Tumgik
#this is definitely up there with the more questionable things I've made
ggidolsmuts · 15 hours
Text
Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena
Tumblr media
"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"
"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.
"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"
"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!" 
Yena's a good girl.
At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.
True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.
"What? I haven't!"
"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.
"How would you know?" you fire back.
"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"
"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."
"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."
"Yes."
"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.
"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."
"That's all it took? My son is good!"
"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.
Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.
"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.
"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"
"That's great, you eat so well!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.
"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.
"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.
"Thanks, I gotta go now."
"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.
"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.
"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"
"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"
"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"
"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"
"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"
"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"
"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.
"Fine."
"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Please sir."
"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.
"Spank me."
"What's the magic word?"
"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.
"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.
"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.
"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.
"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"
"Oppa?"
"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.
"Manners Yena."
"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.
"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.
"Are you forgetting something?"
"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"
"Say it like you mean it."
"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.
"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.
You slam her down on you.
"Oh fuck!"
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"
"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."
"Okay I'll go get the beer."
"No dear, get the ginseng wine."
"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.
"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.
"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."
"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"
"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"
"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"
Yena's a good girl.
The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.
In bed.
In the heat of the moment.
While you're deep in Yena.
~~
"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.
"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.
"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.
"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.
"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.
"That many?"
"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.
"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.
"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."
"Of course, your parents are so nice!"
"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."
"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"
"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.
"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"
"Yena..." you start.
"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"
"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.
"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.
"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."
"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.
Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.
A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!
371 notes · View notes
desertfangs · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
Five Times Daniel and Marius Almost Kissed And One Time They Did [AO3]
Marius/Daniel - Mature - 6,254 words
Last September, I wrote Five Times Daniel and Armand Almost Kissed During the Chase Years & One Time They Did and to be honest, it's one of the fics I'm most proud of (it's definitely one of the best fics I've written in recent years). So I thought it'd be fun to do another one this year, this time for Marius and Daniel, who are taking up a lot of space in my mind.
One thing we don't get much of in canon is how Marius and Daniel really come together, and how their relationship evolves, so it seemed the perfect thing to explore in this way. And since 5 + 1 is a @vamptember prompt, what better day to post it!
Short Excerpt:
Daniel was a beautiful boy, there was no denying that. Soft, short blond hair, a youthful face, intense violet eyes. Armand had an eye for beauty and Daniel was no exception. 
But the boy was distractible, often stopping mid-sentence to stare at the wallpaper or watch the curtains dance in the breeze. One time Daniel agreed to walk Marius down to the public dock so he could see the large ferry boat that brought tourists over from Miami and the boy stopped dead in the middle of the path to watch a palm tree sway.
Daniel was also in near constant motion, dancing to some invisible beat or moving his hands around as if unsure what to do with them. He held his forefinger and middle finger out in front of him sometimes, as if holding an invisible cigarette. He laughed at the way the wind ran through his short ashen hair and the sounds that the seals made off shore. 
He spoke quickly and sometimes thoughtlessly, and Armand would put a gentle warning hand on Daniel’s arm if he said something out of turn, which would garner him a curious look from his fledgling, who had probably been too busy talking to realize he’d perhaps crossed a line. 
Despite that, Daniel was a good listener. He would happily sit while Marius talked all night, only interjecting to offer an insightful thought or ask a clever question. He held a burning curiosity and a desire to know everything, qualities Marius admired. 
True, he was a bit frenetic, but he was simply new in the blood and a young man of the modern age, with a temperament more common in this time: casual, a little careless, and easily sidetracked. 
One night, after Armand had declined to come to the mainland with him—something about Louis having gone somewhere and Armand wanting to find Lestat—Marius asked Daniel, who was sitting in one of the Villa’s many parlors wearing headphones and listening to records.
Daniel seemed surprised at the invitation but accepted immediately, standing so fast he tore the headphone cord out of the record player, and then looked abashed, a faint pink color tinting his cheeks. He set the headphones carefully on the chair and then smiled at Marius. He had a beautiful smile, beseeching and charming. Yes, Marius could see why this young man had captured Armand’s heart. 
Read the Rest on AO3
29 notes · View notes
warning-heckboop · 21 hours
Note
Omg hi! I absolutely LOVE your changeling au I have been intrigued ever since I saw it! Tbh I find it very interesting that you went with the direction of Peri just not liking Dev at the moment. Most people write him forgiving Dev after talking about how they both could have communicated better, but it's really interesting seeing Peri just upset at Dev. I both want to say it's justified but also want to punch him lol. Anyway! I do have a question. Since Dev got his memories wiped would it be possible for him to be given them back now that he's transforming? If it's possible it seems like it would be the smart thing to do since he's gonna learn about faries again anyway and at least with his memories back he'll understand a bit more what's happening and trust everyone to help him. Him and Peri could even have that make up talk. Just a thought sorry for the long ask lol
Apologies for the late reply. I got this ask before the other asks in which I was rambling about Peri's character, but I just kind of got off on a tangent with that.
I'm so glad you enjoy the au!! As for your question, it's definitely something I've been thinking about. I definitely think it's possible for Dev to get his memories back, since we've already seen a child with wiped memories get them back before in the original series, iirc. What's been up for debate in my mind is regarding who would want him to get them back right away, and who wouldn't.
It might seem like a no brainer that everyone would just want him to remember right away, because that would help avoid the additional distress of Dev having to focus on relearning all about fairies while also already going through all these physical changes. But what makes me hesitate is what I've mentioned before about how, at least in the eyes of the Fairy Council, Dev is supposed to be living a relatively happy childhood to make up for his father's. Giving Dev his memories back means giving him back the knowledge that he caused so much pain and chaos, and almost killed multiple people, including some of the only people whose ever actually cared for him. It's not exactly the kind of knowledge most people can be happy living with.
So I'm leaning towards it being the case that, while Jorgen could easily restore Dev's memories, he's been instructed absolutely not to, at least for the time being, by the Fairy Council in order to maintain the possibility that Dev could still be a happy, normal child again once he's made it through the hell that is precocious magic puberty.
That's not to say, of course, that Dev might not manage to start remembering things on his own, with all that unstable magic coursing through his veins, and being around Peri through a majority of this process.
21 notes · View notes
em-dualism · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
so, the grimace shake, huh.
23 notes · View notes
cosmicsnufkin · 2 months
Text
.
#ignore me#i'm just stressed out#the thing is. i made a decision a long time ago not to reblog posts with guilt-trips no matter how well intentioned#both for my own sake and bc i didn't want to be the one putting it on somebody's dash#especially after reading about how especially difficult guilt-trippy posts can be for e.g. ppl with ocd or smth similar#and that's all well and good in most cases when it's not directly tied to ppl's lives#but when it comes to this it does definitely feel like i don't have a leg to stand on since it so very much is people's lives at stake#and i don't feel like i have the moral highground to decide something like that#especially when - while they might affect people in a similar way to guilt-trips - they're not intentionally that#another one of my problems with sharing them on tumblr is that i don't have enough active followers for anything to reach a big audience#and i barely get notes anyway and these certainly don't get enough to get around#probably bc ppl are 1) overwhelmed and have already given money if they can#and 2) wary since they don't know which ones to trust#especially when the scam ones look so much like the real ones and idek how ppl know someone is qualified to verify a fundraiser#all 3 asks i've gotten have been vetted by the same account and it feels off#but the thought of not sharing when they've reached my inbox feels cruel#and it all just feels so lackluster when there are tens upon thousands of fundraisers needing to raise hundreds upon thousands of euros#and it just seems to lead to most of them getting a third of the way there#it's so much more organized with smth like project olive branch particularly on tt where a bigger creator focuses on one family at a time#bc it increases the chance of individual fundraisers meeting their goals#while this just feels like spreading sadness guilt and a lackluster feeling of hopelessness with barely any result#esp when most of the notes are 'reblogging bc i cant donate'#(also genuine question: where does the many go if a fundraiser doesn’t meet its goal? to gofundme the site??)#bc like. even if i put all of the money i own towards one fundraiser i wouldn't meet the goal#rn i donate monthly to doctors without borders in the hopes that the money actually goes to use#and i've donated to a few fundraisers but there are so. so. many. and i don't understand how you're supposed to CHOOSE#it's absolutely fucked up to have to sit there and think about which family you're going to give your money to#it's not like one family 'deserves' it more than another#they all fucking deserve the money! they all deserve to get out of there they all deserve to live their fucking lives FREE#idek what i'm doing here anymore i hope no one actually read this i just needed to get it out and my diary wasn't cutting it
2 notes · View notes
ghostedeabha · 1 year
Note
imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
8K notes · View notes
neverendingford · 1 year
Text
.
#sexcapades#tag talk#ugh gender. I'm slowly narrowing in on it like a target that I have to fire far too many range-finding shots on#unfortunately I'm missing so many shots. each one gives me more information on the heading but it's still annoying work.#I like occasional she/her as a reminder that I'm not cis but I am absolutely not your fucking princess.#I say that because I literally woke up to a text that said “hope you slept well princess” which like. eyeachgh.#I hate good morning texts and I have just discovered I hate being called princess#gender goal is “girl who nobody even notices is a girl because she's one of the boys”#the one who everyone goes “but not you. you're like.. a guy”#ugh. I really do vibe with the “secret third gender” vibe. I made that joke forever ago about my gender being whatever those yaoi boys have#and I stand by it. neither a man nor woman but a secret third thing (he/they anime uke)#anyway. thank you dude last night for the science but I do not think I will be pursuing my studies with you any further.#I've never felt the need to change my pronouns because like. I'm a dude. I like she/her sometimes because it validates my gnc vibes#but like. fashionably she/her but functionally he/they. Idkkkkk I hate gender is annoying#being viewed as 100% woman feels definitely worse than being viewed as 100% man though. that's for damn sure.#gender is “guy who has a suspiciously large chest and narrow waist”#I got questions about spelling my name Robin not Robyn cause apparently Robin is typically the male spelling. and like. that feels right.#skirts feel weird. I'll die before I wear a dress. gender is “teenage girl who will punch you if you can her girly”#thanks for calling me she/her like I asked but unfortunately you have now misgendered me.#plus I don't think I'm kinky enough for him. at least not in the “punish the bad girl” way. which like. there's a gendered dynamic there.#idk. sex and gender are wild and results are still being determined#I envy people who know what they want when they're younger. not all of us are fortunate enough to have that 🙄
0 notes
Text
My Darling
"Who even is that guy?"
"That's my darling"
----
It starts with a post.
Eddie had posted a photo on Instagram holding his acoustic guitar, cross legged on a chair.
Recently he had been front cover of a magazine of 'him' wrapped around a young woman. Living the Rockstar life.
His agent had suggested he show a more domestic side to him, a softer side.
Hence the acoustic.
It was summer so Steve was off of work and sleeping on the couch behind him, blankets up to his ears. The only thing visible was his hair peeking out and his arm hanging over the side of the couch. A sleeve of tattoos running down it all the way to his knuckles. Eddie loved that arm. He loved the way the tattoo curved around his knuckles like water. His nice, big. veiny hand that-
WOAH off topic.
He had done half the tattoos himself and made sure he payed for it all.It was the least he could do for all Steve has done for him.
They met eight and a half years ago, Steve had seen Eddie play at shitty clubs and recognized his mop of hair getting hit in the alleyway.
Eddie thought he was a goner for sure until Steve ripped the guy off him.
Steve just shot him a smile and complimented his guitar skills.
Eddie fell to his knees. He was gone for him.
He invited Steve to band practice as a thank you since he didn't have much to offer.
Two weeks later they were dating and Steve has been their number one fan since.
When Eddie got the record deal he dedicated everything to Steve.
Everything always was for him. As it should be.
Anyways,
Eddie posted the photo excited to promote the acoustic cover of his hit song 'My Hero, My Darling'.
The comments instantly went ballistic asking who the random man behind him was. He definitely wasn't in the band and why would notorious lady killer Eddie Munson have a man in his house...he couldn't possibly have friends.
Eddie responded to one comment only, knowing the rest would sort itself out.
"That's my darling ❤️"
----
"Eddie," Steve was frowning at him, poking his side with his foot.
"Eddie look at me this is serious."
"Yes my love?"
"You outed yourself. You were doing such a good job keeping this a secret. This will change everything."
Eddie turns over until his holding Steve close to him, his face in his hands.
"Good. I'm tired of hiding you my darling. I'm tired of the accusations."
"But Eddie you OUTED yourself."
"I won't say anything about you, I'd never out you Stevie. But I'm done hiding that I'm a simple man in love."
"...me too. I'm done too."
"Darling are you sure? This is a big deal. What about your school? Your principal?"
"I don't care. Everyone important to me knows. My family, my real family, know and don't care. They do wonder why I've been single for eight years but they'll get over it."
"Marry me."
"What?"
"Marry me oh my god that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I love you so much please I can't live another moment not having you mine. Besides, if you get fired that's definitely a lawsuit and you know I've been pleasing for you to quit so I can take care of you, but you love those damn kids. Just...be mine...please."
"I've been yours. Since the start. Since always." They both have tears in their eyes.
"Yes?"
"YES OF COURSE YES!"
They're giggling through their kisses.
---
"Heeeeyyy everyone thanks for joining my live. I have something super important to inform you on! I'm getting married!!!!!"
The comments instantly flood in questioning him on moving too fast, asking if he's on drugs. The usual.
"Oooooh you guys have no idea."
----
The photo goes up an hour after the live ends.
It's Steve sitting on the couch, glasses on, red pen in his mouth. He's wearing a thick sweater and grumbling grading papers.
He looks so soft, so smooth, it's Eddie's favorite picture. The next picture in the carousel is Steve backstage at his concert. They're holding onto each other like they need each other to breathe.
The last picture is a selfie taken minutes after. Eddie with his stage makeup sweating off his face smiling brightly at the camera. and Steve kissing his cheek. Eyes squinted shut and eyeliner thick, he had worn it as a treat for Eddie.
It was well received.
The caption reads:
"I'm so happy to announce I'm marrying my best friend and partner of eight years! Everyone meet my darling. Steve is a local middle school teacher who has literally saved my life more than once. He saved my heart. God, I love him so much.
P.s. yes the tours are in the summer so Stevie can travel with us. I'd never leave him."
---
Bonus engagement edition:
"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED TO EDDIE MUNSON?!"
"Yes. We've been over this."
Eddie stuck out his hand to shake, "hi, Eddie Munson, nice to meet you."
"YOU HID THIS FOR EIGHT YEARS?!"
"Yes."
"I'M BASICALLY YOUR BROTHER! HE'S MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY!"
"Yes Dustin and you can't keep a secret."
"...fair...welcome to the family."
*inspired by my friend only learning her cousin was marrying someone famous when he showed up to Thanksgiving and she lost her mind
990 notes · View notes
astonmartingf · 2 months
Text
YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT! ; F1 GRID
f1 grid x driver!reader . . . gen z f1 driver ranks previous crushes in f1 in a new tiktok video that sends fans in a coma /real
amgf well well well, guess who's back (hopefully) uhm i'm enrolled and officially an intern 😀👍 we love to see that, i made this before hungary i think? but yeah, i have too many drafts and no will to write, i'm blaming the new season in wild rift 😋 and because i've been busy with the internship thingy... a lot of seminars and preparations to do sooooo i hope you enjoy this like always
Tumblr media
yourusername uploaded a new video
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
. . . view 736,937 comments
user73 hello? came running from twt, everyone talking about this
user62 i thought people were making a big deal on twt like usual but this is actual next levels of insane
user32 yn was bored with summer break and decided to break the internet and possibly the team's pr manager
user50 i relate because i too am not immune to blond hair and blued eyed men...
landonorris i think you forgot to message one more driver on the grid...
→ yourusername you're right @/yukitsunoda0511 i had a crush on you before 😌☝️
→ landonorris i meant a british driver on the grid...
→ yourusername alex is already there???
→ landonorris a mclaren driver perhaps.....
→ yourusername oh my gosh you reminded me!!!! i definitely had a really tiny crush on mclaren @/carlossainz 😋🫶
→ yourusername look lando i specifically said in the second slide that if you're not there then i probably hated you, people said you have poor reading comprehension, didn't think it'd be true 🫤
user38 cleared lando fr!!!!!!
user93 no charles leclerc, max verstappen, daniel ricciardo? fraud 🤥
→ user05 wtf not everyone likes them????
→ user17 y'all it's not that deep, this is yn's crush ranking why are y'all projecting////
georgerussell catching strays on a post about you having a crush on alex before????
→ yourusername oh well... i say it the way i see it and i see the way you look at alex 🙄🙏
logansargeant well well well
→ yourusername shut up logan 🙄
→ oscarpiastri no... but this is interesting ✍️ ain't it @/logansargeant?
→ yourusername shut your traps, i didn't give y'all exclusive content for you to run your mouth online
→ user48 honey i fear you're already running your mouth enough 🥹
user72 is no one taking about the mick one???? like??? i'm thinking about their f3 and f2 moments now and i see it
→ user49 OMG!NNN exactly! i get it now, the tension when they're together
jensonbutton reading your message at 2am asking for permission is not something i expected, my question though is... am i p1?
→ yourusername technically you're p-last atm but considering you're my first f1 crush i guess you're p1
→ jensonbutton i see... one rank higher than @/nicorosberg 👍
→ nicorosberg is this what catching strays mean @/yourusername?
→ yourusername yes 😭
dennis_hauger this is not what i said to you, i'm about to sue for defamation
→ yourusername you can't do that, i need a wag to bring for races
→ dennis_hauger i'm racing too?
→ yourusername and?
user85 mr dennis hauger??? did we miss three chapters here?
→ user69 no!!! they've been going at it since the beginning look up the 2022 f2 season
→ user03 there are various compilations in youtube and in yn's youtube channel !!!!
mickshumacher what is this? this is not what you sent me?
→ yourusername is it slander yn day? i'm out here airing my business and y'all say i'm a fraud istg
→ mickshumacher hahahahahaha but i agree with everything you said, i felt the same way
→ yourusername hello? when was this?
→ mickshumacher probably three, four years ago? same year with you, things didn't just work out
→ yourusername dang so you could've been my wag? ngl glad it's not you 😂🫵
→ mickshumacher i agree, who would want to be with you atp
→ yourusername slander and defamation?????
→ mickshumacher well who doesn't have a wag now? exactly, not me
yourusername wow i made this so we could have fun, but now everyone is just making fun of me, might as well delete this before the PR team sees this 😮‍💨
→ user52 noooooo please keep this up
→ user17 this is actually very slayful if you!!! don't ❌❌ let 🫵 the haters 🤡😈💩 stop 🛑✋ you
→ user28 this is actually what we want this summer, i'm begging 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · 9 months
Note
Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present
"Where are they?"
"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"
"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"
"They're fine! Oh my god."
"Then where are they?"
The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."
"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"
The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.
"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.
"No."
The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."
"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"
The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.
The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.
"Their grandma died."
"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"
Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"
"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.
"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."
"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."
The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"
"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"
"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."
"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"
"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"
"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."
"I'm not giving you their number."
"Why not?"
"It's against policy."
"I'd like to express my condolences."
The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."
The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.
The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.
"I hate you too, don't worry."
"I should kill you."
"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."
They ended up glaring at each other.
"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"
The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."
Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.
They all made sure it didn't happen again.
3K notes · View notes
2tcs · 4 months
Text
DPxDC prompt (?)
Okay I'm thinking Danny, with a de-aged Dan and Ellie, move to Gotham while being hunted by the GIW. What's the first thing he does after securing a place to stay? Why, contact the local revenant of course. This is kinda how I see it going.
“Ay boss, is someun er ta see ya.” Bob said while peeking through the open office door. Everyone knows that when Red Hood has his door open it was okay to pop in. No one has made the mistake of interrupting the Hood when the doors closed a second time.
“Who is it?” Jason asked, not even looking up from his papers.
“Says he goes by ‘Danny’.” Bob said while stepping fully into office.
“Who the fuck is Danny? Don't think I know anyone by that name. What's he look like?” Jason asked, signing off on something before putting it aside.
“Not sommun from round er. Skinny fella. He’s one a them twinks is wha I think they called em. He’s Wayne bait. Thas fo cerain.” Bob saids with a shrug.
With a sigh Jason stands up and moves the rest of his papers into one of his desk’s drawers.
“Fine. Let him in. Probably Replacement with that description.” Jason says. Grumbling the last part.
A few minutes later a young man. Maybe a year younger than Jason walked in. Wayne bait was definitely an understatement. Like I had all the physical characteristics and was marking the exits.
“So Danny, what can the great Red Hood do for you?” Jason asked while spreading his arms wide.
“Me and my kids need to lay low. Crime Alley seemed like the best place for that.” Danny said before shifting his eyes to look a little to the right of Jason's helmeted head.
“A lot of people come here when they have nowhere else to go. But few come talk to me about it.” Jason said while leaning back in his chair.
Danny looked back at Jason with a considering look before sighing and pulling out a flash drive from one of his pockets.
“Look. The only reason why I'm approaching you is because this might affect some of the people in Gotham. And now that I've gotten a good look at you I guarantee it will affect you specifically if the people who are after me come here. It wouldn't sit right with me if I didn't give you some sort of heads up.” He said while placing the USB on the desk and stepping back.
“What's on it?” Jason asked nodding towards the USB.
“Laws that make it legal for people like us to be captured, experimented on, and ended. If you want to know more you just have to plug in the USB and read through the files.” Danny said. “As for me I just want to keep my kids safe. Do you have any questions for me while I'm here or am I good to go?”
“Yeah. What made you decide that here was the best place to lay low?”
“What better place to hide than one of the most cursed cities in America?” Danny said before offering a half hearted salute and walking out of the office.
2K notes · View notes
corkinavoid · 3 months
Text
DPxDC Multiverse Police
I've seen the idea that GIW is actually SCP foundation somewhere, and lately, I've been thinking a lot about Fenton Happy Ending, so I bring you this. Behold, GIW/SCP, Team Phantom, and Fentons are working all together, and the whole wide multiverse fears them.
So, a giant green Lazarus Pit that looks more like a vortex than an actual Pit randomly opens in, say, Ohio. Because I heard a lot of weird shit happens in Ohio. The world is worried, JL gets sent there, but they are not exactly sure of what to do with it. Nothing comes out of it, and, well, no one is volunteering to just jump inside it - Batman made everyone read his files on Lazarus Waters, and they are reasonably wary.
But then a thing appears literally out of thin air on top of it. It looks like a spaceship, kind of, but more sci-fi than what real spaceships look like. And before anyone says anything, a large green - Lazarus green - dome appears, effectively covering both the ship and the Pit and cutting the heroes off.
The heroes are Confused (tm). And worried. And no one has an idea of what the fuck is going on, for all they know it could be some kind of yet another alien invasion.
Then, two figures on the hoverboards - one read and one teal - come out of the ship, flying over the Pit. They are followed by drones, and they all look like they are... scanning the Pit? A few more people, wearing black visors and shiny white suits that look like they are packed with all kinds of tech, slide down on the ropes straight inside the Pit. It sure looks like they are very familiar with it and have a good idea of what they are doing, working as a team.
One of the figures on the hoverboard, the one in a teal suit, notices the heroes on the other side of the green dome. She - because both of them look feminine enough - slows down and flies down to the ground, landing in front of Superman and taking off her helmet. It reveals a rather young, no older than twenty years old girl with fiery red hair tied in a bun, with eyes the same color as her suit. She smiles at them.
"Hi, you must be the Justice League?" She asks politely, and as Superman gives her a nod just out of surprise at her friendly attitude, she touches her ear, "Mom, this is DC sector universe. Pretty sure it's not a dimension we've been before, though." She turns back to Superman, "You don't recognize any of this, do you?"
Batman intervenes before Supes has the time to answer, "Who are you?"
The girl nods and taps her ear again, "Yeah, they definitely don't know us. So mark it as either an unfamiliar dimension or an unfamiliar timeline." Then she turns to Batman and smiles.
"You can call us interdimensional police. And since all the Batmans we ever encountered never believed us, I'm going to send you a copy of the files your other versions complied all together, so you can read and add more if you feel like it."
She touches her wrist computer, and, a few moments later, Batman's comm comes online with Oracle's voice:
"B, I'm getting a shit ton of files on... Multiverse Law Enforcement?.. out of nowhere. What's going on?"
Now, JL is baffled. Some of them - Flashes and Bats, for example - knew there was a whole wide multiverse going on, but to learn the multiverse has police? That's new.
Meanwhile, the redhead continues:
"The green thing behind me is a natural portal to the Infinite Realms, the dimension between dimensions. Which is really not what is supposed to be happening, so we are in the process of fixing it. It will take from ten minutes to a few hours, depending on what's on the other side, but the portal will be gone soon, and then I'll have to ask you some questions."
"Questions about what?" Asks Flash, and the girl waves her hand in the air.
"Oh, well, about the portals? If one so big is opening up, it means a few smaller ones had to exist in this dimension already. Our tech is not picking them up if they are smaller than a certain size, but you must have seen them before. I believe in the DC sector, you call them Lazarus Pits? We can take care of them later, too."
The second hoverboarder flies closer to them and revs her engine.
"Jazz, talk to them later, Tucker and Agents are done. Fentons are about to get Dannies down, so you need to either come up or leave the shield."
The girl - Jazz - looks surprised.
"Dan, too?"
"Yeah, it's the Toothy Jungle on the other side. They wanted to ask Ember, but, eh, what's her guitar gonna do to plants, even if they are sentient?" The red hoverboarder shrugs, and Jazz tilts her head, looking back to the heroes.
"I think I'll stay with them. You know it gets violent when Dan goes down, so people get antsy about us. I don't want to give the wrong impression."
The other girl huffs, but doesn't argue.
"Okay. Get out of the shield, then, and for Ancients sake, keep your comm open. Danny has an aneurysm every time you turn it off." With that, she flies away, back to the ship, and Jazz taps her hoverboard so it folds down into a hexagon shape no bigger than a backpack. Then, she steps through the shield, joining the JL on the other side of it.
"Are you not scared we might take you hostage?" Asks Wonder Woman just out of curiosity, and Jazz smiles pleasantly at her.
"Don't judge a girl by her looks. I don't want to brag, but I did fist fight Superman once and won."
----------
So basically, after Amity Park got sucked into Infinite Realms, the whole town just kind of collectively decided they like it there. And somehow they reached a happily ever after with both Danny's reveal to his parents and GIW, and then Clockwork showed up and was like, you guys want human food supply, running water and electricity, right? Well, I can do that, and so much more, you can be the ultimate perfect town. And for the price? You gonna go on adventures from time to time and fix the multiverse when shit hits the fan in various dimensions and universes. Doesn't that sound like fun?
And Amity Park, who's seen so much weird stuff over the years that it greatly affected their idea of common sense, goes yeah, that does sound fun! Let's go, people!
So here they are, appearing in different universes and doing damage control. They are, like, the superheroes for superheroes.
I'm probably going to write a part 2 to it, I want to show off Danny and Dan and Dani too. Halfas on the loose, JL is mildly concerned and kind of scared, and Jazz is just like yeah, that's just another regular Tuesday :)
I love Jazz being a badass, yes. Also, if you didn't get it, the other one on the hoverboard is Val, the drones are controlled by Tucker, and the people on the ropes are GIW agents.
| next -> |
1K notes · View notes
thekitsunesiren · 3 months
Text
Dc x DP #50: Accidentally Kidnapping a (ex) Crime Lord
(I've seen that reverse trope list, so I just had to do it. I might do more in the future. But for now, here's accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss in dc x dp format) Jason awoke with a low groan, slowly lifting his head as his eyes blinked to take in his location.
It had happened so quick. So quick that he couldn't even blink.
There was word going around Crime Alley of a new stray making their way around. Which wasn't new given that it's Crime Alley and Gotham altogether, but there was definitely something wrong with the kid.
Apparently everyone who met him got some odd vibe. Like there was something wrong with him. Many said that he was a meta on the run, but there were others that didn't believe that.
And when Jason found out he was in Crime Alley, it was like something cold walked through him. Like someone was walking over his grave. Figuratively and literally. Something bigger than him was in his territory. Something dangerous. And every bit of him said that it was the new kid.
So Jason set out to look for him. He wasn't going to let the others find out about this, not when it was on his turg. And perhaps if he could figure out what he was, perhaps ask why he calmed the pits in such a way.
He looked into the kid, a Daniel "Danny" Nightingale from the looks of it, and that he was only sixteen. No talk about any parents, but there was word of an older sister, Jasmine Nightingale, that was going to Gotham University to study psychology. But other than that? Nothing. Zilch. As if the two appeared out of nowhere. LIke ghosts.
So, Jason took to tracking him physically. Trying to figure out where he went and if he met with anyone in particular that might raise suspicion. Whether it be some other thugs or a some gang of some sort. But he had no such luck. Not because he wasn't meeting anyone, it was he always lost him. Every corner he turned, he was always gone when Jason walked around to follow him. It was like the kid was a ghost. Did he know that he was being followed?
It was late one night when Jason caught sight of Danny on his own, walking down the street with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Thinking that he was either going to meet someone or head home, he decided to trail him and see if he could finally fill another piece of this puzzle that was Nightingale.
Jason was right on his heels as he turned the corner leading to another street, ready to confront him. But once again, Nightingale was gone.
And before he could even curse or question as to where he could've gone so quickly, a heavy thunk was heard as something heavy hit the back of Jason's head. The last thing he saw before losing unconsciousness was a pair of worn sneakers as as the attacker approached him.
Which lead him to here: tied up in a worn down apartment. Nightingale standing across from him in what he supposed was a threatening manner. A baseball bat with a faded glowing green sticker on its base. Jason could make out the word 'Fenton' on it and made sure to look up that name later once he was out of this mess. But for now, he had to deal with NIghtingale.
Jason turned his attention to him, but with his helmet on he doubted Nightingale could tell whether his gaze shifted to his chosen weapon or not. But the slightest movement was enough to tell Nightingale that Jason was indeed awake from his unconscious state.
But before Jason could speak or make any comment about the situation, Nightingale beat him to it.
"What do you want with me?" He asked bluntly. It was one question that Jason wasn't expecting, so he stared at Nightingale confused.
"What?" Came the robotic reply of his voice filter. Apparently that wasn't the right answer as Nightingale let out a frustrated huff and waved his bat towards him.
"What do you want with me? You've been following me for some time and it's getting annoying? What are you? A thug? A goon? Or are you another rogue trying to make it big. Gotta say; not a good start just by stalking someone if you were."
His words had shocked Jason to his core for various reasons. One: he didn't know who Jason was. Two: apparently he was skilled in knowing when he was followed and Jason couldn't tell. And three: HE DIDN'T KNOW WHO JASON WAS!
Jason let out a dry laugh as he realized that he was serious about his questions. Nightingale has been here for months at least. So how did he not know about the notorious Red Hood? His reputation usually brought fear to those. It was strange for someone in Gotham not to know about him.
"Do you seriously not know who I am?" Jason asked, his eyebrow raised in a question even though his hood covered it, he was sure that Nightingale understood his confusion. His blue eyes shining in confusion as he tilted his head.
"No? Are you a rogue already? Ancients, they keep popping up every week." He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. And while Jason could agree to the sentiment, he needed to get to the bottom of Nightingale and what he was doing here. And whether or not he was a threat to Gotham, or at least Crime Alley.
"I wouldn't call myself a rogue. Not anymore at least. The name's Red Hood, kid." Jason answered gruffly, eyes still focused on Nightingale as he waited for his reaction.
Nightingale titled his head at the name. Recognition flashing his eyes as he heard it.
"Red Hood? But isn't that guy that runs crime alley? Why would that-"
His eyes widened in dawning horror, his already pale skin seeming to get paler as he came to a realization as he stared at Jason. More specifically, his hood.
Jason expected some panic. That perhaps Nightingale might even try to knock him out again or hightail it out of his apartment. But instead he just continued to stare at Jason in ever growing horror as he whispered,
"Oh Ancients, I just kidnapped a crime lord." Now, there was a lot that Jason wanted to unpack from this interaction, but for some reason the first thing that came out his mouth was-
"It's ex crime lord."
1K notes · View notes
russellsppttemplates · 6 months
Note
Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹
And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!
Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?
Note: you and me both, anon!
"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.
"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.
"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.
"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.
"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.
.
"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.
"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.
"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.
.
"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.
"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.
"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.
After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.
"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.
Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰
Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!
Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!
Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!
Adam: look at our little girl 😍
"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.
"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
1K notes · View notes
ceesimz · 2 months
Text
Reverie - Part 1
Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - Part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hey, I have some things to say before you start reading. ASD is a very vast spectrum, no two people with it experience the same stuff on a day-to-day basis. This story is written with my knowledge from people I know, and also from my own experiences living with autism too. So don't take this as 'the' perspective, this is a drop in the ocean and this most definitely isn't a handbook on autism. If anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, or ASD in general, you are more than welcome to message me or drop something in my inbox! This is just part one, if you like this first half of the story (because I have no idea how this will go down), let me know if you wanna see the second part, it's ready to go whenever.
Big big thanks to @copper-16 for editing it and leaving such lovely comments on it, I wouldn't have the confidence to post this if it wasn't for your words. Thank you for taking a chance on this story and opening yourself up to learn more, the world needs more people like you and we're all much better off that you're here🫶🏼🫶🏼
This is my favourite thing I've ever written, and I kinda feel like I'm giving away a piece of my heart by posting this (dramatic much), let me know what you think, hope you like it :)
“Are you ready to go in?”
Are you?
Are you ready to walk into a new setting, head held high, and show your teammates you are worth it? 
Or are you going to back out? Reverse right out the parking space, speed off to the airport, and catch a flight to god knows where?
That's simply not a possibility. Even if the thought of walking through those reception doors that stare tauntingly at you from across the car park perturbs you more than anything else, there's no backing out now.
Barcelona, the pride of Catalunya, the dominants of Europe, doesn't accept quitters. And that fact glares at you, along with all of its history and values held in the iconic badge that countless legends had adorned, and with it came a legacy you weren’t sure you had the strength to bare on your back. The new number nine, born and raised in Norway but made into the player you are now in Germany.
Here you were, after five years playing for Frankfurt, where you had grown accustomed to a comfortable routine with familiar faces and the same surroundings for so long, now in a new country that held so many unknowns. For someone with so many disadvantages ever present in their life, living in three different countries is a pretty impressive achievement.
Please, let it all be worth it.
After a few frustrating years in the Frauen-Bundesliga, you had signed for the best team in Europe and, arguably, the rest of the world too. Frankfurt had been a beautiful experience, one that had changed your life, but as a result of many, many long discussions with family and friends and psychologists, you had come to the terrifying realisation that it was time for a new challenge.
Why was that absolutely petrifying? Because you and life changes did not get along. Even after 26 years of living, it just wasn’t meant to be. But, such is life, and chances had to be taken.
You'd always be thankful for Frankfurt. Moving to play there was the first time you took such a huge leap of faith, and it had worked out well, eventually. In your eyes, the first season there was a disaster, but your mother would say it was the proudest year of her life. It had been difficult for her to see at times just how much you struggled at points, sure, but you made it to the light at the end of the tunnel and, by the end of it, you were a completely different person in the most incredible way possible. From then on, you continued to grow.
Yet, that was the thing with the German side. When you joined, they were a club with a legacy most teams would envy, but they never amounted to anything more during your time there. You fell in love with the staff, your teammates, and just about everything else during your time there. The only problem, which was pretty damn big in the grand scheme of things, was that you fell out of love with the football you were playing.
You were able to grow and survive at Frankfurt. You wanted to flourish and thrive at Barcelona.
Except, in comparison to the average human, there were a lot more obstacles ahead that could prevent you from accomplishing that aspiration. Over your life, you had overcome many bumps in the road, some leaving a harsh imprint on your self-worth and others hardly affecting you. For example, talking to the girl you were roomed with at 16 at the Norway Football Team camp had turned out to be one of the best things you could have done. Yet, in the same breath, playing for the national team had left you in a broken state, and as a result, you haven't played for them in a few years. 
The back and forth travel was too much, and opting out of playing for Norway, as much as it broke your heart that you weren’t strong enough to represent your country on the international stage, it allowed you to rest and recuperate so that you were at the top of your game for your club. Did you dream of wearing your country’s crest one day? Yes, all footballers did. But you weren’t in a place to do that, and you’re not sure you ever will be again.
Signing for Barcelona could be life-changing, but it could also be world-shattering in the worst way imaginable. This was a pretty sizable leap of faith, and the only way that faith could form into something incredible is if you made that happen. You, no one else. That thought filled you with both determination and crushing anxiety. This just could not be another failed attempt. There was no way you could come back.
Ultimately, it would have been downright psychopathic to turn down such an amazing offer from Barcelona. Two years playing for a club that's won three of the last four Champion's League finals? A team that had just completed the quadruple for the first time in their history? Yeah, nonsensical.
However, like always, there were a number of doubts that spiralled from those incredible stats. Did they need you? If they had a mostly flawless season, did they really need a 26 year old woman whose mind hardly functioned like every other person? Did they really need someone who couldn't even play for the national team anymore because they were too overwhelmed with their life? Did they need someone who needed their hand held through every life event, big or small? Did they-
“Hey, you ready?” 
That voice had some kind of magic to it. It was like clock-work, this always happened when she was around; that voice in your head consuming you with unwanted thoughts was erased as soon as you tore your eyes away from the doors and looked at the woman beside you. 
Ingrid. The one person that had single-handedly convinced you to come here. To Barcelona, playing in a hot country, with people you don’t know, speaking a language you can’t understand- oh my God, what have you done?!
“I… god, I don’t know.” You breathed out in a whisper, hardly intelligible. 
The world around you honed in on this one moment here, the peak of your career so far. Apart from Ingrid and the doors to the building and what was in store behind them, there was nothing else that could grasp your attention. There could be a blazing fire behind your car, a lion running full speed towards your car door, or a thief in the back seat for all you knew. Nothing else mattered. The two sides of your mind, the devil and angel on your shoulders were battling it out again, as they always were, whilst your hands fidgeted anxiously in your lap.
“You have to go in at some point, snuppa. You can’t stay in the car forever.” Ingrid softly reminded you, moving to take hold of your hand to comfort your stimming. “It will be a really good day, I promise. My years here so far have been the best of my life, everyone is so nice and welcoming. I never thought I could enjoy training as much as I do now. You will be fine, I have no doubts.”
“I’m not sure about that one.” You laughed nervously, eyes back on the building before you, now slightly glazed over and blurred. 
“I am certain about everything I just said.” Ingrid stated definitively, squeezing your hand. “Plus, not everyone in there are complete strangers. You have me, Mapi, you know Caro and you’ve met Jonatan and some other staff members. You know Loren, the team psychologist who you can go see any time you want. We’ll get you past this part of today, and then you have the whole afternoon to do whatever you’d like.”
You nodded at her words, desperately trying to remind yourself of them over and over so that they stick, and you can get through those damn doors. 
“You know how much easier my life would be if I knew how everything was going to play out?” You blurted out a moment later, Ingrid smiling in amusement. “It would be a breeze, Ingrid.”
“It would also make your life very boring, min skatt.”
“For you, it would be. For me, I'd live freely.”
Ingrid just laughed and shook her head, squeezing your hand once more before looking at the time on her watch.
“Come on. We have to do this one way or another, and I'm not letting you go in on your own. You want to make me late to training?” She teased, targeting your weak spot. Evil.
“That's cruel, Ingrid. So cruel.” You rolled your eyes but nevertheless stepped out of the car once you'd turned it off.
You didn't make it far though. Once you had gotten your kit bag from the boot of the car, you closed it and froze. Eyes unmoving from the daunting building in front of you.
“Would you like some company after training? We can stay at home, or go out for food, or do anything you'd like.” Ingrid offered, snapping you out of your anxious trance.
Even after… god, ten years now, you were still sometimes left dumb-founded by how well Ingrid knew you. A lot of the time, you yourself are in the dark about what you need, but your fellow Norwegian just gets it, even when you don't. It's pretty safe to say that your life, your whole career, would look a hell of a lot different if you had never met Ingrid.
If you put her characteristics into a different section when it comes to your favourite things about her, the thing you love most about the defender beside you is how she treats you. Sure, the majority of people treated you with respect and kindness, but the defender's love and care was on a whole other level. Like in this scenario now, when she knows you're too overwhelmed by the situation that confronts you to be able to think clearly. But here she is, giving you clear and thought-out options that off-kilt the tunnel vision you have on this one miniscule event, and now gives you something to look forward to. 
It reminds you that the world won't end if this training session doesn't go how you want it to, that life goes on afterwards. It makes the road clearer, the journey easier, and allows solace to be found in a down-right terrifying moment.
The funny thing is, however, is that your new home is actually Ingrid's home. No, you weren't living with her, but you were indeed staying in her apartment. She basically lived at Mapi's apartment anyway, so the second she caught wind of your transfer, she immediately offered her disregarded apartment up to you. It was a huge item checked off the ‘things that need doing after uprooting your entire settled, content, perfectly routine life’ to-do list, but you couldn't quite relish in the relief yet.
That's because, though it went unsaid, another factor of Ingrid's offer of letting you stay was so that, if all went wrong and you couldn't make a life for yourself in Barcelona, there was no tenancy to rip up and ultimately it would be a lot less hassle than if you had rented an entirely new place. Ingrid's excuse of not changing your name on the tenancy for now was so that you could settle in with as little stress as possible, but you knew the underlying meaning. Basically, it was a giant get out of jail free card.
“I think I would like that a lot, actually. Thanks.” You said to the taller girl next to you, whose arm had come to wrap around your shoulders.
“Perfect! María has some things to do but I'm free all afternoon, so we can figure something out. For now though, we have to train.” 
Taking in a deep breath, you nodded once more.
“That's all it is. Just training.” You told yourself, physically shaking the anxiety off of your chest and marching forwards. You got as far as those damn doors before you froze on the spot again. “Fuck, this is so scary.”
“I know it is.” Ingrid sympathised, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “We've got this though. It's just training, right?” 
“It's just training. And a few introductions. And about a million new people.” You sighed. “Will you stick with me the whole time?”
“Like glue, søster.” Ingrid said firmly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let's go.”
And just like that, you did walk into the building with your head held high, disregarding the burdening nerves and replacing them with a deep-rooted determination to prove you are worth it. Maybe your teammates would think otherwise if they knew the secret you were keeping from them, but for now, you would put up a front and act just like them. Your best bet at succeeding here is to fit in, and that's what you'll do. 
Ingrid wasn't impressed with this tactic of yours, not in the slightest. Jonatan and other senior staff members knew about you, Loren the psychologist knew about you, and Mapi knew. Besides that, everyone else was in the dark. There was only so long Ingrid could last before she had to tell someone at least, like Alexia or Irene or Marta, because she wanted the best for you and the best couldn't be given if your needs weren't catered for.
Like now, as she watched your whole face change in a split second as the mask came down so fast that, had she blinked a second later, she would have missed it entirely. The tension to the way you held your shoulders was all the evidence she needed that your whole nervous system was wracked with dread, and though she should expect it by now, it didn't stop the jab of sympathy she felt for you.
Of course she knew how difficult this would be for you, she just had really high hopes. Sometimes, even after all these years, it slipped her mind how much you still struggled with things. You'd gotten a lot better at dealing with various different circumstances and that mere fact could bring tears to her eyes if she thought about how far you had come, but moments like these were a snap back to the reality you still lived.
You lived so beautifully, you were so strong now, that your struggles were hardly visible anymore. Yet, when one knows a person for so long, they come to learn the signs. Ingrid knew you like the back of her hand. It still amazed her how quick you put the mask back up, normally being so care-free and light around her. But here, outside of the room everyone was due to meet in for the morning, a feigned smile on your face and a falsity to your posture signified all that Ingrid needed to know.
Even despite your dawdling in the car park, you and Ingrid were some of the first to arrive at the meeting, only a handful of unfamiliar faces scattered around the room. Jonatan looked up at the door upon your arrival and his face lit up, immediately dropping what he was doing to come and greet you with a beaming smile. He offers a gentle handshake, also being sure to speak in clear English so that your mind wasn’t overloaded more than it already was. All of it was reassuring, especially as he kept you off to the side as the room slowly began to fill up, before guiding you to the last chair on the front row beside Ingrid so that the meeting could start. Thankfully, to your relief, he gave you a short introduction to the rest of the squad, you only briefly turning and giving the room a general wave before allowing Jonatan to move onto more pressing matters.
From then on, you were rushed off your feet with introductions and training, all of which weren’t half as bad as you’d expected. During the short walk from the meeting to the changing room, a few others came along to properly greet you, all whilst Ingrid stayed close to your side. Mapi had also come bounding along after you the second you left the first room, Ingrid wincing at the excitement her girlfriend met you with but instantly that worry was erased as soon as you turned to Mapi with a matching overjoyed smile. 
By the time you actually got onto the pitch, you had spoken to almost all of the team already. And like Ingrid said, they were just as amazing as you had hoped they would be. Every single one, in their own ways, welcomed you to the team and made small talk with you for a few moments before letting whoever next came by to have their own chance at greeting you. But, it wasn’t until you were about to join in with the warm-up that the person you’d been most nervous about meeting came along.
Your new captain, Alexia. The powerhouse of the Barcelona team, the one you had to leave the best impression on.
A few days prior, amidst a conversation in the corner of Ingrid’s favourite cafe, you had sheepishly demanded that she give you a run-down of each and every single member of the team. There had been Ona, who Ingrid described as a lightning fast defender whose jestful clapbacks were even quicker than her sprint bursts on the pitch. Then Cata, the new number one goalkeeper whose cheek was sometimes too much for even the younger members of the team. Jana, a surefire future talent who was often found beside her quieter, more reserved but equally talented counterpart, Bruna. Patri and Pina were much the same, as were Vicky and Salma. Ingrid gave you a short but detailed profile of all of them, leaving the most important for last. Alexia, who initially came across as slightly cold due to the stoic, focused expression she usually wore. But, to her teammates and those closest to her, she was a world class leader, an even better player, and most importantly, a defiantly caring person with a personality that had more sides than a kaleidoscope. 
Upon hearing the exit door slamming shut, you turned your attention to the direction of the sound, only to be met with her. Casually strolling over, squinting in the face of the sun, she came over to you with a… a smile on her face?
“Hola! You must be the novota, nice to meet you.” She beamed, inviting you into a quick, polite hug before standing back. “Happy to be here?”
As always with new people, especially someone like the woman before you, you floundered internally for a moment, so many replies flitting around your mind with so little time to react.
“Y-yeah! Really happy to be here, thank you, Alexia.” You landed on, and judging by her reaction, it was the right thing to say. 
“Good, I am glad to hear that. Sorry I was not here for the meeting, you’ve met everybody already, sí?”
“Yes, Jonatan introduced me in the briefing.” 
“Good. Bueno, let’s get started. I am excited to be working with you.” The Spaniard smiled brightly once more, before gesturing loosely for the pair of you to join the rest of the group.
The rest of the day, as they say, is history.
It honestly went by in a blur, and if Ingrid was at all surprised by the way you literally fell into your bed when you arrived home, not surfacing from the newfound safe haven until about an hour later, she didn’t show it. This was Ingrid after all, and every quirk of yours, new or old, still brought a smile to her face. Ten years later and she couldn’t help but love you more each time she saw you.
The first week goes a lot smoother than you could have dreamed of to be honest - it’s only the start of preseason after all. But, there is still plenty of time for cracks to show. It only takes two days for all your progress to tear at the seams.
On the first day of your second week, you’re walking into training on your own for the first time since you joined. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? Wrong! Big fucking deal actually, because now it’s like walking blind, heading straight for what feels like danger. Unguided, no one by your side, only joined by the weight of an elephant seated right on your heart.
With the help of Ingrid of course, who else, you had established somewhat of a routine that made the transition so much easier. But it wasn’t quite clear until now, just how much easier it had made showing up to training everyday. Because, without your Norwegian counterpart who would be absent from training, you were left to show up all alone, and suddenly everything became ten times harder. 
Ingrid was more than just your friend, she was the one constant in this new life you lived that was always present. Anything you needed, one glance from you in her direction and she’d be with you in an instant. She, as stupid as it may seem, was the foundation of your routine, and now that she wasn’t here, all the hard work you’d made to settle in seemed to crumble under your feet. 
Three weeks of living in Barcelona, one week of training successfully completed, just for you to end up back at square one. And that meant you were trapped in your own body, limbs acting entirely on autopilot as your legs carried you over to those stupid doors that once again stood intimidatingly in front of you. Just like last week, except this time there was no one to coax you out of your shell, no one to mindlessly guide you over to one of the tables in the canteen, no one to walk you out onto the training pitch. You were all alone.
An unfortunate tactic hadn’t left your habits after all these years: avoidance. What better way to deal with something, then to not deal with it all, right? Right? 
Obviously, you couldn’t miss the whole day, you still had commitments and expectations you needed to live up to. If there was one thing that you couldn’t handle (apart from almost everything in this neurotypical world) it was letting people down, disappointing them.
So, if you opted out of breakfast for the day and beelined straight for the changing rooms instead, what business was it to anyone else? You were here, that’s all they could ask for. The plan was to get dressed into your training kit as fast as physically possible, before heading out onto the pitch for some time alone before everyone else came along. 
…Except, just as you were lacing up your boots, hand trembling at an embarrassing intensity as you did so, the door opened prematurely. And, really, out of everyone, did it have to be her?
“Oh. I did not expect anyone to be in here. Bon dia.” Alexia smiled at you, heading to her cubby just a few seats away from yours.
“Bon dia.” You muttered sheepishly, keeping your head down and tying your laces at a wildly uncontrolled speed. If Alexia noticed, she didn’t mention it. Thank god.
“I was just going to get some extra practice in, if you wanted to join me.” She offered, swapping her trainers for her boots since she was already in her training gear.
Great minds think alike..?
“Yeah, I was going to do the same thing. Thanks.”
“Ay, it's nothing. It's great that you're so hard working, you’re already fitting right in.” Sorry, could you say that again, or write it down even? “Ready?”
“What? Oh- sorry, yes, I’m ready.” You gave her a tight-lipped smile before slipping past where she stood in the doorway and heading towards the pitch.
“How are you feeling about your time here so far?” The captain asked kindly, the beating sound of boots clicking against the floor echoing far too long in your ears.
“Um, good. It’s an honour playing for this team, so.” You shrugged, offering an almost robotic, rehearsed answer.
“And what about how you actually feel? Not what you’re supposed to feel?” Alexia inquired lightly, an earnest and sympathetic look across her face. Slightly suspicious.
“Well… still good. It’s just different, isn’t it. Yeah.” You mumbled, cheeks flushing bright red as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest.
“Of course it is different. You were in Germany for five years, right?” You nodded affirmatively. “So it is a big, big change. I haven’t been anywhere else but here for twelve years, I cannot imagine adjusting to anywhere else.”
Oh, Ingrid. Seriously?
“I’m here though, I have to leave Germany behind.” You stated in a flat voice, honestly quite done with this topic but it’d be rude to voice so.
“If that is how you want to think, then do it like that. You have transitioned very well, we are all impressed.” Alexia shrugged with a soft smile, punching in the code for the storage cupboard and opening it soon after. “Grab the footballs, I will get some tiny goals. The others can get the rest when they’re done filling their faces.”
Thank god for that.
Alexia ended that conversation there, directing her focus on training from that moment on, much to your relief. All that you learnt from this day was that you needed to have a conversation with Ingrid. Your sixth sense was strong, even if to others it seemed like Alexia was just being an averagely kind person, you just knew. 
The good thing was, you couldn’t quite call that day a disaster. In the end, you got through it, even squeezing in a few jokes and laughs here and there throughout the day.
It’s the next day that the first incident occurred. It happened like this; Ingrid isn’t in again, you learn she’s got some kind of stomach virus, so you turn up once more on your own. This time, it wasn’t quite so scary, but like yesterday you skipped breakfast again. And just like yesterday, Alexia met you in the changing rooms to do some early practice again. Except, there was one fatal flaw to your routine this day. It came back and bit you in the ass pretty harshly.
“Ale, what are you doing after this?” Mapi wondered from your right as she stood up after Jona had ended training for the day.
“Eh, nothing.” She shrugged, going to ask you the same thing as she reached her hands out to help you up.
For all you knew, the Spanish pair you were sandwiched between could be speaking absolute gibberish, nothing was registering. As soon as you stood up, everything went hazy. And then… your vision had gone, your body felt unbelievably heavy, and had it not been for Alexia’s tight grip, you’d have fallen back there and then.
“Hey!” Alexia called out in concern, feeling you go limp in her hold. “Mapi, she’s fainting!”
“What!?” Mapi cried, immediately falling to her knees as Alexia safely guided you to the floor.
“I don’t know, she just collapsed!” 
Her voice dripped with worry as Mapi frantically looked around, only to find most people had headed inside already. Meanwhile, you were still awake, not totally out cold, but your eyes ached unbearably and you’d lost all control of your movements. Alexia’s hands flitted over your body, looking for any obvious problems but she couldn’t find any. She repeated your name over and over, only receiving somewhat of a whimper in reply.
“Mapi, go find someone, now!” Alexia demanded, the defender instantly rising to her feet and heading for the door. The captain turned back to you, her hands gently coming up to cradle your face where you lay on your side. “Hey, I need you to listen! Can you hear me?”
“Mhm.” You whined, providing the woman before you with an ounce of relief.
“What’s wrong? You need to tell me so we can help you, cariño, you just fainted on us.” She said frantically, her wide eyes boring into yours when you opened them.
Identifying the problem, even in your state, was quite simple. It was a common problem, something you were well versed with, though you rarely ever let it get this bad.
“Forgot to eat.” You mustered up your remaining strength, which really was very little, to answer her and quell her worries.
Thinking back to this moment in probably an hour’s time, you’d laugh at Alexia’s face when you said those three words, because she looked utterly perplexed.
“You forgot to eat?” Alexia repeated with a frown, but she couldn’t dwell on it much longer because Mapi came running over with the medical team hot on her tails.
“Is she awake?” The brunette woman asked desperately, opting out of kneeling back beside you so as to not overcrowd you.
“Yes, and she said she forgot to eat today?” Alexia looked up at her friend, refusing to shift out of the way and instead choosing to stick by your side. 
“Oh, that would explain it.” Mapi sighed in relief, only puzzling Alexia more. Was this… normal for you?
The medics fussed over you, asking you questions and ultimately overwhelming you way too much, something Mapi notices quickly.
“Oye, basta, slow down. Her blood sugar is low, she needs something quickly. Get her an energy gel.” Mapi commanded them, now joining you by your head and smiling her bright smile down at you, combing back some of your hair. “Hola preciosa, we'll get you back feeling better soon.” Just as she said that, a member of the medical staff pulled out one of the energy gels the team used for games. “Can you have this for me? It will make you feel better, I promise.”
With a nod, the people around you helped you to sit up as Mapi tore  open the gel packet, with Alexia still almost frozen in confusion. The defender noticed, grinning in amusement and quickly flicking her ear to bring her back down to earth.
“Ah! What's that for?” Alexia winced, watching on as Mapi shook her head and handed you the gel pack.
Your hand trembled as you raised it to your mouth, hardly possessing the strength to squeeze it enough to get anything out of it, but just as Mapi went to help you, Alexia got there first.
“It’s okay, here.” She does it for you, one hand on the packet and the other on your elbow that shakes under her hold. She seemed to be grounded now, knowing that it isn't the right moment to be wrapped up in her own thoughts when you're here in front of her, needing security and comfort whilst it takes a couple minutes to come back to yourself. “Easy with it. You'll feel better soon.”
And you did, literally no less than two minutes after having the energy gel, your nausea and dizziness and whatnot near enough disappeared. Though, your physical symptoms gave way for a barrage of anxiety, because this situation would consequently lead to an unwanted and challenging (but most likely necessary) conversation with Jonatan and the rest of the staff. They had also seen you, on the floor, near enough passed out, as a result of your own actions. You could only imagine the things they were thinking right now, and that unknown was scarier than the actual situation that had occurred beforehand.
“Feeling good now. Thanks everyone.” You said shyly, rising to your feet and avoiding everyone's gaze.
“You sure?” Alexia checked, giving you a look that tells you that you shouldn't even try to bullshit her.
“Well, a little bit… woozy, I guess. But much better than before, I swear.” You nodded, hating the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. 
“Let’s go inside, I’ll ask the catering staff to make up some food for you, if you want?” Mapi offered as her hand hovers against your back, not touching but guiding you back inside the main building.
“Okay.” You shrugged.
Meanwhile Alexia trailed behind, trying to figure out how, as captain, she could help this situation. It’s in her best interest to care for her team, and given what she had learnt, it was now clear that there was a lot more she could do than sit back and watch. She didn’t want to come across as overbearing, something Ingrid had warned her about, but she realised it was time to step in.
“Why don’t we go to one of the office rooms rather than the canteen?” She suggested just as Mapi went to open the door heading into said room. The defender should have thought of that sooner, but she’s glad her friend mentioned it, realising it’s most definitely the better option right now for you. 
You were taken to an empty office, followed into the room by Alexia and Mapi and some of the physios, and if they weren’t overcrowding you outside, they definitely were now. In all honesty, as much as you were grateful for their care, you wanted to burrow under your duvet in bed at home and not surface for probably about a week. You wanted to grab a tray of cookies, eat them whilst seated on the edge of your bed so you didn’t get crumbs everywhere, and crawl under the sheets safe in the darkness of the four walls you had struggled to leave the past two days.
But no, you were here, stuck in a reality that in no way felt real at all. What were you doing here? Sat at a round table, surrounded by medical staff chatting between themselves, not really bothered about your blip anymore, whilst two of Spain’s greatest players stand off to the side, both pairs of eyes trained solely on you.
You, a no-name off the back of an unsuccessful run in Germany that had just collapsed after training. Them, Champion’s League winners and well-established in the sport for years already, and decades to come.
“Preciosa?” Mapi appeared beside you suddenly, speaking softly as her hand fell on your shoulder. “Is it okay if I leave now? Ingrid is still sick at home, I promised I would get back to her as fast as I could. If you need me to stay, I can. They won’t keep you here for much longer, they’re just making sure you eat before you get back home.”
She should be with Ingrid, her girlfriend who is much worse off at home. Not with you, who simply made a foolish mistake and was now wasting everyone’s time.
“Go home.” You told her as your own hands squeezed anxiously at your upper arms where they sat crossed on the table.
“Okay.” Mapi smiled pitifully down at you, giving you a light forehead kiss before backing off. She pulled Alexia to the side, giving her a warning glare. “Look after her, for me and for Ingrid. Protect her, too. Don’t let them overwhelm her, she just wants to get home.”
“Sí. Of course.” Alexia replied firmly, a solid look in her eyes that Mapi knew to trust immediately. 
The defender slipped out of the room with no further fuss, leaving you alone with Alexia and the medical staff. Not for long, though.
“Guys, could you give us a moment? And can someone go collect her food from the canteen, please.” 
They nodded and stepped out of the room, Alexia closing the door softly behind them. She turned back to you, watching as you kept your head down and focused on the shapes you traced on the wood of the table. Your shoulders were visibly tense, so uptight they’re basically touching your ears, and she noticed just how intensely your leg was bouncing up and down.
“Do you need anyth-”
“Did Ingrid tell you?” You asked bluntly, gulping back the lump in your throat that really had no place making itself known at this moment - now was not the time for a meltdown. Save it for later, in the safety of your flat.
Alexia blew out a breath, coming over to perch on the edge of the desk a few seats away from you.
“If you’re talking about what I think you are, then… yes. She did tell me.” She answered cautiously, trying to gauge your reaction but you didn’t give her much, just a single nod. “She did it with the best intentions though. It wasn’t to… purposely go behind your back. She just wants the best for you, and the more people that know, the more support you can have here.”
“I guess.” You murmured under your breath, clearing your throat after and moving to rest your chin atop your arms.
“Why… why didn’t you want anybody to know?” The midfielder wondered in a soft tone, trying hard not to scare you off or go over the top. If she wants to help you and understand you, which she desperately does, this is the pathway she has to, albeit reluctantly, go down.
“Wanted people to get to know me, not a label.” You frowned, hastily wiping the tear that slips out with the frustration slowly bubbling inside of you. “Didn’t want to be a problem for anyone. Wanted to fit in.”
Just like that, it all clicked for Alexia.
The feigned smiles, sometimes forced laughter, the troubled look on your face whenever you thought you were alone, all of it adds up. You had repressed parts of you so that things went as smooth sailing as possible, so that people didn’t think any differently of you or immediately feel drawn away like they often did. The biggest part of you, what makes you you, is the one thing you didn’t want people to see, out of nothing but complete and all-consuming fear. And Alexia would be damned if she let you go on like this.
“Can I take a seat next to you?” She said quietly, a hint of a smile on her face when you nodded again. She did exactly that; without making too much noise in the still room, she pulled up the chair next to you and sat down, her eyes raking up and down your face.
“If I told you that I don’t think any differently of you at all, would you believe me?” She began with. 
You just shrugged dismissively, not having moved a single muscle in the past few minutes apart from breathing and blinking. If you don’t move, if you don’t draw attention to yourself, perhaps this whole thing will disappear. A girl can dream.
“Because I don’t, cariño. I really don’t. You are not a problem for any of us at all. You face different struggles than us, but nobody thinks of you as anything less than a great player and an even better person. We are all glad you are here. I and others on the team will face different struggles than you, and I can bet you would never think any differently of us. Am I right?” 
Her words break through the defensive wall you’d put up to protect yourself from anything else around you. A common feature of the start of your meltdowns, except it’s quite possible that your captain had just stopped it from going any further.
Hesitantly, you sat up from your slouched position and wiped tiredly at your face.
“No, I would never.” You told her, slumping back against your chair and fiddling with the drawstring on your shorts.
“Exactly. You don’t need to worry about any of that at all, I promise. You are one of us now. A culer. We will take care of you.” She smiled brightly, you can hear it in her voice. So for the first time since you’d entered the room, you turned to look at her, only to find her eyes were filled with earnesty and kindness. And… perhaps for the first time since you’d arrived in Barcelona, you truly did feel like you belong here. Like you could make a life for yourself here, against all odds.
“Thanks.” You sniffled, feeling the remnants of your outburst fade away, only to leave overwhelming exhaustion in its wake.
“It’s okay. You can come to me anytime for anything. There will always be someone here for you to talk to, and I’ll be the first to fight for you if that’s ever necessary.” Now, you were actually smiling. A genuine one, too.
“I think Ingrid might beat you to it, actually.” You teased her, watching as she grins.
“You’re probably right.” She chuckled, before pausing. You already knew what she was about to say before she opened her mouth. Neurotypicals are just way too predictable. “How did you know Ingrid told me?”
“You can just tell when someone knows. They treat you differently.” Alexia frowned anxiously at that.
“I didn’t… did I treat you differently?” She questioned, along with a poor attempt at disguising the undertones of fear in her voice.
“You haven’t, not really, but… I don’t know, I can just tell instantly. It’s hard to explain. You haven’t treated me differently, but I could tell you knew compared to when you didn’t know. The look on your face too. But thank you for… just everything so far. You have helped a lot, so.” You shrugged. She smiled, a little in relief, but nodded nevertheless.
“You don’t need to thank me. Now, can I ask some more about what happened today? You said you forgot to eat?” 
“Yeah. It’s just because my routine was messed up, that’s all. Yesterday morning I ate before training because Ingrid had baked me some pastries, but today I had none left and then genuinely forgot. It happens sometimes, it’s just part of it.”
“Part of what?”
“Autism.” Duh.
“Oh. I did not know that.” Alexia stated simply. 
“Yeah, well, most people don’t.” You told her. Alexia nodded understandingly, a plan of action already formed in her mind.
“I’m sure you already know this, as an athlete, but it’s important for your safety that this doesn’t happen again. So I have a solution in mind that could help.” You hummed to tell her to continue. “I can ask either the catering staff here, or find a private chef, to start meal prepping for you. We can organise it on the club’s behalf so that you don’t have to pay anything. I will go with you, or for you if you’d like, to Jonatan and help sort it out for you. You can meet with a nutritionist to figure out what food you need and tell them what you do and don’t like, we can sort it all out for you. It wouldn’t be a problem.” 
Oh. You’d never thought about that before. 
“I guess that could work.” You decided after a few moments of consideration. 
That would actually be a really helpful solution. Certainly one less thing to worry about, and it could add a secure layer to your routine. An important one too.
“Would you be okay with that?” Alexia wondered, smiling when you nodded. “Good. Leave it to me, I will get it sorted for you.” 
She paused again, clearly hesitant about something. You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to coax it out of her with a look, but you couldn’t help the amused smile on your face at the sudden, faint blush that landed on her cheeks.
“What is it?” 
“Uh… there is no way to ask this without coming across as… very forward, to say the least.” She started, shaking her head at her own ridiculousness. “May I get your number? For captain’s reasons, of course.”
“Right.” You smirked, watching as she shakes her head, this time at your teasing, and grabs a pen from the stationary pot in the centre of the table. “And what shall I write it on?”
“Well… just use my hand, I guess.” She suggested, offering the back of her hand out for you. You grinned and gently took hold of it, jotting down your number for her. 
“There you go, Capi.” You smiled, clicking the pen and putting it back.
Not long after that, one of the staff members came in with the food Alexia and Mapi had organised for you. So, leaving your captain with a promise that you'll eat it the second you walked through your apartment door, you went home. It was a great meal, and if it'd be the catering staff at Barcelona that would do your meal prep, well, it'd be a great deal.
That night went just like the others; you relaxed for some time to decompress after training, until you eventually started feeling somewhat human again, and arose from bed to do one of any of your hobbies that you felt like doing that night. Reading, watching movies, drawing and painting, listening to music, or any others that pique your interest that night. 
On some occasions, you'll be so mentally exhausted from your day that none of them seem at all appealing, and it takes a lengthy period of time to feel yourself again. An hour, the rest of the evening, or sometimes even the whole week. After especially hard times, it could take weeks. Fortunately you hadn't been through such events in years, but the fear of falling into that hole ever again was always present in the back of your mind.
The thing about having this disorder is that some things never change. Most things never change. You learn to cope, you can heal from past experiences, but in the grand scheme of it all, things never change. Certain events, people, even words can still be triggers. No amount of therapy or coping mechanisms or whatever, can help. You were born this way, and you would die this way. 
You would live a life and still struggle with even the most mundane things. Washing dishes was a no-go, the sensory issues were way too intense for that one. A day without showering first thing in the morning was automatically a write off. Bad performances in matches could still lead to a meltdown on certain days. One wrong look from someone can send you spiralling.
Autism was a blessing and a curse. It made you who you are; you have no idea who you would be without it. Yet, at the same time, it could debilitate you to such extreme degrees that… at night, when you were alone under the disguise of darkness,  you can't help but wonder what you could have done with your life had you not been born with this burden.
And with the day you'd had already, well, the only way you'd learnt to get over these things were to move on from them. That's what you had to do. If you become too concentrated on them, analysed every detail that went wrong, thought about every opinion those who witnessed it could hold, you'd suffer for it more than you needed to.
You couldn't move on if others couldn't move on though.
Unknown: Did you get home safe?
There was most likely only one person it could be, but where's the fun in that?
You: Depends who I'm talking to…
Alexia: It's Alexia??
Too easy.
You: I knew it was you, dumbass. Yes I got home safe, thank you. Food was great too :)
Although, when a few minutes went by after that last text, the doubts came flooding in. Did you take it too far with her? It was a bit ballsy to say that, she's just checking in on you. Captain duties.
Then again, who was it calling you?
“Hello?” You frowned, and this was another instance where you're cursing yourself, because why was your heart racing and cheeks burning at one random phone call?
“Dumbass, huh?” Came a smug voice, and then your heart was racing for another, more light-hearted reason.
“Yeah, sorry about that… apparently I'm a bit of a keyboard warrior.” You blushed sheepishly, relieved beyond belief when the woman down the line laughed.
“Don't worry about it. You're feeling okay now, sí?” 
“Yes, fine. You know, I didn't plan for today to happen. It just did.” You mumbled, still embarrassed by it all.
“I know, no one blames you for it. I just wanted to check in with you.” 
“I'm good, thanks. I've only ever had that happen like once before, I guess training on an empty stomach isn't the greatest idea in the world.” You joked lightly, Alexia humming in agreement.
“How does it happen? You said your routine was messed up, how did that lead to you forgetting?”
“It's a long story.” You sighed, but Alexia doesn't care.
“I have a free evening.” She said simply. This woman.
“Well… every training session so far, Ingrid has met me in the morning at my apartment beforehand so we can travel in together. She normally checks in with me, asks how I'm feeling and if I've eaten and whatnot. But she was ill, which I obviously don't blame her for, by the way. So not having her with me these past two days has terrified me quite a bit. She's basically the thing that holds my whole morning routine together. I guess, because she wasn't there, everything just flew out the window.” You explained, but things still weren't quite adding up in Alexia’s mind.
“So how does that relate to you forgetting to eat? Do you not get hungry?”
“Not like normal people do. One of the things with autism is that… we're not really in tune with our bodies? Like, I don't often get hungry or thirsty, I have to force myself to remember to eat and drink. And when I don't, I only realise I haven't done either of the two when I start feeling ill, like today. But food and drink feel like a chore, which is another reason I forget too. It's different when it comes to football though, being an athlete has taught me to be in tune with my body in terms of injuries, but not for anything else. It's weird.” 
“Wow, I never knew that before. That's interesting.” She commented. She's got a lot to learn.
“I prefer… inconvenient.” You said with a shy smile, glad to hear Alexia chuckle at that.
Unexpectedly, for quite some time after that, the pair of you just… talked. A lot. Like, for an hour. About everything - from what pastries Ingrid baked you, to a few more facts about yourself and your ASD, and everything in between. 
It's unnervingly natural. Fun too, but also a little odd. Is she doing it out of pity, or..?
“I almost forgot the other reason I called you.” She said out of nowhere, the smile on her face audible once again. “We have our pre-season dinner this Friday, the whole team is going. You should come.”
A dinner? At a restaurant? Oh god.
“Oh, I… it sounds good, but I don’t know, I-”
“Hey, why not?” She questioned gently.
“Just, they’re not really my scene.”
In a split second, Alexia attempted to think back on all she knew about anxiety to combine it with the very little information she knew about autism, hoping the two overlapped somewhat. Luckily for her, they do.
“The club rents out the restaurant so it’ll just be the team and a few senior staff members. It shouldn’t be too loud. It’s more like a celebratory dinner before the season starts, so there's no partying or anything like that at all. I really hope you come, but I understand if not. There’s no pressure.”
Damn you, Alexia.
“Okay. Okay, I'll go.”
Normal order resumed for the rest of the week; Ingrid recovered from her short 48-hour bug and returned to training like she hadn't even had a day off. Her being back also meant your mind was a hell of a lot more at ease, even if Alexia had offered to see you every morning. 
There was one other thing you were blessed with: obliviousness. Because, during the car ride to training the day after your phone call with the captain, the smirk that Mapi greeted you with in the rearview mirror after you tell her what happened once she headed home, is definitely not confusing at all. Definitely not.
That smirk made a comeback far sooner than you'd like. 
“Say that again?” Mapi asked with a squint to her eyes, forcing down the laughter she so desperately wants to let out.
“Alexia is driving me to the team dinner.” You repeated the sentence you'd just said for her, looking to Ingrid for help. “Ingrid, tell her to behave please.”
“María, come on. Alexia is just doing her a favour, you know she's not a fan of driving.” Ingrid said whilst nudging her girlfriend, though secretly she's hiding some intense excitement levels under her very good poker-face.
“Exactly! Screw you, Mapi.” You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you put your earrings in.
“So you're sure you don't need us to drive you there?” Mapi asked suspiciously, and there was that stupid smirk again. 
“Ugh, yes! I am making friends, you should be happy!” You groaned, fixing the shorter defender with a dagger-like glare in the reflection.
“More than fr-”
“Okay! Are you ready, snuppa? When is Alexia coming?” Ingrid interjected, discreetly stomping on her girlfriend's foot.
“She's on her way, she'll be here any minute now.” You answered after checking your phone. “You know, I can't rely on you guys forever like you're my parents or something. I love you, but I don't love you that much. And I'm sure you feel the same.”
“No!” Ingrid cried out in a way that's entirely too theatrical. She came over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I do love you that much, it's María you need to worry about.”
“I do worry about her sometimes. You should too, Ingrid.” You murmured, Ingrid humming in agreement as you watched her Spanish counterpart… busy herself in your fridge?
“María, out of there! We are literally going for dinner right now!”
“Ingrid, princesa, you need to work on your English- we're not at dinner ‘right now’, that is why I am in the fridge.” 
“Guys! Alexia is here, let's go. I'll see you at the restaurant.” You kissed Ingrid’s cheek and flicked Mapi’s forehead as you ushered them out the door, locking it behind you and making your way down to the ground floor.
Alexia was there, waiting for you whilst leaning against her car, and a smile tugged at her lips the second she saw you. You heard some commotion behind you, most likely Mapi being scolded by Ingrid, but you shut it out as you headed over to the midfielder, fighting back a ridiculously cheesy grin.
She greeted you the same way she did on the first day she met you - enveloping you in a warm hug that really shouldn’t be as comforting as it was. Not a big deal. Regardless, you both clambered into the car and made your way to the restaurant.
Thankfully, the evening went surprisingly well. It was a very low-key evening, just like Alexia said. In fact, you might even go as far as to say you enjoyed it, that’s a welcome revelation. And it seems you weren’t the only one that had discovered something new.
“Can I ask you something?” Alexia said on the drive back to your apartment.
“Sounds like there’s no stopping you.” You replied, smiling when she teasingly rolled her eyes.
“At dinner, when Patri asked why you don’t drink, you said ‘long story short, I don’t like it’ so I was just wondering what you meant by that?” Alexia asked, before almost immediately regretting it. “I mean, you don’t have to answer, it’s your business, but… if there’s anything we should be mindful about, then let me know.”
Who needed alcohol when you had a tendency to lose your inhibitions whenever you got too exhausted?
“No, not really any problems. I don’t have any issues with people drinking around me, I just have a bit of a history with it but it’s nothing big. It’s fine.” You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes open as the streets of Barcelona passed by your window. 
“What… what happened?” Alexia pressed gently.
“Well, when I was about seventeen, I started going through a really hard time. I had just dropped out of school, I’d had some trouble with friends, I was basically struggling quite badly. I started partying and drinking a lot, way more than I should have. Then I began to rely on it too much, just to get me through really basic stuff. It made me feel normal, it got rid of the voice in my head and it made me feel like a functioning person of society because it was what everybody else did. One day I decided it was best that I don’t drink at all, and it’s easier to tell people I don’t like it but actually I’m just scared of drinking because of all it reminds me of. So, I avoid it.” You explained, rather nonchalantly. 
The mental exhaustion was hitting hard that night, it was evident in the way you spoke. There was one explanation; dissociation. Dinners were not your favourite things in the world, they were a challenge to get through even when you were in the best company. Small talk, food, the sound of people eating, the scrapes of cutlery against ceramic, and the attention on some occasions being entirely on you? Yeah, a big no go. Which is why you were so tired, so distant, because your mind was in protection mode to keep you running until you got home.
Talking about your past was difficult, you’d come a long way and it felt counter-intuitive to talk about the bad times when you’d worked so hard to come to a good place. Yet, here you were, baring your soul about a topic you normally kept to yourself. You don’t even feel at least a little bit anxious at the fact you’d just spilled that secret. Alexia takes all the concern you normally feel and keeps it for herself.
“I’m sorry you went through that, cariño. Thank you for telling me.” She smiled sadly over at you, an ache growing in her heart at your defeated demeanour where you sit in her passenger seat. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”
“Tired. So tired.” You sighed. Even just talking felt like a chore in that moment. “Wanna get home, s’all.”
“Okay, we’re almost there now.” She said, “I’m proud of you for coming today. I know you weren’t a fan of the idea initially but you came, and everybody was so glad that you did. I am really proud of you, and so are Ingrid and Mapi too.”
The woman to your left surprised you everyday with each act of kindness she was showing. She hardly knew you, she hardly knew of your struggles, but she was adamant to learn and show just how deeply she cared. You were beyond grateful for her and all she’d said and done, even if you couldn’t verbalise that just yet.
All you could do was offer a simple nod, almost entirely mute as a result of how utterly overstimulating the day had been. You had loved it, sure, but sometimes when days like today left you in such a dejected state that you could hardly talk, there were still times if you wondered if fighting for a somewhat normal life was worth it. 
From then on, the rest of the drive home was silent. Alexia dropped you off, made sure you knew to contact her or Ingrid or whoever you felt comfortable speaking to should you need them, and that was that. You got inside, were barely able to get yourself changed, before passing out as soon as you got into bed.
A few weeks went by and it was more of the same. After that dinner, the team really clamped down and focused on getting everybody ready for the start of the new season. Training at Barcelona was different to anything you’d ever experienced before; it was intense, but light-hearted. There was competition, but it was healthy, everybody egged each other on even if they wanted to win. Ingrid was right, you had never found training this enjoyable before. You had to put that down to the people though, if it wasn’t for them then you’d never feel as comfortable as you do now. 
There were blips, there were still obstacles, but apart from that time you fell ill after training , there hadn’t really been any meltdown-inducing moments. Just a lot of burn-out and exhaustion, but you were near enough a pro at dealing with that now. 
The environment was… perfect for you. And one factor of that outcome is definitely down to the help of the famous three you had near enough attached yourself to since your arrival.
But the main factor to how well you had settled in was down to you. At some point along the way, not that the exact date mattered or anything (at exactly 12:02 on Monday the 26th of August), you hit a milestone that you had never managed to reach before. 
It was unplanned, but once the initial shock had worn off and the anxiety left, you teared up in the arms of Ingrid at the pride you felt towards yourself. Then Mapi joined in with the hug, and so did Alexia, then… so did the whole team too. 
For the first time, you were honest with your team. For the first time, you told them that you had autism. And for the first time, you weren’t suffocated by that prospect. When they all came together to hug you, it wasn’t just a physical embrace, it was them fully accepting you even with this burden you held and championed every day of your life. Though, with the support of others, it was hard to think of it as a burden. The gravity of a secret this big had weighed you down for years, but… now, your chest had never felt so light.
They supported you when you arrived, but the extremes this Spanish team took didn’t quite register until the week before the first game of the Liga F season. Fortunately for you, the first game of the season was at your new home of football, the Estadi Johan Cruyff. So, to help settle the rising nerves you were feeling as game day got closer, the club had organised a training session for you at the stadium a few days before. The more familiar you were with your surroundings, the less you had to worry about on the day. And, as everybody knew, the only thing you needed to worry about for your debut would be how well you did on the pitch.
What you didn’t know though, was that every member of your team was waiting in the stands for you to walk out. And the second the sound of boots hitting the floor echoed from the tunnel through the empty stadium, Mapi was up on her feet to cheer and encouraged her teammates to do the same. The only person that hesitated was Ingrid, but when she saw the look on your face as your te- your friends outwardly rallied behind you so openly and so freely, she became the loudest one of them all. That was the perfect way to prepare for game day, you really couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to work with everyday.
Were you jittery and wracked with nerves as you waited on the sidelines to be substituted in at the 70 minute mark? Yes, but the second you took your first step on the grass with the crowd’s applause as your welcome, you fixated on the game and everything else was just background noise. 
From a young age, before you had even heard of the word autism, football had very obviously been your special interest, otherwise known as the one random topic out of everything in the world to take over your life. 
You would spend hours in your backyard, kicking a ball against the side of your house, driving your family crazy. The walls of your bedroom were covered, corner to corner, in posters ranging from your favourite players, to clubs from all over the world. Christmases and birthdays as a kid were, to you, all about what from your presents you could add to your collection. Kits, boots, scarves, match-day programmes, magazines, even trading cards. Back at your childhood home in Norway, all these things were stored away in the attic, still items you cherished. 
As you got older and life got a bit more difficult, football became your escape. School was exhausting, people were exhausting, but football was something you could do on your own. No one bothering you, no one expecting anything from you, it was a time you could forget the world and all its misdemeanours, and just relax. And honestly, that’s all you planned for it to be. It was hard to imagine it being anything else than just a hobby.
All it took was one game to change the whole trajectory of your life. A game of girls against boys at your school at the age of only eleven, and the next day your sports teacher had gotten you a trial at the local academy. You passed it with flying colours, and flourished in the sport from there.
…Until one random day when you were fourteen, your mother sat you down for a conversation you never could have expected. But once you'd had time to dwell on her words, everything made sense. 
You had autism spectrum disorder. 
It wasn’t made official until the assessment process was over and you received your diagnosis, but that was the day it felt like your life had been irreversibly changed. Your view of the world changed with one conversation, and it was as if everything you thought you knew was wiped completely. Like you had been thrown into the ocean with no one and nothing around to help. 
All the tantrums, the bad behaviour at home compared to being a model student at school, the fussy eating habits, and the endless list of out-of-the-norm habits you had - it added up to this one, new label. The tantrums became meltdowns, the reasoning behind your behavioural differences were from spending the whole day surrounded by people and masking to fit in which led to you being so overwhelmed and overstimulated, your mind went into overdrive and didn’t know what to do. The fussy eating turned out to be sensory issues, with the textures and tastes of certain foods making you physically ill.
There was so much to learn that some days it felt like too big a challenge to tackle. Then there would be the days where you were up all night, the light of your family laptop kept hidden under the blanket you draped over yourself, as you researched this life-changing disorder until the sun rose.
It’s funny, really, how quickly your life can change with just three words.
For years, you had been defeated by it, succumbing to the assumptions that you could never amount to anything more than the label forced upon you, but look at you now. Providing a world class through ball to the most recent Ballon D’Or recipient to tie off a 3-0 win in the first game of the season.
You had learnt at some point in the last twelve years that the only choice you had was to live with it. Make the most of it. This was your one life, you had to make it work. You were adamant to thrive for the others that couldn’t, for the 1 in 13 women that didn’t believe they were strong enough to fight back, and to prove to the world that this disorder didn't hold you back.
They wouldn’t know that your mind could be your own worst enemy, or the self-deprecating thoughts you could have whilst your face gave away no hints, or that sometimes you didn’t believe in yourself and the anxiety was so intense that you could be stuck in bed for days, even weeks, at a time. All they saw right now was your team, FC Barcelona, rushing over to celebrate you rather than the goal scorer because they knew what it meant to you. The world would only ever see your victories, because they had no business to strike you when you were already down. You were strong, you were worth it, and most importantly, you had done it. You’d made it to the exact point you dreamed of. That’s all that mattered.
Unfortunately, it only takes one bad thing to set you down an unwanted path.
Part 2
707 notes · View notes
allfearstofallto · 21 days
Text
Bathing Together
Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
TW: 18+ MDNI, Yandere themes
Tumblr media
It's tradition in Inazuman culture for family and spouses to bathe together, as Scaramouche would tell you. Washing each other's bodies is a sign of affection, respect, and most importantly, trust. Scaramouche wants to trust you. He believes that all good relationships are built up on trust. But he trusts no one, therefore he's never had a good relationship. Not even with you, the person he loves most. That's obviously something he desires to change.
He's allowed you to bathe alone long enough, giving you the space that was recommended by his peers, but he's grown frustrated. Needy even. Desperate for even more of your attention. As if he couldn't monopolize enough of your time already, seeing him during your meals and when you were trying to sleep wasn't enough apparently, he wanted to be present for your baths as well. And not just present, active in them.
He assured you that nothing sexual was going to happen, but you trusted Scaramouche as much as you trusted a frail rope to hold your body. But just like that rope, hanging you over the side of the cliff, you had no choice in whether or not it let you live. You were just waiting for the day it would finally snap and kill you.
So, he bathed with you.
Awkwardly, of course.
You always knew that Scaramouche was not human, but the feeling was mostly subconscious. It was small things like how little he slept or the small amounts he ate, but nothing was concrete. He never told you what he was, it was hard to get him to tell you anything, but it was something that itched in the back of your mind. A kind of uncanniness about him, the way his seemed too perfect, too symmetrical, his beauty so processed and mechanical. His body was no different. Completely hairless from head to toe and thin as well, but as pale as snow or paper, like there was no blood circulating within him.
"Must you stare?" He questioned, his voice holding traces of that bitter annoyance he always expressed, and you looked away.
Sitting on the stool you scrubbed yourself, your arms and chest, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact with him. Much to your surprise, Scaramouche genuinely didn't touch you with longing hands. Rather, he cleaned himself next to you, fully eyes focused on his task at hand, before he stood and walked behind you.
There was no chance to ask him what he was doing, his thin fingers holding a soapy rag were against your back. Not groping you, a thought that made you breathe a sigh of relief, but scrubbing you. You didn't ask him to do such a thing and definitely didn't imply that you wanted the help, but he did so anyways. His hands were firm, but gentle. Pressing down hard enough to clean you, but not enough to hurt.
"Wash mine now," he muttered after pouring warm water down your back.
It wasn't any less tense when you were behind him. Hands on his pale skin, you barely touched him when you cleaned his back. He was warm to the touch though, with a particularly marking on the nape of his neck. Scaramouche didn't register as the type of person who had tattoos, or even enjoyed the process. Yet when you tried to get a closer look, he spoke.
"If you're curious about it, then ask. I've told you about your staring," his voice rung out against the walls of the bathroom, echoing into your ears through the silence.
"No questions, my lord," you stammered, "I was just looking."
You too poured water down his back, signalling that you were finished and he stood, seemingly completely unfazed by his own nudity. His hand was on your wrist, making you follow him into the tub, where the water was steaming and hot to the touch.
You dipped your toe into it to test the heat, then sank into the tub. He sat right next to you, breathing out a sigh that sounded like relieving stress. For a while the two of you say in complete silence, where he looked off into the distance, like he as pondering something.
"You didn't try to kill me," he remarked, a little too nonchalantly for your liking.
"Of course not," you spat back. But that didn't mean that the thought didn't cross your mind. Although, the thought of wringing your hands around his neck and watching the life leave his body was something you always considered, but never acted on.
"You've exceeded my expectations of you then,"
Tumblr media
498 notes · View notes