body relaxed.

Right now he's just content to watch her, socked feet sliding against the white kitchen tile as she does what he has to admit is a fairly decent impression of the moonwalk. Thankfully he doesn't speak too soon because she stumbles over her own feet at the end, catching herself just before she hits the floor.

Rafe just shakes his head, blue eyes shining with a light that only she can put in them. "You're a maniac." His heart hurts. He wishes this wasn't so complicated.

Rafe met (y/n) through Topper, his best friend since grade school. Consequently, Topper was also (y/n)'s older brother. Now, he wants to make this point clear, he never set out to fuck his best friend's kid sister. Shit just happens. He had always liked her, of course, but everyone did. She didn't rat out anything they did at parties, and she was always down to hang out and do... other things. His favorite of those things being the time they had sex in the backseat of Topper's jeep. They'd emerged an hour later, faces hot and clothes rumpled, and returned back to the party as if nothing happened.

Rafe is sure Topper knows he's doing less than decent things with his little sister — they did leave his car reeking of sex for the whole next week — but for the most part, they keep whatever is between them under wraps. She says it's because she doesn't want to hurt her brother if things go south. Rafe knows it's because she's seventeen and doesn't want to commit to anything she doesn't have to.

"We aren't dating, Rafe. You know that."

He's just proposed that they go with Kelce and his girlfriend to the golf club tomorrow.

"Bullshit," he laughs, grinning from ear to ear. She was bad for him, her and her flighty indecisiveness, but so were a lot of other things he did. Rafe figured there were worse things that could kill him.

"You'll get over me eventually. I promise."

He's really grinning now because he knows she's all talk. "Sure," he relents, playing along for the sake of the conversation. "And when I don't?"

She's rolling her eyes now but still smiling as he takes her hand and twirls her around, her toes twirling delicately across the kitchen floor. "You're just like my brother. You'll find another Sarah Cameron and move on with your life."

He actually scoffs at that. "I'd rather not think about the things your brother does to my sister."

"I'm sure Top feels the same way," she refutes, sidling closer to Rafe until they're nearly pressed chest to chest. The collar of the shirt has slidden off her shoulder, well below her collarbone, and still there's no bra strap in sight. He swallows, a hand sliding up the back of her bare thigh to cup the curve of her backside and pull her closer to him.

She must notice his tentativeness because she offers him a cheeky look, cupping her hand over his own. "No need to be shy. If you're going to touch me then get going with it."

Rafe's blue eyes flit to hers, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a shy smile, as if he's been caught contemplating and she read his mind. His other hand glides up her shirt, reveling at the warmth of her skin before sliding home. The bud of her breast pebbles under the swipe of his thumb and she shivers.

"What's wrong with being shy?" he mumbles, his head ducking to mouth at the cavern of her collarbone. Her body is warm and impossibly alive in his hands. There are often times like this one that he cannot fathom the fact that like him, she is a living, breathing person. He can feel her heart thumping under the weight of his palm, almost unbearably alive.

The tent in his pants must betray him because she laughs. "Rafe Cameron, you have never been shy a day in your life." Her hips grind up into his and he muffles a groan into her skin. He would say she knows him too well but really there's no hiding what's happening in his pants.

His fingers tug down at her shirt as he cranes his neck lower to mouth at the tender swell of her breast. A pleased sound escapes her. Before she can grip him through his shorts, he swiftly grabs her wrist, placing it instead on his waist. "Later," he huffs. His dick can wait.

When her hand again slips past the waistband of his boxer, his teeth catch her skin, reprimanding her. "Later, dammit," Rafe scolds, but there's no bite to his voice. He's smiling again as he kisses the welp better. His hands are on her waist, thumbs digging in below her hipbones to pull her body into his. Her fingers are in his hair, tickling his scalp and making him sigh into her skin. Rafe smoothes his tongue over the hickey forming on the top of her breast, making sure to attend to the other side as well.

With her hands still in his hair, Rafe drops to his knees on the kitchen tile. He is very, very pleased to find that she is not wearing panties. Narrowing his blue eyes, he shoots her a knowing glare. "You're nothing but trouble, kid."

Her hands tangled in his hair push his head back down. "You sound like you're trying to catch a case calling me that."

Rafe laughs at her impatience. At first he had been painfully aware of their three year age gap. She was Topper's litter sister for god's sake — practically a baby when he was a senior in high school. That number has faded over the years but it doesn't mean he doesn't like to tease her.

Grinning, his nose drags along the tan of her bikini line. She smells like sun tan oil and something he can't quite place. He would like to linger a while longer to figure it out but he's afraid she'll get too impatient with him.

Palms griping the backs of her thighs, he licks through her folds. The contact makes her body jump, but her fingers tighten as much as they can in his cropped hair, forcing his face closer. He just knows his jaw is going to ache tomorrow. Is it actually good head if it doesn't? He doesn't think so.

Rafe drags his tongue up to her clit before sucking at it. She squeaks at this, legs quivering beside his head. Just when he thinks she's going to lose her balance, she thankfully grabs on to the counter behind her before they both topple to the floor.

"Holy..." she begins, but doesn't even finish her sentence.

Grunting, Rafe has to force his wide shoulders in between her knees to keep them open as he laps at her. His tongue dips further into her, causing his nose to nudge her clit each time his mouth explores her further.

Eventually he becomes more insistent with his actions, lapping at her clit until she's whimpering, sensitive to the point that he doesn't know if she's more keen on shoving his head towards her or pushing it away. She comes with a cry, squirming in his hands as his tongue finishes the job properly.

"Oh god, I love you. Please. Fuck, you're— Right there."

Rafe pulls away just a fraction to breathe. "What'd you say?"

He's sure she can still feel his hot breath against her weeping cunt. There's arousal leaking down her thighs and he can feel it dripping down from his chin to his neck.

Panting, her cheeks are flushed as she looks down at him, but he has a feeling it's not from him. "What?" she stammers. "Nothing."

He grins cheshire-like up at her. His hands rub the backs of her thighs soothingly before squeezing her calfs. "You said the "L" word," he accuses.

Her eyes widen in realization. "No. No, I didn't," she protests.

Rafe rises to his feet, hands trailing up her body as his smile grows wider. She's trapped between his body and the counter and has no choice but to try and dodge him as he tries to catch her eyes. "What was it?" He taunts, laughing. "Say it again, baby?"

She tries to cover her face with her hands but with Rafe's overpowering strength, the attempt is useless. Even hiding halfway behind her arms, he can tell she's smiling. "I didn't! I didn't say anything!"

"C'mon! Baby. Baby, look at me." Rafe pulls her her rigid arms away from her face and holds them out to either side of her head. "Hey, I said look at me."

Leveling his gaze with her, they lock eyes for a moment, neither saying anything. Although her expression is fairly calm, if not a little pensive, he can tell she’s searching his face for a reaction. Timidly, he presses his lips to hers, stealing a chaste kiss before pulling away again.

“I love you too.”

[7squidgy7]

✧Cult of the Lamb Fanart dump part 2✧

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

Testing out how to draw the bishops here and how they'd be as followers.

Leshy became a farmer, working in the fields with the yellow cat.

Heket is a lumber jack who reads in her spare time (romance is a favourite of hers). She's more suited for a kitchen job but kept eating ingredients so was banned from food production. Although for special occasions she's allowed to cook and makes some of the best food the cults ever had.

Kallamar is an events organiser. When there's no upcoming events he works as a jeweler and sells his creations with his spouses at smugglers sanctuary. Each spouse is represented by a gem on his belt. He has adjusted best to follower life. 

Shamura cant work due to their wounds and is under the care of Kallamar. Shamura spends most of their time sitting with Kallamar in his workshop weaving and knitting various elaborate pieces of clothing or decoration.

They all wear a jewel in the shape of their old crowns. These were all made by Kallamar.

I remember seeing a post saying Narinder would play the violin and i think that fits really well. Lambert I like to think doesn't have a musical bone in their body so just plays a little drum off beat.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

Some fanart of @aychama's royal au. I realised half way through making the 1st page that the interaction they're having wouldn't really happen, but I found it funny.

The 2nds image mostly my own Narilamb, but does have a joke image I drew for the royal au, tried to make wedding adjacent clothing while taking inspiration from the original designs.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

Forneus my beloved.

After Aym and Baal were returned to her they got to reconnecting. She would read them children stories occasionally (something they didn't get the opportunity to do together before). Aym and Baal really like them. 

After leaving Forneus to travel I like to believe Aym and Baal became travelling merchants/ couriers working with their mum. They occasionally stop by the cult and will trade with Lambert and deliver ordered goods.

On the 1st page you can see I gave them new outfits that are backpack friendly. Ran out of space so Baals the only one who got a full outfit. Aym's is basically the same just a colour swap. You can see little doodles of them both.

[asherraccoon]

Genuinley thinking about combining my two hyperfixations/special interests and making a "Five Nights at Hazbin(Hotel)" AU 😭

I EVEN HAVE SOME OF IT PLANNED OUT??

Charlie- She dosen't move until the 3rd night. She's not very good at hiding, however, and her bright yellow eyes and rosy red cheeks will often give her away if she hides in the shadows, so be on the lookout for that

Vaggie- She moves on the 2nd night. Her eyesight is poor, so sometimes she won't see you in the office. It's best to keep the light off as much as possible on her side of the hall. If you do turn it on, keep it on for less than 5 seconds to avoid her seeing you.

Angel- He's the first to move. He's the 2nd fastest compared to Niffty. He will move cameras quickly, but he also wont stay at your office for very long.

Husk- He's be similar to Foxy. Check the bar camera fairly often to make sure he's still there. If he's gone, quickly close the left door before he gets there.

Niffty- The fastest of all of them. She's difficult to see on the cameras because she's so small and hides in the shadows. Keep a look out for her big glowing eye. Don't see her? Check the kitchen camera, she might be making noise in there. She also likes to hide in your vents. Check them frequently and lock her out if you see her, otherwise she will drain your battery.

Alastor- He's a rare one to see. Most likely to appear on the 5th night, bonus 6th night, or the custom 7th night. He will appear in the corner of your office with a "static" effect surrounding him. Flip your camera up and down to make him leave your office, he doesn't like it when your attention isn't on him. If you see him outside of the office on the cameras, keep your camera on him until it glitches and he disappears. He may like attention, but he hates the cameras.

Other characters such as Cherri, Pentious, and Lucifer haven't been figured out yet! If you have any ideas on what they'd be like in this AU let me know!

I might make some art for this AU hehe

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1978 home in Las Vegas, NV is the ultimate millionaire's Vegas pad. 7bds, 6ba, $2.85M. It's a mid-century modern home, but it's been renovated.

Unlike the usual MCM homes we've seen, this one has few original features. It's very colorful and full of art, so we have to look beyond the decor to determine what it really looks like. I don't know if the ceiling is original, but it looks like the front doors are- they were just painted turquoise.

I like the yellow closet doors and orange in the ceiling, plus the lion mural. They will stay. So will the chandelier (not a fan of it, though).

What a colorful staircase. Not sure that I like that fake garden thing hanging on it, though.

Let's see... take away all the colorful furnishings and there's a stone fireplace and a purple wall. Interesting that they hung all that stuff on the fireplace. Huge living room.

Ultra modern kitchen with an interesting curved wall. I like the colored lights.

Love the colorful countertop. The dining area has a long stone wall with a fireplace and it's been painted white.

Long gallery hall with one purple wall and one white. I would imagine that they leave the carpet runners.

Large primary bedroom has a fireplace and a terrace.

There's a wide pass thru to the en-suite. Very nice MCM graphic on the wall and bright yellow cabinetry. Love the tub.

Look at mirrored shower.

Now, this bedroom I like. They have so many odd-shaped carpets. How do they vacuum them? They'd move all over that floor.

The en-suite has a beautiful floating pink sink.

Very large guest room. The wallpaper's nice, it's a neutral black & white, so the new owners can have whatever colors they like.

Smaller room has a lovely purple graphic wall.

Love the mural in the rec room and the rounded windows. They may or may not take the pink pole.

The rec room opens to this room with purple closet doors.

And, a cool motorcycle bar. I wonder if that conveys. It doesn't look like a built-in.

Now, we've come full circle to the family/pool room off the main entrance hall.

There's an apt. with a large combination living room/kitchen and a bedroom.

I'm disappointed. I thought there'd be a pool, but instead there's a basketball hoop.

The large driveway goes past the front door and the coolest gorilla topiary.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2315-Alta-Dr-Las-Vegas-NV-89107/112465455_zpid/

[bomberqueen17]

stencils

ah i did the stencils on tuesday and i forgot to post about it! i have been Out Of Sorts lately and also i remembered how to post on instagram so i put it there and then forgot i had not put it here.

BEHOLD

[image description: a teal wall with yellow-orange trim, stenciled with a tiled pattern of metallic gold stars over the entire surface]

I bought this stencil and some metallic gold "stencil creme" paint, and a stencil brush, and just spent an entire day doing it.

Yeah I should've started at the top left and worked over, but I started at the middle right and worked out instead. i might go back and add points to the top border and circles to the left border. Not sure. Not urgent either way.

The directions they give you on the website mention that a dry brush is critical to stenciling success, and this is a thing I did already know; i have stenciled mostly t-shirts in my time, with dumb bullshit stencils I cut out of manila folders. But they tell you to load up the brush and then take most of the paint off the brush with paper towels, and let me tell you my stencil creme pot barely covered this wall and would not have if I'd put most of the paint onto perfectly good paper towels. So what I did instead is, I went to the grocery store and I got a cannoli, and then I washed out the container it came in, and then I cut the container at the hinges and made myself two paint trays, and one of them I used as a pallette to mix the paints for the outlet covers, and the other half I used as a roller tray to paint the windowsill, then rinsed and used for this. I had that plastic tray nice and dry and I loaded up the brush and then worked that brush around on the plastic, and it was good and dry and then when I came back I could pick up the paint I'd offloaded onto that plastic, and use almost all of it. And later in the process I added a few drops of water to that pallette, and I was able to thin the paint just a tiny bit, just enough to get it to flow a little better but not so much it went under the edges of the stencil.

[image description: a white-stained clear plastic tray with a pot of gold paint sitting in it, a stencil brush propped on the edge, faint traces and blobs of gold paint swirled around it.] when I added a few drops of water they'd collect in the fluted bits around the edges, so if I wanted them I could go swipe the brush there, and if I didn't they stayed out of the way.

I could have been more exacting and precise in my stencil placement, but I knew I had to just do it, so I just did it. Used a level, discovered that the level disagreed with the ceiling and the floor, remembered that this house like all houses is in fact handmade, and so my imperfections would just have to harmonize with the imperfections built in by the builders and the 75 years of settling and whatnot. So I was Zen about it and it worked out.

[image description: a wide shot of the kitchen showing gray cabinets and unadorned blue wall: the stencil is spotless, taped up with blue painter's tape, a stepladder beneath it with a yellow level sitting on it.]

I used painter's tape. The tutorials say you can spray the back of the stencil with spray adhesive to keep it tight against the wall and reduce bleed at the edges. I own spray adhesive, and I know it's sticky as hell and gets on everything. No thanks, I figured I didn't need it, and I don't regret that, I had no problems. I have, as it happens, stenciled a lot of things in my life.

I should make some more stupid stenciled t-shirts, they've been fun.

[image source: two repeats of the stencil have been applied to the wall, and now the plastic stencil template is taped sideways at the bottom of the wall.]

It's a well-designed stencil, and the way you lined it up is that some of the elements are designed to repeat so you just plop them over the previous version. I hadn't premeditated or measured this, but it turned out the last repeat, I could just turn it sideways and it tiled beautifully that way too. No problems. Worked great. The stencil creme paint dried fast enough that there was no problem overlaying it like this either, though I did make a point of doing the ones I was going to overlap first so they'd have the longest to dry. I doubt that mattered.

[image description: the stencil template laid over the edge of a previous repeat, showing a blue edge where the previous repeat doesn't quite align with the new placement.]

This is where me not doing math was maybe a problem. I was not perfectionist about this, I just sometimes accepted that the template had shifted slightly on the previous repeat, and while it lined up perfectly in one spot, it would not quite line up in another. I gambled that this would not matter, and in fact took this photo to check. After I removed the template this time, I went back to photograph this spot to see how the misalignment looked, and... couldn't find it. Could not tell, even though I knew where it had been. So obviously it did not matter. (In these cases, I did not touch up the edges of the misaligned bits, I left them as they'd originally been stenciled. The other elements were not far enough off the anticipated alignment for it to be noticeable. A touch-up would have been more noticeable, an element becoming oversized or slightly misshapen or having a visible edge of layered pigment in it.)

[image description: the stencil template crammed against the edge of the wall, bent and roughly taped in place, and the light switch, plate removed, poking through one of the holes at the right.]

This was the trickiest bit. I just held one hand against wherever I was working, flattening that bit of the stencil to the wall as I worked, and then I'd let go and put my hand on the next bit, and maybe they weren't perfectly in alignment with the previous bits but as long as the stencil was touching the wall well right where I was working, it was a good enough result. The light switch was a bit of a problem and i should properly have removed it but I wasn't about to do that so I didn't. I did the inward-facing points of the leftmost stars, and then did not try to do the upward-downward points or the circles, because it was too hard to get the stencil flat right there. I could go back and add them now, and I might yet, using the very edge of the template, We'll see if I do. It looks fine as it is.

[image description: a plain blue wall with a double outlet plate in it, and the points of the eight-pointed star are around it, protruding from behind the lightswitch plate.]

I had always intended to stencil an element behind the light switch plates on the plain walls, because I felt they don't stand out enough against the teal. I did one, and then realized it was impossible to center it and hard not to get paint on other bits of the walls, since the stencil template is so huge and was covered in paint from doing the whole wall. I realized then that it's just points and I could freehand those. So I did, this is me freehand faux-stenciling the star around this outlet plate, LOL.

[image description: the darkened kitchen early in the morning, under-cabinet lights on but the room dim, and in the distance the wall is shining]

anyway so the next morning i went out and was sitting at the window and turned around and was like "this looks amazing" so I am well pleased with how it turned out, really and truly.

[iceman-soup]

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

[gildedphoenix]

SuperPhantom - White Crow

Posting this now because I'm not sure I'll ever finish it.

Feel free to contribute.

White Crow SuperPhantom

(965 words)

--+--

Dean answered his ringing flip phone. And NO Sam, he doesn't need a smart phone. The battery on this thing lasts 5 days and it survives being in Dean's pocket when he's thrown against a wall by the bad guy of the week.

"Hi Bobby. Whatcha got for us?"

"I hope you've got gas in the take because this one is going to be a bit of a chase." Bobby opened. "I've got reports coming in from all over about a white crow being linked to dozens of deaths. None of the hunters who've looked into it so far have been able to track the creature or find any connections between the victims. The issue is that some of the crimes aren't fresh. The last victim, a Tim Stillion, had been dead for weeks. Can't figure out the cause because the animals had been at his body. And unless this bird can teleport, he was on the other side the country when Stillion was kill't."

Sam, who was already clickity clacking on his laptop, spoke up. "It sounds like the crow isn't a portent of death then, but just a reporter. But how is it finding the bodies?"

"Yeah," Bobby drawled "I figured you'd come to that conclusion. That's why I called you boys. Every other hunter is out here trying to end this bird when it's solved more cold cases then all of them combined. Bunch of idgits."

Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and started towards the garage. "So where are we headed Bobby? Any word on the last sighting?"

"Last couple time it was seen, it was around central Illinois."

"Let's roll"

-=-=-=-=-

Sam Manson revved her vespa and continued chasing the white crow down ST-54. They'd been at this for weeks now. And despite it all, Sam was just happy that she'd found Danny at all.

/three weeks ago/

"There's no way!" leopard print blouse said. "You look like one of my son's friends."

Danny had a tendency to drop whatever he was holding if he got summoned but for once, he kept hold of his cell phone. So when he ended up disappearing in the middle of a Doom speed run, Tucker was able to track him down. And after a few minutes (and way too few reasonable security measures) Sam and Tucker were able to watch a live stream from a web connected Nanny cam.

The room was all white, leather couches pushed back against the walls. Marble and brass coffee table set with white taper candles. Starbucks cups sitting on the ledge of the kitchen counter. And in the middle of the room, Phantom. Desperately trying to convince 6 PTA, HOA, Basic Witches that he was indeed the Ghost King that they were trying to summon.

A woman in a white gauze blouse and white wash jeans stepped forward. It must be her house, because she matched the decor. "How did you highjack the summoning?!" It was the same tone every teen has heard from their parents. The tone that said they'd already decided what had happened and were just waiting for you to admit fault.

"Hey, you summoned me. What did you even want, anyway? Pumpkin spice to be available year round? For the grocery store to accept your expired coupons? How about-"

"Now you listen to me young man," A third woman, dressed in sunny yellow and a high pony tail that did nothing to help her look younger. "You need to learn manners and your parents clearly didn't care to teach you"

("Ouch" danny mumbled, "accurate, but ouch" )

Yellow started chanting and the others quickly caught on and joined in. Danny, realizing that he was running out of time to gas light, gatekeep, or girlboss his way out of a solution, tried the old reliable Plan Z. Run away.

So he turned ghostly tail to the nearest window and - BONK! - was stopped by the shielding on the summoning circle. Which was a first. People usually forgot about that. Danny was now both impressed and worried as be felt both pressure and dread building around him as the chanting volume and speed.

Danny clutched his head as the pressure grew to a screeching point until everything released with a pop. The pressure was gone. The chanting was gone. Danny felt lighter, which was saying something given how gravity was typically just a suggestion while he was in ghost mode. Opening his eyes -and when had he closed them? - he noticed one more difference. Everyone had gotten bigger. And the furniture had gotten bigger. And the room had gotten…. uh oh. He had gotten smaller.

Danny was trying to orient himself and identify where an deep thudding was coming from when he was hit from the side. Foot steps. That's what the thudding was. They were just drastically louder when he was only tall enough to stare people in the shins. And the sidelong assault? A broom. Which connected a second time before he thought to go intangible. (Why did he always forget intangibility?)

The woman in white had gotten a broom and was swatting him towards the open patio door, her strappy white sandals stopping behind him and he frantically tried to coordinate his limbs in that same direction. His limbs did not want to coordinate but he eventually got himself out the door and the broom stopped swatting at him.

Once he cleared the threshold, the door rolled closed with a slam and the lock snicked shut.

"And don't come back unless you've learned respect!" was shouted at him from a nearby window before it, too was slammed shut.

======================================

Looking back into the house, he was met by his own reflection in the sliding glass door.

"SQUAAAAAAK!"

In which Danny and Sam are traveling the US 90's road trip style to absorb the ecto of recent (or semi-recent) murders so Danny can get enough power to break the spell and transform back.

The general hunter community is chasing a white crow and a witch to stop them from committing all these murders.

And Sam and Dean and Bobby are trying to just figure out what's going on.

[floralcrematorium]

Assorted FrUK/FACE Fam Headcanons

These are silly little thoughts I've had while drafting Migraines in Margaritaville, so these apply to the world of that AU (modern, human; FrUK parents raising NA bros in Massachusetts, US). Most of these involve food because I seem to think about them when I'm hungry???

• Francis and Arthur practice "one-parent-one-language" with the boys. Matthew took to French much easier than Alfred did, but both brothers managed to pick it up without much of a fuss. In elementary school the twins would use French to cheat on tests (they weren't allowed to sit next to each other after their schemes were discovered).

• Arthur set the grill on fire three times in one summer. Francis clearly doesn't learn from his mistakes and Arthur is too stubborn to let Francis do all of the work when it comes to preparing dinner.

• Follow up on the point above -- Arthur can prep vegetables and throw together food that doesn't require too much measuring or too many steps on the stovetop. He doesn't have the patience for most dishes and doesn't have a sense of what spices go well together/what is enough vs too much. Francis lets him help by chopping up vegetables and Arthur was usually the one to pack the boys' lunches. Sometimes they'd get leftover portions of whatever they had for dinner last night, but Arthur often defaulted to some sort of wrap with deli meat and assorted veggies/crackers for snack.

• Francis gives me similar vibes to those youtube moms who try to make homemade versions of popular American snacks. He may spend the weekdays at work in a kitchen, but on the weekends he's at home, still in the kitchen, trying to make homemade fruit leather and homemade cheese crackers for his sons.

• Arthur's the one more willing to let the boys get snacks from the store or take out. Francis is very much "we have McDonald's at home."

• Both Francis and Arthur would've been so excited to decorate the twins' nursery. They're both artistically inclined, be it in different ways. Arthur made blankets for both of them; Matthew is red and Alfred is blue. Francis paints floral designs on the furniture, in particular purple irises and both red and white roses.

• Because the twins were identical and because babies are kinda just blobs, they definitely accidentally mixed the twins up. The color coding might've come after the swap. They had a crisis about it. Francis "sacre bleu, we just gave two people permanent identity crises" Bonnefoy and Arthur "if we compare them to every picture we have of them we can figure it out" Kirkland. I'm imagining this happening before the twins have enough hair for their cowlicks to really form.

• It's tradition in the Kirkland-Bonnefoy household to have a box of Whitman's chocolates at every family party and Alfred is the reason why. One Christmas each twin got to pick out something special for the party and Alfred picked out the 22 piece Whitman sampler in the yellow box. They're not the best chocolates, but it became a tradition. Thankfully there's two layers in the box so Mattie and Al can have their own messenger boy pieces (the shaped chocolate that's the centerpiece of each layer).

• Neither Arthur or Francis have favor for one twin over the other. They both have their own activities they can do with Alfred and Matthew separately. Francis will cook and bake with Alfred and draw with Matthew. Arthur teaches Matthew to garden and watches old (by his son's standards) movies with Alfred.

• Francis is the parent the boys can come to no questions asked. Arthur isn't apathetic, but Francis is more inclined to give more thoughtful advice for relationships and general fuck-ups. He won't press on why or how something happened, but will help his sons figure out the best way to solve a problem.

• When Alfred and Mattie turned 10, Arthur wanted to teach them the importance of personal finance. He would give the boys $5 each week to spend on snacks at the grocery store (Arthur does the couponing and the shopping for the house). They were allowed to hold onto the money to use for later and could help with the couponing.

• Arthur drags the family out to Salem every Autumn. Sure, they live in Massachusetts and are well aware of how bad tourist season is, but he's fascinated with the city. Alfred initially went because he really liked this one New York style pizza shop in the Witch City Mall (how they got Francis to step foot in there, I don't know), but eventually grew interested in the witchy stuff Salem has to offer. Francis only puts up with it because the city has an art museum and weekly art fairs in the Fall. Matthew dreads their yearly trip. He loathes it. He'd rather tag along with Francis to the museum.

• Until the boys were old enough to start protesting, they had family Halloween costumes. Francis thought it was tacky, but saw the appeal when Arthur got the twins (still babies) all dressed up in lobster costumes.

[oh-saints]

anything with max please! but please make it happy ending?

taking a little break from footballers, shall we?

you

despite all the success and achievements max verstappen has secured in his bag, there's still one thing he wishes to have but knows he can't.

max verstappen x doctor!reader

note: this is inspired by one of the scene from one of my favourite kdrama; hospital playlist (s1; 2020). i hope i do the drama some justice for its amazing rollercoaster ride (#spoiler) so max can be humbled for a minute. but this time, i happen to write during my family trip so this is not proof-read yet.

when the name of his very bestfriend popped up, max couldn't hold back from smiling.

he'd previously told her that he's coming back tonight and asked if she was free for a catch up session. due to the nature of their jobs, the two friends couldn't see each other as much as they'd love to.

if he had his way, she wouldn't be working as hard as she is now. nothing in this world can make max's life better—and this was saying a lot when he's achieved everything earthly possible—than to have her at every race. win or lose, max knows there's always someone waiting on him to cross the finish line, as long as he's safe and sound.

nobody ever asks that of him. it's always wins, titles. no matter the cost, no matter the consequence of this very dangerous sport.

"hi—"

"can you come over tonight?"

max's heart immediately took a free dive.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

"so sorry i called you very late into the night,"

she didn't let him express how much he'd missed seeing her. as soon as she opened the door, she strode back inside of her apartment. her hands immediately reached for the white pristine coat hanging on the wall as she passed by.

"i got a call from the hospital but my nanny's not picking up,"

max was still silent. they'd fallen into the habit of her saying the same thing and he'd remembered them all by now. after this, she'd cited her usual justification. "sorry, i forgot telling you about it because there's always someone calling me when i want to do that."

"sorry, i forgot to tell you—"

"i know, i understand," and max truly does. with how little monaco is, he understands she becomes a well-sought surgeon here. he's actually rather proud, if anything. "go save the world."

she looked up at him from behind the kitchen counter, and max swore she looked dashing as ever, with the gentle yellow lighting highlighting her features. she is one of the rare kind, one who never needs an elaborative piece of clothing to enhance her beauty. she is inner beauty personified—at least per max's standard, but supposedly it says a lot because max isn't kidding when he said he'd seen the bests of the world.

"thank you, max. you don't know how grateful i am of you," and that smile right there, radiating gentleness and calmness and pure yet gratitude, is the very reason why he always heeds to her whims. "but my kid's burning right now so can you do things i've listed down here while i'm gone?"

"sure."

there went another of max's resolution, even before he knows what she'd asked of him. he's so puny in her hands that his father once gaslighted him with her as a bait. so different to the cold, ruthless max verstappen everyone labels him to be.

after running through everything on the list together and making sure max understood them once more, for she wouldn't be able to be contacted for at least the next 3 hours, she finally put her arms to the coat hanging on her shoulder proudly. she reached for her bag, and when she was about to pick up the car keys, max halted her hand.

"please use taxi," he said, and she wondered why. "for my sanity sake, knowing you'll make it safe there."

she wanted to argue that there was no guarantee she'd make it safe with a taxi, no different than driving on her own, but she nodded wordlessly. she'd asked max to come down here in short notice, not long after he told her he was in town and only to make him babysit her kid, but he'd come with no question asked. taking taxi was the least she could do for him.

it seemed like the kid knew she left their home, for the cry ensued not long after, like a chick looking for the hen. thankfully it wasn't max's first rodeo, more over when his girlfriend has her kid of her own.

unfortunately.

"hey, hey," he cooed gently, and the little one scratched the teary eyes, crying stopped at the sight of max. he was always the favourite in this household, always coming here with something in his hands the kid doesn't know it exists. toys, actions figures, you name it. "are you okay?"

"maxie?" suddenly he remembered his sister's comment about his father instinct spiking whenever this particular kid was around. he'd even let them call him by his first name, no specific title else needed. so unlike him, when he taught leo and luka to call him by "oom maxie" or uncle maxie in dutch.

"thirsty or hungry, schatje?" max immediately picked up the split version of his best friend, and the feeling of being hugged back affectionately by his best friend's entire world contended the best feeling in the world for him. it was as if the little treasure was trying to get a hold of him entirely with their little arms and hands, like he meant the world for them.

like he is the world to them as much as the kid means the world to him. oh, if only they knew...

the kid passionately shook their head as soon as they tucked themselves comfortably against the crook of his neck. max paced back and forth for them, in hope his bouncy steps would calm them down.

"alright, lieve. you let me know when you do, okay?"

but he was only met by soft snores.

he peered down at his best friend's entire world, the axis to her existence, the reason behind her juggling her personal and professional world just to make sure they get only the best of both worlds. for that alone, max had already loved the kid like his own.

and he'd love to have them as his own, providing everything the kid's heart desire, knowing he could give them everything of it at a heartbeat. knowing he could give them what they deserve, after being deprived of a proper, fatherly love for so long.

if only she let him. if only she saw him as one.

but max knew it all boiled down to him. if only he'd denied her desire to get married to that good-for-nothing that turned out to be a cheating bastard she called her ex-husband, she wouldn't have to suffer everything of this on her own. the child didn't have to go through all the mess life would bring to someone so early in their age.

it pained him that he never let out the "marry me instead" that was poking the tip of his tongue when she'd asked you to be her men of honour. it hurt max verstappen to the point of no return, more than being robbed a championship win, that he could've had the smart kid with her instead from a long time ago, and a life he'd always dreamed of building.

with her, and no one else.

because he knew that whatever he was feeling right now, as he was holding her entire life in the home she built so hard despite the single-mother stigma, is the closest thing to right in this life that feels so wrong.

not even his multiple championship titles he had in his bag. not even the feeling of winning a race so many he'd grown accustomed to. per max verstappen's standard, that was given; with so much hard work he'd been putting since he could walk, thanks to his father.

his phone dinged, breaking his train of thought. it was the alarm that he'd set up to remind him of the checklist she'd made for him. the sound stirred the child in their sleep, and as they noticed him walking away from the room, they whined, "please stay, maxie."

like the effect of the mother had on him, he succumbed to the whim. but good lord, my goodness, there had never been something as liberating as that. it was a paradoxic feeling where you don't feel weak as you surrender yourself, instead it grew so much on him that someone needed him. it feels so damn good to be needed by someone, his heart soared so high as the revelation hit him.

maybe that was what max verstappen had been yearning for.

that one piece in his life that anyone around him didn't know how to fill the void. a home to go back to, he thought, as he fell asleep in such a ridiculous position to fit the crib's size.

but due to his lightning reflex towards every sound and movement around him, max jolted up when he heard a click of the door closing. it was small; he deducted it wasn't mean to be disturbing.

that could only be her checking up on him.

the kid was now drenched in sweat in his embrace, so he decided to change the pajamas first before heading out of the nursery. he did it as fast as he could because he knew she was making his favourite mushroom soup outside from the smell of it.

the pang on his chest came back as he got out of the child's room, only to be met by his best friend's back from the kitchen, busy scooping her signature delicacy to a bowl matching the set only designated for her and her child—his bowl—because it looked so domestic. they looked so domestic like this. they looked like they'd make a great family.

yes, it wasn't the first time they did this, but that was what made it hurt all the same everytime he came over.

"how was the surgery?"

just in time when she turned her body to him. she smiled immediately, both at the sight of a disheveled max and at the question thrown at her. max looked so bulky in the house full of her delicate touch, so different yet not out of touch, for his question brought warmth to her chest.

it'd been a while since someone had asked the question—the simplest question of asking how she'd been holding up at work—that didn't come out from her child's mouth. from someone who actually knew how hard it was to make a living. from someone who was genuinely interested at what she did. from someone all of the above.

"got a bleeding out of hand but all's good now," she'd spare the bloody detail later. right now, she just wanted to bask how peaceful their rhythms are as the f1 winner took a seat on the other end of the kitchen counter. "i hope my kid's not a hassle for you."

"you and your kid can never be a hassle to me," max made sure to stare down at her as he replied her, wanting her to know he wasn't kidding. "i love spending time with you two."

and it scared her deep down to see max so set on what he said. she could only hope he wasn't implying anything else behind his words, for she was afraid it would bring unattained hope to her heart.

despite her strong display she'd paraded around the town, she is only a human with two hands and feet and a heart. and she is a woman, first and foremost, who was once in love in max verstappen.

the real max verstappen before all the achievements, the fame, the titles. when max verstappen had eyes only for the glory, and never hungry for anything else.

but the one-sided journey could be so lonely, she never realised that. it resulted her finding love in a hopeless place. at least that was was she thought, love, until she discovered her ex was cheating with one of her fellow doctors.

so she knew she had to extinguish every kind of sparks before it grew stronger. especially now, where every of her decision doesn't only affect her, but her child also.

"spend your time for something else, max," she smiled bitterly now and max already hated whatever her mind fed her just seconds ago. "tell me, what's your favourite thing to do in your spare time? going for a vacation?"

"whatever it is we're doing now," max replied, soup still untouched. it frightened her that the eyes were not just set anymore; she'd recognised that winning determination anywhere. "wanna know why?"

she sat down, eyes trying to hold his, ignoring the fluttering feeling inside of her and set her mind to simply wanting to know the words he had in mind. max took it as an invitation to might as well break it down.

"because it's you. it's always been you."

[heartfullofleeches]

Ok sorry if this would be out of character for them but miller legit seems like they'd dress up as a minion randomly. Y/n would wake up and see them in a minion onesie. Of course a folded clean one is also on the bed for y/n to wear too

Oh no this is totally in character for Miller. Every other week is halloween for them with how much they like to dress up. From maid outfits to those inflatable dinosaur costumes cause I can't stand minions - Millers got it all but those yellow tic tacs in their closest. They always have an extra or whatever would make them couple costumes like Peach and Mario (they always let their darling choice first - but they realllly wanna be Peach)

Miller calls Reader into the kitchen for breakfast and they're standing over the stove wearing this: