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roturo · 4 months ago

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SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience. Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

#l lawliet smut #l lawliet #l smut #l death note #death note #death note anime #death note smut #light yagami #light yagami smut #ryuzaki #l lawliet x you #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet fanart

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ceesimz · 4 months ago

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Reverie - Part 1

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - Part 2

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

#woso x reader #fcb femení #fcb femeni #fcb femení x reader #alexia putellas x reader #ingrid engen #mapi león #fridolina rolfö #barcelona femeni #barcelona femení #barcelona femeni x reader

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pampushky · 1 month ago

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My Name is Brutus (And My Name Means Heavy)

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader

The legacy of your grandfather comes with a heavy crown, one partially melted and reformed in flames that should have killed him. Akin to the fire that should have killed you but took your mother instead, leaving you with the same scars that Niki Lauda wouldn’t wish on another, least of all his own grandchild. Yet here you stand, drawing the ire of McLaren’s golden boy, with a twisted crown of his own to wear as you throw everything he was used to to the flames. You force him to adapt overnight when you join the team suddenly after an unknown incident that sends you sprawling as you try to cope with the sudden change in team. You terrify him. And he terrifies you. And somewhere, James Hunt is cackling that Niki Lauda’s child is frighteningly similar to him.

masterlist | ask about the series | A/B/O Stuff

I. ive been watching him for my entire life II. I hate the air he breathes his foolish decrees III. his words so contrived (Oct. 20th)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader

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sailorgoon13 · 6 months ago

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Mattheo Riddle

Basics:

Full Name: Mattheo Riddle

Nickname: Matt, Matty

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 31 December, 1979

Heritage: English

Blood Status: Half- Blood

Wand: Yew, Dragon Heartstring, 13", Flexible

Appearance:

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Dark brown, almost black in some lighting

Skin Tone: Fair. Porcelain like

Height: 6'2"

Body Type: Lean, Athletic

Style: Mix of sophisticated and modern comfort. Tailored joggers, designer hoodies, and sleek leather jackets for a look that's both stylish and comfortable. His wardrobe is filled with premium basics like fitted T-shirts, cashmere sweaters, and designer sneakers.

Features: Intense gaze, Chiseled Jawline, Athletic build, Confident demeanor, Dark Aura, Magnetic Charm, Style, Always smoking a cigarette

Personality:

Traits: Ambitious, Intelligence, Charisma, Protective, Independant

Likes: Reading, Hanging out with friends, Causing Mischief,

Dislikes: Incompetence, Weakness, Conformity, Modesty

Hobbies: Quidditch, Dueling, Learning thing outside of the school curriculum, drawing

Fears: His father, Failure, Loss of control, Betrayal

Family and Friends:

Father: Tom Riddle Jr.

Known as Voldemort/ Dark Lord

Imprisoned on maximum security in Azkaban

Mother: Unknown

Was a follower of the Dark Lords

Died in childbirth

Friends: Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Enzo Berkshire

Magic:

Special Abilities: Natural aptitude to the Dark Arts, Parseltongue

Boggart: A dark version of himself

Patronus: Raven

Polyjuice: It might appear as a deep shade of burgundy or midnight blue. It would have a complex taste of rich spices like cinnamon and clove with a bitterness of black coffee

Amortentia: Old books, fresh pine and smoke

Backstory:

Mattheo Riddle was born on a cold winter's night in December 1979, the only child of Tom Riddle Jr., better known as the infamous Dark Lord Voldemort, and an unnamed witch who was a devoted follower of the Dark Arts. Mattheo's mother died in childbirth, leaving him orphaned from the moment he drew his first breath. Raised by other followers of his father, Mattheo grew up surrounded by darkness and secrecy, his childhood steeped in the shadows of his family's dark legacy.

From a young age, Mattheo exhibited a keen intellect and a thirst for knowledge that surpassed his years. Despite his upbringing among dark wizards and witches, he was drawn to the complexities of magic and the mysteries of the wizarding world. He devoured books on ancient spells, studied the intricacies of potion-making, and honed his magical skills with a diligence and determination that belied his tender age.

As Mattheo grew older, he began to chafe against the constraints of his family's legacy, yearning to carve out his own path in the world beyond the shadows of his father's name. When he received his letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven, it was both a moment of triumph and trepidation. He knew that Hogwarts would be his chance to escape the dark influences that had surrounded him since birth, but he also feared the expectations that would follow him wherever he went.

At Hogwarts, Mattheo quickly distinguished himself as a student of exceptional talent and ambition. He excelled in his studies, earning top marks in every subject and mastering spells that left even his professors in awe. He became known for his sharp wit, his confident demeanor, and his ability to effortlessly navigate the complexities of wizarding society. Despite his aloof exterior, he formed close bonds with a select group of friends, including Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Enzo Berkshire, forming a tight-knit circle that would become the envy of the school.

Outside of the classroom, Mattheo's reputation as a Quidditch prodigy preceded him. He was a natural on the broomstick, with a skill and agility that made him a formidable opponent on the Quidditch pitch. He led the Slytherin Quidditch team to victory after victory, earning accolades and admiration from his peers and cementing his status as one of Hogwarts' most celebrated athletes.

Despite his success and popularity, Mattheo struggled with the weight of his family's legacy and the expectations that came with bearing the name of Voldemort. He grappled with questions of identity and morality, torn between the darkness of his heritage and the light that flickered within him. He yearned to break free from the shadows that had haunted him since birth, but he knew that the legacy of his father would always loom large over his life.

As he approached his final year at Hogwarts, Mattheo stood at a crossroads, torn between the past that defined him and the future that beckoned with promise. With graduation looming on the horizon, he knew that he would soon have to make a choice that would shape the course of his destiny. But for now, he would continue to walk the fine line between light and darkness, navigating the complexities of his heritage with courage and conviction, determined to forge his own path in a world that sought to define him by the sins of his father.

Academics:

Best Subject: DADA

Favorite Subject: Potions

Favorite Professor: Snape

Worst Subject: Muggle Studies

Least Favorite Subject: History of Magic

Least Favorite Professor: Binns

Student Life:

A mix of academic excellence, social prominence, and a constant struggle to define his own identity in the shadow of his father

Stood out as one of the brightest students, excelling and mastering more than just the curriculum

Popular, despite his challenges.

Is at every Slytherin event

Slytherin beater on the Quidditch team

Walks a fine line of light and dark, wrestling with his demons from his past

Is really just a puppy-eyed boy behind his tough exterior

Template: @hazyange1s

#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #slytherin #hogwarts houses #hogwarts oc #hogwarts #mattheo smut #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle

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thefiery-phoenix · 1 year ago

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PLATONIC YANDERE POTTER FAMILY X READER X WEASLEY FAMILY

In this AU, Harry's parents are well alive

You'd most probably meet the Potter family first before meeting the Weasley family and I have a feeling that they'd be friends with each other. You'd meet the Potter family on the day Harry was going to Hogwarts, James did have quite a legacy at Hogwarts for being one of the best Quidditch seekers the Gryffindor Quidditch team ever had. Harry was looking forward to follow in his footsteps and the two of you met at the Kings' Cross Station. Your parents couldn't come with you to drop you off because they had an important business meeting with some client in Switzerland and they left you with your aunt who only dropped you off at the station and took off almost immediately, leaving you all by yourself surrounded with complete strangers. You've never been to Kings' Cross Station before and you had no idea where in the name of Merlin was platform 9 3/4. You've asked the Station master nearby and he thought you were just messing with him and pranking him which was why he just shooed you away

You were at a loss, you didn't know what to do and whom to contact, it wasn't like you were given an official guide as to where the platform was. You started panicking, thinking that the Hogwarts Express would be leaving without you any minute and you'd miss your wonderful chance to go to Hogwarts. You couldn't help but blink back a few tears of frustration as you felt that the situation was spinning out of control. You sighed and sat down on a bench for a moment to think about what to do next. You spotted a family of 3, a young boy of your age wearing glasses with a scar on his head, along with his parents, a man who resembled the boy's appearance, his father perhaps and his mother with hair as Red as the autumn leaves were accompanying their son with his trolley. "Blimey Harry, can't believe you're going to Hogwarts. Time does fly by fast" said James dramatically as he wiped his fake tears away

His wife, Lily glared at him and whispered "Shh... what if someone hears?" "It'll be all right, muggles don't know a damn thing about platform 9 and 3 quarters and Hogwarts and all that" he waved airily as they walked past you. An idea suddenly formed and took shape in your head as you followed them and when you finally caught up to them, you spoke "Umm... hi there, good morning. I was wondering if you could please direct me to where platform 9 and 3 quarters is...I know it exists, I just can't find it..." you finished with a forlorn look on your face as they stared at you in amazement for a moment and they had a silent discussion with each other through their eyes. You were indeed, one of them. "Don't worry dear, we'll help you. Where are your parents though?" enquired Lily as you replied "They're in Switzerland at the moment" "Oh...who came to drop you off then?" asked James as you answered "My aunt. She had some work to do back at her law firm. She's a lawyer so... it's just me by myself" you laughed slightly as they felt sad. Even though they just met you, Harry could already sense you were a bit upset and sad about something, the way your eyes had that wistful and wishful lost look in them, James and Lily didn't think too kindly about your aunt and your parents either at the moment

Attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time was a magical once in a lifetime experience which would be memorable in one's life. How could your so called family just abandon you like that without even taking the time off from their work to even see you off properly? And did your family not care about your safety at all? What about all the dangerous and unknown strangers lurking around? The society and world these days isn't really that safe you know especially for sweet little things such as yourself. They decided to accompany you and show you the ropes as you tagged along with them and felt grateful that you'd finally catch your train in time

You noticed Harry's scar and when you asked him how he got it, he just had a sheepish smile on his face and replied "I was trying to catch a snitch at the Diagon Alley on my broom and I accidentally crash landed at Borgin and Burkes near Knockturn alley. The owner wasn't really that pleased with me when I smashed some of his stuff but the incident did kind of catch on with the other witches and wizards from the magical world. Some thought it was amusing and they think I'll follow in my dad's footsteps to become a great seeker like him" "What's a seeker?" you asked him with a confused and bewildered expression on your face. He stared at you for a moment and then it dawned upon him that you could have spent your life living with muggles and you probably had no idea what he was talking about. However no matter, he'd show you and teach you everything

You guys reached the platform just in time and you thanked them for their help as Lily hugged you and smiled "Enjoy yourself dear. Stay safe and have fun but don't get into any trouble" your heart warmed at her words, it was the sort of advice a mother would give to her child before sending them off into the real world all by themselves. You nodded as you boarded the train with Harry, saying your farewell and goodbyes to the Potter family. James and Lily couldn't get you off their minds for some reason, they were concerned with your safety and wondered if you were being treated well at home. Perhaps they'd better write to Harry after he reached Hogwarts to check up on you and update them about you. Just to be safe

You were talking with Harry and your conversation was interrupted when a ginger haired boy around your age dressed in black robes, with freckles on his face peeked in and spoke "Excuse me, do you mind? Everyone else's is full..." "Not at all" replied Harry as he motioned for the guy to take a seat in front of him. "I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley" he introduced himself as Harry introduced himself and you introduced yourself as well. The three of you were engaged in discussions when the sliding door opened again and this time, a girl with brown hair asked if any of you had seen a toad, a boy named Neville had lost one. The three of you said you hadn't spotted a toad and when she saw the wand in Ron's hand, she spoke "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see it then" with an interested look on her face. Ron glanced at the two of you nervously but composed himself as he straightened his posture and uttered a spell which you were pretty sure wasn't even real because instead of turning his pet rat Scabbers yellow, he just made it frightened and it started scampering around everywhere till he finally managed to calm it down

The girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger and she disappeared after she told you three to change into your robes. You finally reached Hogwarts after a few hours and you were speechless by the magnificence and splendor before you. It looked exactly like the sort of castles in your bedtime stories your mother used to read for you when you were little, before she wasn't too preoccupied with her work and had time for you. You went along with the other first years led by a giant of a man named Hagrid who you thought was quite nice and friendly. Then the head of the Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall who was also the Transfiguration professor gave you all some background information about the houses

"Slytherin is filled with dark wizards and witches. And crackpots too" whispered Ron to you and you felt nervous, you didn't want to get sorted into Slytherin and lose your new friends. Professor McGonagall then asked you all to wait for a few moments as she needed to get some things ready for the sorting ceremony and as soon as she left, a blonde haired guy spoke "So it's true then, the sayings on the train... Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts" as everyone looked at him in surprise and muttered among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy" as he introduced himself and Ron snickered in a not so subtle manner. Of course Draco heard it and wasn't really pleased with his reaction as he sneered at him. " You think my name's funny do you? There's no need to ask yours... red hair, a hand me down robe... you must be a Wealsey..." as he turned back to Harry and spoke "You'll have to know by now that there are some Wizarding families that are better than the others Potter. You're a part of the Sacred 28 after all,you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort..." and glared at Ron again

You barely knew Malfoy for 5 minutes when you intervened "I'm sorry, what exactly makes a family a part of the Sacred 28? And Harry can make his decisions for himself. Of course, if you were a part of a Sacred family, your values and morals would be decent as well. Else you wouldn't be insulting people right off the bat as soon as you meet them". Some of the first years around you 'ooohed' when you said that as Malfoy's face grew hot and red with anger as he snarled "Stay out of this. No one asked you for your opinion" and you just rolled your eyes in response. Harry and Ron stared in amazement at your courage as Hermione was observing the scene from a distance away. It was your first day at Hogwarts and you were already getting ready to fight? She looked on rather disapprovingly but part of her admired your courage and loyalty for your friends by standing up for them. Which was why she also gripped her wand in her pockets just in case she could pull it out if the situation got out of hand. She didn't want anything happening to you for some reason

It was time for the sorting at long last, the moment you've been waiting for and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sorted into the Gryffindor house whereas Malfoy was sorted into the Slytherin house. The sorting hat was placed on top of your head and it muttered "Hmm.... interesting. Very very interesting...." as you nervously looked up at it and asked "What is?" "In all my years of sorting students into houses, you're truly something. You have bravery, courage and loyalty, fit to be a Gryffindor and yet, that cheek, determination and lots and lots of ambition to make you a Slytherin. Plenty of brains, the curiosity and hunger for knowledge is in there as well, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. You're also kind hearted and have the good old nature that Helga Hufflepuff was talking about...hmm... where to put you?" it asked you

It was quite an interesting predicament because never before did anyone see the sorting hat have trouble sorting someone into a house. Everyone looked at you with bated breath as you could feel everyone's eyes on you which made you a bit conscious of yourself but you tried your best to ignore the feeling. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was watching you quite closely as professor Snape, the Potions professor seemed interested as well. After a few moments of deliberation, the sorting hat finally sorted you into Gryffindor which you felt relieved about. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt immensely glad that you were in the same house along with them. You felt an exhilarating feeling course through your body when everyone clapped for you as you joined the Gryffindor table. You were introduced to the Wealsey siblings present there, Percy Wealsey, the third oldest who was the Gryffindor prefect, Fred and George the twins who were overly fond of pranking people and you made a mental note to not get on their bad side. The last thing you needed was to wake up with horns on your head or something or a tail for that matter

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you became fast friends pretty quick but you refused to talk with them when they didn't include you in the quest for the Philosopher's stone. It broke their hearts but it was for your own good,you couldn't be put in danger like that. They cared for you too much and it drove them crazy when you ignored them or just glared at them angrily and stormed off. You finally softened a bit towards them when they said that they didn't want to put you in danger and they just wanted you to be safe. You started hanging out with them again as usual and they were elated, the days you refused to even spare them a second glance was utter torture for them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were like your three overprotective shadows, always around you no matter what. They've appointed themselves as your official caretakers and grew possessive and obsessive of you really quick

Harry wrote to his parents about you regularly as Ron did to his parents as well. During Christmas your parents forgot to send you your Christmas presents and you felt heartbroken. Harry, Ron and Hermione were mad as hell so they pitched in and got you some treats from the Great Hall and a few Christmas goodies of your own like a journal from Hermione, a cute quill set from Ron and from Harry, a book he thought you might be interested to read along with an encouraging note from all three of them. Of course they've mentioned to their parents that you haven't received any gifts for Christmas and you've received dozens of parcels from the Potter family and the Wealsey family, even though you hardly knew them. But they knew everything about you, more than you could know about yourself. You've received puddings, Tarts, cakes, pastries, sweaters, a maroon jumper with a W stitched on it and a snowglobe with a cute tiny snowman inside it. You felt grateful for their presents and sad at the same time for your own parents and family forgetting about you just like that

You were even more crushed when your parents said that they needed to go to France for a work conference and your aunt would be preoccupied with a huge case in the muggle world which meant you couldn't go back home. You were pretty devastated when you were invited by Ron to spend time with his family as Harry stated that his parents would join them at the Weasley's house for a couple of days. You agreed and upon reaching the Wealsey house, you could feel the warmth and homely feeling the atmosphere radiated. It certainly did give off homely vibes. You wished your family was also like this. You were introduced to Molly, who hugged you and spoke "So you're the famous Y/N my Ronald keeps talking about all the time... it's so nice to finally meet you dear" as Ron heatedly yelled out "MUM!" as Fred and George snickered in the background, whispering about how Ron was a simp for you as he told them to shut up

You were even introduced to Arthur Weasley, the father of Ron and the other Wealsey siblings who worked at the Ministry of magic, Bill Weasley who worked as a curse breaker at Gringotts the Wizarding bank in Egypt, Charlie Wealsey who worked with dragons in Romania which you found extremely fascinating. There was also young Ginny Weasley, who'd be starting Hogwarts next year. She was shy at first but she really opened up to you and she had fun being around you. The Weasley family loved and enjoyed your presence, it felt like you were part of their family already

Percy could see you becoming a head boy/ girl or prefect and he wanted to become your guide but Fred and George kept stealing you away to their room to show you their latest inventions. They loved it when your eyes sparkle and light up in curiosity, they feel proud when you take in interest in their inventions as do the other Wealseys when you enquired about their hobbies and pastimes. Molly wouldn't even let you step out of the house when it was time for De- gnoming the garden, she didn't want you getting injured and everyone agreed that it would be best for you if you'd stayed in while they'd take care of the business

A few days later James and Lily showed up at the Burrow and greeted you warmly as all of you sat down together and discussed various things over some nice hot steaming bowls of soup and a scrumptious feast laid out by Molly and Lily. When you were asked about your love life by Ginny, you literally choked on your soup as Molly patted you on the back and James handed you a glass of water. "Ginevra, that isn't a question for the dinner table" said Molly with a death stare as everyone present there became very interested in what you had to say. "Believe it or not, some guy from our Potions class, Troy Mullers asked me out for Valentine's day" "What did you say?" asked Hermione as everyone felt that sudden protective urge to make sure you were safe by all means necessary, even if it meant getting that Troy schmuck out of the way. They won't stand for someone to romantically court you, you were too kind and innocent to have your heart and feelings being taken for a ride by some random immature guy you barely even knew

"I... I rejected him. He wasn't happy about it and he called me all sorts of mean names but... it's not something I'm not used to" you shrugged it off as they all felt anger course through their veins. Who dared to make you sad and upset by calling you mean names and hurt your feelings? In fact Charlie was ready to send a Hungarian Horntail after them and Fred and George would send them Howlers after Holwers and packages with explosive Dungbombs from Zonkos, the Wizarding joke shop that go off as soon as you open the parcel. They were seething and they all came to a single conclusion, you had to be taken under their care for your own good. And judging by the way your so called family was treating you, you wouldn't want to be spend more time with them anymore which was a huge favor for them. Besides, what good is a family if they can't take care of you? Don't worry dear, they'll look after you and care for you like their very own. You've become a part of their families now whether you wanted to or not and it's like they say, family ALWAYS comes first...

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barid-bel-medar · 2 months ago

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AU where Bakugou and Iida are both in 1-B like Midoriya hoped they would be

All Might sees an interaction between Katsuki and Izuku (unknown to Izuku) and then goes to Nedzu to make sure Izuku and Katsuki are not put in the same class. Kan is instead given Katsuki because he's deemed more capable of handling a kid who needs more hands on teaching . Iida it's to make sure there's at least one legacy student per class; Shouto is 1-A's

Izuku feels a lot more relaxed that first day without either there, including unintentionally doing better than in canon at the QAT (and not, you know, also having a classmate attempt to attack him)

Tenya is frustrated he cannot apologize to Izuku because their schedules do not overlap and he wants to let Izuku know he 'understands' now.

Katsuki is not having a great time in 1-B. He ended up antagonizing multiple people. He resents being in the 'second-string' class (since 1-B). He's finding he's not liking *not* seeing Izuku and doesn't entirely want to acknowledge any possibilities 'why' there.

Tenya and Katsuki still got put on the same team that first practical class, but they fought Setsuna and Monoma.

Both try to use the Sports Festival to speak with Izuku, both even having the same idea of a cavalry team up.

#five headcanons and an au #bakugou katsuki #iida tenya #midoriya izuku

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astra-ravana · 24 days ago

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Augury: Bird Divination

Augury, also called ornithomancy, is the practice of reading birds and their behavior to divinate the past, present, and future. It is one of the oldest forms of divination, having been practiced by the ancient Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians, as well as the Celts and Native Americans alike. The reader in this case is referred to as the "augur", and reading the birds is often called "taking the auspices".

Birds are universally seen as messengers and sometimes, as psychopomps, connecting us to the other side and the divine. Augury incorporates the type of bird, the number of birds, as well as their flight patterns and behavior. One can gain powerful insight by incorporating this divination into their practice. Here's the interpretations for general types of bird, some basic movements, and more.

Bird type symbolism:

• Blue jay - Truth, communication, playful, high energy, loud

• Cardinal - Hope, joy, ancestors, loved ones, passion, warmth

• Crow - Magick, witches, transformation, power, omens, intelligence, mystery

• Dove - Peace, tranquility, love, connection, safety

• Duck - Friendship, good fortune, protection from negative energy

• Eagle - Power, leadership, freedom, manifestation, opportunity, adventure

• Falcon - Navigation, taking chances, travel, cooperation, courage, vigilance

• Goose - Love, partnership, home, protection, family

• Hawk - Spirit guides, bravery, awareness, intuition, instinct, higher perspective

• Heron - Strength, purity, longevity, knowledge, good judgment, transcendence, patience

• Hummingbird - The Fae, creativity, bliss, love, beauty, speed, rest is needed

• Kestrel - Consideration, stability, vitality, opportunities

• Owl - The gods, wisdom intuition, spiritual exploration, the unknown, observation, intelligence

• Raven - Mystery, magick, the Fae, knowledge, mischief, death

• Robin - Luck, prosperity, fertility, new beginnings, good things, rewards

• Sparrow - New love, relationships, team work, productivity

• Starling - Communication, adaptability, community, fun, freedom

• Stork - Longevity, fertility, new life, prosperity, wisdom, luck

• Swan - Grace, beauty, music, poetry, creativity, loyalty, partnership

• Vulture - Renewal, perception, creativity, death, patience

• Woodpecker - Hard work, advantage attention, progress, determination

Movement

Directions:

• Towards – Reception

• Away – Depletion

Crossing your path:

• An bird crossing your paths means boundaries.

• Crossing from left to right – Minor achievement

• Crossing from right to left – Minor obstacle

Diagonal:

• A movement diagonally means transformation.

• Lower right to upper left diagonal – Weak obstacle

• Lower left to upper right diagonal – Weak achievement

• Upper right to lower left diagonal – Major obstacle

• Upper left to lower right diagonal – Major achievement

Stationary:

• Stationary means foundation.

• Stationary front – Stability

• Stationary back – Stagnation

• Stationary left – Separation

• Stationary right – Unification

Rotation:

• Clockwise – Major completion

• Counterclockwise – Minor completion

Sides:

• Left - Bad

• Right - Good

Number of Birds:

• 1 - The self, beginnings, manifestation, physical action

• 2 - Security, partnership, balance, duality

• 3 - Adventure, communication, trinity, raising consciousness, strength

• 4 - Wisdom, stability, home, protection

• 5 - Change, creativity, romance, humor and drama

• 6 - Peace, self-love, equilibrium, health

• 7 - Psychic ability, intuition, spiritual awakening, soul mates

• 8 - Transformation, finances, infinite possibility, struggle/delay

• 9 - Lessons, education, courage, pioneering energy

• 10 - Completion, higher powers, alignment, legacy

• 11 - Good luck, wishes granted, new friends, joy

• 12 - Introspection, other realms, the dead, the shadow

Finding feathers:

• Gray – A time of peace is arriving

• White – Focus on your spirituality

• Black – You are protected

• Brown – Strength and courage

• Red – Find and use your spiritual gifts

• Orange – You will be successful

• Yellow – You are on the right path

• Green – Healing is coming

• Blue – Use your voice

• Purple – Expand your psychic abilities

• Pink – Love, romance, or pregnancy

• Striped – Change will happen soon

• Spotted – Release the past

#magick #witch #lefthandpath #witchcraft #eclectic witch #eclectic #eclectic pagan #pagan witch #pagan community #witch community #witchblr #divination #Omens

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thatsnotmygunflash · 2 months ago

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“Panic erupted at Central City Hall after unknown gunmen kidnapped Congressman Leonard Snart in broad daylight during his 'Metas are Human' rally. Eyewitnesses to the attack say three of Snart's security guards were killed in their efforts to protect the Congressman and four more were injured. Authorities say they are putting in every effort to recover the Congressman, working around the clock to bring him home safely. If anyone has any information regarding—”

“Hey man, are you watching the news?” Barry didn't bother with a hello when he heard the call connected, his eyes still glued to the footage of the kidnapping replaying on the TV screen. It was the first time since being back in Central that he'd felt the familiar course of adrenaline start to build in his blood. His feet were already vibrating just thinking about running head-first into a new mission. This was a problem he could solve as easily as making a run to the grocery store. He might not be in the military anymore and his whole team may be suspended from using their powers on US soil until the investigation is over, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to let that stop him from saving not only his personal hero but the Congressman leading the fight for metahuman rights. If Leonard Snart died, metahumans wouldn’t stand a chance against the discrimination and dehumanization they were up against in Congress.

“Yeah, crazy right? Can't believe they got the drop on Captain Cold.” Cisco replied readily, the echoing broadcast accompanying his voice. “I mean, we've all heard the stories from General Lance.”

Leonard Snart hadn’t always been a Congressman, of course. He was the beloved Mayor of Central City before that, and a decorated police officer briefly after being honorably discharged from the military due to an injury in the field. Leonard Snart was the only human to ever Captain the same covert metahuman team Barry had helped lead for the past five years. The original Rogues were legendary, especially their human leader. He may have only been human, but Snart had a genius-level intellect and was an expert tactician, not to mention an exceptional marksman and a bit of a kleptomaniac at the most convenient of times. Captain Cold was a decorated hero who helped turn the Rouges into the military's best secret weapon. The motivational stories that Sara had told them during training and the old missions she would drill them on had fueled Barry's endless quest to be the best operative he could be. Chasing Captain Cold's legacy like it was critical to his career, right up to the point of obsession. It had helped him rank up quickly, religiously studying Snart's tactical strategies, missions, and reports. Barry learned from his mistakes before he could even make them most of the time thanks to Snart’s detailed mission logs and his additional references to counter scenarios that would have been successful. Barry was the man he is today because of Leonard Snart–his hero, his teacher, and his inspiration. He couldn’t stand back on the sidelines and hope someone else was going to put a plan together and save Snart.

He had to do something.

“Yeah, they would have just shot him in the street if they wanted him dead,” Barry theorized, finally giving in to the restlessness running through his body and taking off into a sprint, barely being able to enjoy the exhilarating feeling of running again before he was across town and right into the middle of Cisco’s underground workshop. “The kidnappers must want something else, but that doesn't mean they won't kill him when they get it.”

“Is this you trying to ask me to look into where they’re keeping him?” Cisco questioned with a surprised eyebrow raised as he took the phone away from his ear and set it down near the gutted metal tube spilling over with wires sitting in front of the scientist, along with an array of tools and loose equipment. If Barry wasn’t mistaken it was one of Hartley’s sonic grenades he was tinkering with. The same sonic grenades the Miltary had confiscated. Barry knew he couldn't have been the only one going stir-crazy since being discharged, but Cisco had been smart enough not to inform the government about his ability to breach, allowing him easy access to anything he wanted, from this world or another. Cisco always had to be doing something with his hands, anything to keep him busy and his ideas flowing. It was a trait Barry had always admired about his best friend, especially right now.

“Maybe? I don't know. I feel like I should do something, he could die,” Barry replied warily, running a hand through his hair as he considered what would happen if he didn't get involved. “The guys who grabbed him have to be professionals, there's no way of knowing what they'll do if SWAT gets involved. I'm thinking if you can pin down his location I can be in and out with Snart before you finish telling me the address.”

“I'll let Frosty and Cait know what's up while I track him down, have them set up the med room for him just in case.” Cisco was already abandoning his workbench and moving towards his computer as he spoke, typing out a message to the girls on his phone while he booted up his PC. “Want me to contact his team and let them in on the plan?”

“After. I don't want to take the chance if this is an inside job. I want Snart safe before we bring outsiders in on this.” Barry responded, knowing in his gut that the only thing they could afford to worry about right now was making sure Snart made it out of this alive.

“Yeah good call, can't have the man spearheading the ‘Metas are Human' movement dying before he can get the bill passed.” Cisco agreed with an approving nod, fingers dancing over the keyboard as he pulled up the satellite footage of the kidnapping.

“Exactly. He's our only chance at keeping our civil rights, Cisco, we gotta save him.” He didn't mention he was their only chance of getting the team back together and their dishonorable discharges dropped. Lance still kept in contact with them all even if it was dangerous for her own career to be mixed up with their disgraced team at such an uneasy time like this. She had risked it though to tell them she had talked to Snart about their situation and he had vowed to do what he could to get them all reinstated and the investigation handled by an unbiased party.

“I know man, I'm tracking them through CCTV cameras right now, shouldn't be much longer. You should suit up.” Cisco suggested, pressing a button on a small remote while nodding towards the now moving back wall where he kept the team’s secret emergency gear stashed. It seemed like Cisco was keeping a lot of secrets from the government down here.

“Red or black?” Barry asked the scientist, trying not to get caught up in the nostalgia of seeing his team's suits lined up and on display again. It had only been three months since the team was disbanded but it felt like years to him. This felt like coming home, much more than arriving at Central City airport after 12 years away had.

“Black. Should probably keep this one stealthy.” Cisco replied, turning his head to the side to meet Barry's eye. “Are we playing this like Karmana or Kota Baharu?”

“Moscow,” Barry said with a soft hum, trembling fingers reaching for the reinforced tripolymer fabric waiting for him. It really had been too long, the anticipation was almost too much for him to handle. He's missed the comfort of his super suit. Of his team. His life. God, everything had gone to such shit so quickly that he never even got to prepare himself for never suiting up and leading a mission again. It had been stripped from him just like his team, his rank, and his reputation had.

“Oh really?” Cisco curved his surprise quickly, his worry pushing forward instead. “You think he'll remember the call sign?”

“He'll remember,” Barry replied confidently, not wasting another second and flashing into his suit. It was even better than he remembered, like a missing limb growing back, or maybe he had missed his old life more than he cared to admit. Now, he felt safe and powerful and needed. Three things that had been severely lacking in his life since being discharged.

“Let's hope you're right,” Cisco muttered before glancing down at his phone and smirking in triumph. “I've got the location and Cait is almost ready. It's showtime, Lieutenant Flash.”

“Don't call me that man. I'm not your lieutenant anymore.” Barry said with a shake of his head, brushing off Cisco's quick reply.

“The government may have royally fucked us all over and disbanded the team, but that doesn't mean I lost respect for the rank you earned dude.”

“Whatever, can you just give me the address please? We have a Congressman to save.” Barry pulled his cowl up, letting it settle into place and feeling his shoulders drop down, all the tension he was carrying leaving him at once. There was no better feeling than using his powers to save someone, and now after months of moping around his shoebox apartment and his mind-numbing third-shift security gig, having to refrain from using his speed, he was going to get to use it to save Leonard Snart. He knew the ‘Oh shit, I’m going to meet Leonard Snart!’ freak out he would no doubt have later would be embarrassing and long, but it would mean Snart would be alive and that was more than enough for Barry to look forward to making a fool of himself in the future.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Cisco winced at the latest text that popped up, shooting Barry a constipated smile. “Hopefully he's like really grateful you’re risking it all right now to save his ass and can keep you from getting arrested for doing it. Frost says they know you're active. APB is about to go out. Waller is pissed.”

“Better make this good then, I'm too pretty for prison.” Barry couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face as Cisco finally rattled off the address to him, offering him a lazy salute that a year ago would have gotten him kitchen duty for two weeks. Now it just earned him a good-natured laugh.

“Good luck, Lieutenant,” Cisco said with an encouraging pat on the back, letting out a small laugh to himself when Barry took off just as quickly as he had appeared. “Something tells me you're going to need it.”

#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #the flash #captain cold #military au #but also not #because Barry ends up his new personal bodyguard after he saves him #and says fuck the military I work for Leonard Snart now and so do all my friends

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artbyblastweave · 26 days ago

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So I blew through Ultimate Marvel Team-Up in order to get context for when Daredevil starts sticking his horns back into the main Ultimate Spider-Man book, and what's really interesting to me is that Bendis's rendition of basically every non-Spider-Man cape who shows up in that gesture at what could have been an extremely cohesive Ultimate Marvel setting;

Hulk is very visibly classic Hulk in every respect, but with the added implication that he's currently neck-deep in a thriller-conspiracy uncover-the-truth kind of plot regarding the government experimentation with super-soldiers that's upstream of all of superhumanity in the Ultimate Universe. This idea was later binned, Banner was framed as neck-deep in spook shit and unlikely to try and defect from it in the way he was implied to be trying to do.

Iron Man's origin is changed so that he got abducted by rebels while attempting to sell weapons technology to a right-wing U.S-backed junta in Guatemala during the Reagan Admin, and moreover in direct retaliation for attempting to do that; this is upstream of his decision to stop selling weapons technology, and the two-shot where he teams up with Spider-Man involves Latveria attempting to steal the Iron Man Armor- with Tacit SHIELD Backing, because Nick Fury is willing to let Dr. Doom have that tech if it increases the chances of the U.S. Government eventually getting a crack at it. This extremely interesting cold war dynamic between stark and Fury also mostly got binned.

The Fantastic Four are nearly identical in function to their 616 counterparts, except that instead of a spaceflight they got their powers on a years-long expedition to the Negative Zone, having Challengers-of-the-Unknown style adventures, which both neatly resolves the datedness of the spaceflight origin and allows them to have their veteran hero status simultaneously with the idea that the heroic age is just starting out. The Negative zone was also mentioned to be the home dimension of the Skrulls, Kree, and possibly Galactus, neatly explaining why so many spaceborne threats keep making themselves earth's problem so specifically. Ultimate Fantastic Four was just good enough (And Bendis's two shot otherwise boring enough) that I can forgive the parts of this that they binned. I mean we got Marvel Zombies out of it, that's worth everything in the world

Ultimate Dr. Strange is interesting in that he's the son of the original Dr. Strange, whose origin, career and supporting cast are actually largely exactly the same but also linked to the IRL time period of Strange's debut, the early 60s through the early 80s. Stephen Strange Jr. is the inheritor of a legacy his disillusioned Mother Clea spent twenty one years trying to keep him well away from, rapidly attempting to learn the ropes under the apprenticeship of a long-suffering Wong and largely coming across as a scientologist-adjacent crank in the media. This is actually a really fun way to put Strange at the Metaphorical kids table with the rest of the aged-down heroes while also keeping him from breaking every story, and although Bendis did get to keep using him in this capacity it ultimately didn't amount to much because he got turbofucked during Ultimatum after only a couple of appearances.

Shang Chi is introduced in the middle of a Kung-Fu walking-the-earth situation, with Spider-Man haphazardly (and unsuccessfully) seeking him out for martial arts lessons when he realizes he's just leaning on his powers as a crutch in most fights. He offers him like 20 dollars

The broad outline of a lot of these ideas, and the political themes they were gesturing towards, survived their later delegation to other authors to some extent, but were corroded by Millar's cinematic bombast on The Ultimates in particular. I mourn the version of the Ultimate Universe where they just gave Bendis enough amphetamines to have him do all of it. At any rate you bet your ass that if I ever commit to trying to do some kind of fanmade unified Marvel Timeline I'd poach all of these

#thoughts #meta #ultimate marvel #marvel

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conarcoin · 2 months ago

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MCYT-related fandoms that should be Yuletide eligible

Yuletide is an annual holiday fic exchange for rare fandoms! Nominations are currently open, more information here. You must be 18+ to participate in Yuletide.

Bolded fandoms were nominated last year. This only names canonical fandoms, but you can also nominate fandoms that aren't canonized on AO3.

The list is long, so if you want the shorter list of ineligible fandoms, those would be: 3rd Life SMP | Last Life SMP Series, Dream SMP, Empires SMP, Hermitcraft SMP and Lifesteal SMP. Everything else is eligible.

100 Hours Hardcore SMP

30 Day SMP | Free Trial SMP

Afterlife SMP

Aimsey SMP

Area Unknown SMP

Art of Survival SMP

Bear SMP

Cogchamp SMP

Color Crew (Video Blogging RPF)

Content SMP

Dominion SMP

Enderbomb (Webcomic)

Epic SMP

Evolution SMP

Fable SMP

Fairy Tail Origins (Web Series)

Fuga Impossível (Web Series)

Generation Loss (Web Series)

House Builder Gang | HBG SMP

iDots SMP

IvoryCello's Prison Escapes (Web Series)

Kaboodle SMP

Karmaland SMP

Legacy SMP

Mer SMP

Mianite (Web Series)

MindCrack RPF

Minecraft Diaries - Aphmau (Web Series)

The Misfits (Podcast)

MyStreet - Aphmau (Web Series)

My Inner Demons - Aphmau (Web Series)

New Life SMP

Ordem Paranormal (Web Series)

Origins of Olympus (Web Series)

Origins SMP

Outsiders SMP

Pirates SMP

Rats SMP

SadSMP

SDMP | Sleep Deprived SMP

Shady Oaks SMP

Showtime SMP

Siege SMP

SkyBound SMP

Sleep Deprived (Podcast)

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe (Web Series)

SMPEarth

SMPLive

SOS SMP

Stampy's Lovely World (Web Series)

Team Crafted

The Cube SMP

The Group Chat - TheGroop (Podcast)

The Haunted - RejectedShotgun (Web Series)

Tiredtwt (Video Blogging RPF)

Tortillaland SMP

Vault Hunters SMP

WHITEPINE - IvoryTV (Web Series)

WitchCraft SMP

X Life SMP

Yandere High School (Web Series)

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coochiequeens · 1 year ago

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They all have he/him on their lanyards and it’s extremely clear they identify as men and are here to take opportunities away from the actual women and [non-binary] attendees.”

By Reduxx Team September 28, 2023

A major networking conference focused on centering women in computing is facing backlash from some participants after a flood of males were allowed to attend, reportedly due to the event’s inclusivity policies.

Created in 1994 and inspired by the legacy of Admiral Grace Murray Hopper, the AnitaB.org Grace Hopper Celebration purports to “bring the research and career interests of women in computing to the forefront.” While the conference was historically focused on women, recent developments in its gender inclusivity policy saw its branding open up to “non-binary” participants as well.

In its most recent Press Release on the conference, AnitaB.org deemed it “the world’s largest gathering of women and non-binary technologists.”

But the week-long conference, which costs $650 to attend for students and academics but over $1,200 for the general public, is facing heat this year after some female attendees noticed a “significant number of men” attending the event.

In a now-scrubbed Change.org petition, one female attendee calls on the Grace Hopper Committee (GHC) to provide women who purchased the pricy tickets a full refund, and commit to banning men in the future.

“GHC (2023) is named after our pioneering female programmers, who have paved the way for gender equality within the tech industry. This event was established with the intention of empowering women by creating a safe space where they can connect, learn, and thrive. However, by allowing men to participate, GHC fails to uphold its own mission,” petitioner Agnes Lu wrote in the description.

The petition was uploaded on September 26, but deleted on September 27. A cached version of the page shows that it had collected over 2,700 signatures in the 24 hours it had been active. The reasons for removal are currently unknown.

Similar sentiment was shared on Reddit as a conference attendee posted “why are there so many men at Grace Hopper?”

Posted two days ago, the user wrote: “I’m seeing entire groups of just men, at a conference that’s sole purpose is to give opportunities to WOMEN and non-binary individuals in a male dominated field. I attended last year and did not [see] any male identifying student attendees. This is genuinely infuriating.”

The user goes on to articulate in the replies that there are a limited number of networking slots available and internships are fiercely competitive.

Like in the petition, the user claimed there was an obvious discernible difference between males and “non-binary” individuals, an issue that quickly became a point of contention in the comments.

“They could just be non-binary, gender queer, etc, or that could just be men trying to get a leg up. No way to know,” one user wrote in response, to which the original poster replied: “They all have he/him on their lanyards and it’s extremely clear they identify as men and are here to take opportunities away from the actual women and [non-binary] attendees.”

But the attempted defense was quickly undermined, with some users calling the original poster a “TERF” for failing to include gender-diverse non-binary people.

“Nonbinaries, including he/him nonbinaries, belong at grace hopper and are welcome there. TERFs like you are the ones who shouldn’t be there,” one comment reads.

“Lots of NB go as he/him. The only way you could possibly know is if you asked them,” another claimed.

On X (formerly Twitter), users debated how males could be “gate-kept” from the conference without being exclusionary, to which few solutions were provided.

The conference was held in Orlando this year, in tradition with previous years, but has announced it will relocate for the next iteration due to changes to recent state legislation regarding LGBT people.

In a statement on their site, AnitaB.org claims that Florida has introduced an “onslaught of legislation that not only devalues women and non-binary people and, at the intersections, those who live as members of the LGBTQIA+ community but is also aimed at erasing Black history.” It states that the 2024 conference is being arranged to be held in another location.

One of the featured speakers this year was trans-identified male Sasha Costanza-Chock, who describes himself as a “researcher and designer who works to support community-led processes that build shared power, dismantle the matrix of domination, and advance ecological survival.”

Costanza-Chock spoke on a panel with Alejandra Caraballo, a trans-identified male attorney, on the “Intersection of Tech and Social Justice.” The panel was described as “diving into the critical intersection of technology and social equity and explore how technology can inadvertently become a barrier for underserved groups.”

#Admiral Grace Murray Hopper #AnitaB.org Grace Hooper Celebration #Women censored by Change.org #Grace Hopper Committee (GHC)

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pampushky · 3 months ago

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my masterlist

Behold my multitudes of writing! Requests are open!

hard nos for writing: grooming. pedophilia. don't fuck with any of that. I will include trigger warnings in my works if needed/they apply. I use non-con/dub-con to work through my own trauma. so if you don't like it, don't read it.

my ao3 | ask away

One Piece:

Vinsmoke Sanji Creature (Both Haunted & Holy) Series Masterlist

Things of Note About This Fic: Slow Burn, slow updates, MC is a selkie, mc has severe PTSD, Past Rape/NonCon, Straw Hats as a family. On Hiatus as of 9/27/24

Roronoa Zoro- Disk Florets

Things of Notes About This Fic: Hanahaki Disease, not actually unrequited love, Zoro is an idiot (lovingly)

Trafalgar D. Water Law- Foot of the Gallows Series Masterlist

Things of Note About This Fic: Fantasy Setting, Soulmates, Marriage of Convenience, Manipulation (not by Law don't worry), Slow Burn, Friends to Enemies to Lovers. Updated once a month at least.

Formula 1:

Lando Norris- My Name is Brutus (And My Name Means Heavy) Series Masterlist The legacy of your grandfather comes with a heavy crown, one partially melted and reformed in flames that should have killed him. Akin to the fire that should have killed you but took your mother instead, leaving you with the same scars that Niki Lauda wouldn’t wish on another, least of all his own grandchild. Yet here you stand, drawing the ire of McLaren’s golden boy, with a twisted crown of his own to wear as you throw everything he was used to to the flames. You force him to adapt overnight when you join the team suddenly after an unknown incident that sends you sprawling as you try to cope with the sudden change in team. You terrify him. And he terrifies you. And somewhere, James Hunt is cackling that Niki Lauda’s granddaughter is frighteningly similar to him.

Things of Notes About This Fic: A/B/O au, Alternate 2024 F1 Season, MC will be from the USA (plot reasons), enemies to lovers, No real description of the MC besides scars & having heavily dyed hair (part of the plot), Niki Lauda is still alive here (also part of plot)

Max Verstappen- Something So Magic About You (Oneshot Coming Soon) Everyone with a soulmate is given an animal that represents their other half, and it always wants to lead the other towards their soulmate, constantly searching for their missing part. The animals appear on their second birthday. And it grows with them. Max is always seen with an elegant yet terrifying, pitch-black Russian wolf hound, sometimes running the track with him, as if to dare other drivers to even come close to him. You, on the other hand, have a lion. A large, goofy lion that begs for all of your attention, even as you try to get through your final year of university.

Things of Note About This Fic: Soulmate AU, Past Child Abuse, Angst, hurt/comfort. Max is absolutely whipped for his soulmate. He also thinks he's represented by a house cat.

Charles Leclerc- Mon Petit Doudou It's a constant fight for anonymity in a career like yours. While you want to hide the most intimate parts of your life from the viewers who tune in to watch you fall apart from a toy or your own fingers, letting your little gasps and whines coax the viewers into tipping you. Your dominant seems uncaring about the idea that someone may recognize him, but Charles has always bordered on aloof when it came to his job and the stigma that surrounded it. But he can get rather protective---especially when some viewers seem to think they have any right to tell him how you should be treated.

Things of Note About This Fic: Sub/Dom dynamics, coworkers to lovers, sub mc, soft dom charles, manipulation (not from charles), smut, angst to fluff, pornstar au

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laura1633 · 3 months ago

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Do you think that there is a chance that Max would go to Mercedes ?

I think there is always a chance that anything could happen in F1. I remember seeing the Lewis to Ferrari social media reporting and laughing thinking it was just gossip and that turned out to be true.

I have added thoughts after the cut but they are a little incoherent.

First and foremost Mercedes would have to show that they are more competitive than Red Bull. They have had some good races this year but it seems dependent on the track and temperature and there have also been some mistakes strategically etc. At the moment it is still looking like Red Bull will be more competitive in 2025 but there is a long way to go this season and I don't think Red Bull fully understand the RB20 or know which direction to go in development-wise which is a huge concern. These cars are going to follow through to next year so if they are struggling to get to grips with it then next year could be very tricky. I can't quite work out how quick the RB20 is because I do genuinely believe that Max is an exceptional talent and is getting more out of the car than it deserves. So for now I don't think Mercedes have shown anything to suggest they will outperform Red Bull in 2025. 2026 is a complete unknown though and could be more weighted to who can produce a good engine.

I think Max would prefer to stay at Red Bull. He has been there since he was pretty much a child and they do seem to adore him. I do think it would be rather sad if Max had to leave that team, especially when I think back to his radio after winning the title and how he asked if they could do this for another ten years 😭 I also can't imagine Max without GP so I think it would depend on if GP would be willing to move 😬

I just don't think Mercedes is any more attractive than Red Bull right now unless Max has concerns about the 2026 regs.

If Red Bull don't get their shit together and fall behind and Mercedes still aren't an attractive option then maybe he will decide to go and race in another series as I doubt he wants to be driving a car if it's not even capable of winning. He has so much talent. Ultimately I don't think he needs to win 7/8 championships, he will still be considered one of the greatest of all time if he retired today. Going and competing in a different series would cement his racing legacy further if he was at all bothered about that.

I think for now Red Bull are just about on the pace (although I think Max is making them seem better than they are) so no need to panic but they do need to show that they have a clear direction for the car going forward. I refuse to live in a world where Max goes back to the number 33 and Lando is driving around in car number 1 (sorry Lando fans absolutely no offence meant but I am a Max girl.)

Honestly I trust him to do whatever is right for him with the information he has and even if that means he ends up sim racing full time and having the absolute time of his life then so be it. He's worked hard since he was a child, achieved his ultimate goal of a championship and deserves to enjoy himself. I will still cry like a baby when he eventually retires from F1.

In short, there is a chance that anything could happen but I think for now Red Bull is still the best option for him, they just need to keep pushing with the development and stop relying on Max (and the strategy team) to cover up for the lack of pace.

I also can't believe Max to Mercedes is an option after the way they talked about him in 2021 but things change and in F1 being in the right team at the right time is paramount.

I wish Ferrari could get their shit together because I would quite like to see him in red for a season (but Ferrari are still out there doing Ferrari like things)

Wow that was so long, I am so sorry.

#Max Verstappen

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ace-race-ace · 5 months ago

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Legacy AU - Part 1 - First day back

Prologue - Next part

It’s mid-January when Lance gets called into the factory for the pre-season. He’d spent the last few weeks spending time with his family and friends, snowboarding to his heart’s desire. The snow, despite being unmistakably cold, felt like warmth and comfort to him. A way to recenter himself, a reminder that no matter what, he can always come back to this feeling when things get hard. It also gave him time to reflect, to think more clearly without the constant stress of the next race looming over his head.

The same couldn’t be said about the damp, gloomy weather of England.

Thick rivulets splash against the car window, the gray clouds above showing no indication of clearing up anytime soon. Lance sighs as he presses his forehead on the cold glass. Soft music plays through his headphones as the dark rolling hills whizz by, obscured by the downfall. He can’t help but feel a bit lost, sitting alone in the backseat, the driver hidden by a separating panel. It felt a little like riding in a car possessed by an unknown spirit, leading him to his inevitable doom. Damn, he needs to get back to his senses. He’s here because he wants to. He wants to get working on the car, log in hours in the simulator, get the thrill of barreling through a circuit at 300 kilometers an hour. He wants to win, and make everyone proud, his family, his friends, and himself.

But most of all, Fernando Alonso.

Unsurprisingly, his thoughts this winter break often drifted to Fernando, his new official boss. Lance knows he needs to tread carefully. The rules have changed now. His advances, his flirting, his need to be close to the Spaniard has to be more measured. But the truth is, he isn’t sure he can hold himself back.

It was innocent, a little silly at first. Sure, he noticed from the start how his stomach would flip whenever Fernando would laugh or smile at his suggestive jokes, but he convinced himself it was just nervousness. Yet as the years went by, there was no denying the pull he had towards his fellow driver. Fernando became a person of comfort, of safety away from home. An island of peace and understanding within the raging storm that is being an F1 driver. The Spaniard opened himself to Lance, listening to his gripes about the team, the car, or his own performance, giving advice or support any way he could. Fernando would also offer physical comfort, pulling him into a tight embrace to calm him down after a hard day. Lance became used to feeling his head rest against the older man’s chest and letting the slow heartbeat cradle him to sleep.

Could he really be blamed for his wires starting to get crossed? Lance had never been cared for like this by anyone else. Sure his father gave him anything he wanted but sometimes, all Lance needed was to be held and heard. The fact Fernando is also undeniably handsome and a racing legend didn’t help his poor head getting tripped up. Admittedly, he’d let his selfish desires take over his moral compass a bit too often. In hindsight, begging to suck off your teammate after a win was a bit too extreme, but he’d seen the desire reflect in those brown eyes. If there was a way in, Lance would fight for it.

There was also the matter of the celebration party after Brazil. Fernando had been caught up the whole night by the throngs of people wanting to talk to him, party with him, congratulate him, it was no surprise Lance didn’t see much of him. He spent most of the night with Esteban, downing a few fancy drinks paid for by Lawrence’s tab. A few people came to congratulate him on the team effort but didn’t linger long before looking for the champion. Of course, Lance was happy for Fernando but he could help the twinge of jealousy. The car was a championship winning car yet he’d only secured fourth, missing out on the podium which was instead filled by the two Ferrari drivers, Verstappen and Leclerc. Towards the end of the season, Ferrari and even McLaren had started shaping up, nearly catching up which can only spell trouble for the next season. Aston Martin had the jump on everyone this year but the other teams were now ready to bring back the fight, their fancy, efficient facilities in tow. Lance felt apprehensive, and no amount of comfort from Esteban, whom he’d been ranting to all night, helped the situation. The Frenchman knew how down on himself Lance could get but he could tell the conversation wasn’t going anywhere so he made his excuses and left him at the bar, promising to catch up later. Lance let him go, even if it meant standing at the counter alone. Some people tested their luck trying to strike up a conversation now that Esteban was gone, but he wouldn’t give them even a passing glance. If stories about him being an asshole pop up in the media tomorrow, he can easily blame it on being drunk, celebrating too hard.

Just about when he was going to call it a night, Lance felt a pair of strong hands wrap around his waist from behind.

“Cariño, I have not spoken with you all night. I need to thank you again, my victory is all thanks to you.”

There is no mistaking Fernando’s voice no matter how slurred it is. Lance turned to face him and caught the older driver’s blissed out smile. His hair looked drenched, sticking up wildly. Lance didn’t dare check if it was from sweat or champagne - probably a nauseating mix of both.

“Fernando, you know that’s not true. I made too many mistakes that could have lost us the constructors. And those close calls that nearly crashed us both out.”

The Spaniard made a show of rolling his eyes and waving a hand as if he were batting away the words.

“I don’t care about that Lance. We won is all that matter. And next year, you become champion, and we win again!”

Lance laughed and shook his head.

“You really think that will happen?”

Fernando pulled the younger driver closer, their hips now flush against each other. Lance gasped as his arms got trapped between them.

“I promise I make you champion next year.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Fernando.”

The older man lifted a hand to Lance’s face, cradling his cheek. His thumb started slowly rubbing back and forth. Lance can’t help but snuggle ever so slightly into the hold, which makes Fernando smile.

“I promise. I believe in you, in us.”

Lance has to laugh at how those words would have sounded in a different context. If things were different. Suddenly, he felt Fernando tighten the hand around his face and pull him down. Their lips met in the middle in a soft kiss, Lance feeling the rough scratch of his beard against his skin. It takes a few moments for both of their consciousnesses to kick in and realize what had just happened. They both pull away from each other, remaining silent. Fernando met his gaze, his brown eyes reflecting the same affection and uncertainty in Lance’s own. He makes a vague gesture, clears his throat and walks away from the younger driver, leaving him once again alone.

There was something there, Lance knows it. Was it worth risking everything he had? Everything his father and him had worked towards? Lance knows the rational answer, but every time he thinks of Fernando, his strong hands, his sweet and caring manner, he can’t help but want more. He hasn’t seen Fernando in person since the party, communicating only through sparse work emails. Lance already hates this new dynamic. They were never just coworkers, and now he’s supposed to become Fernando’s docile employee that only works on success and productivity? Forget everything about how his lips felt against his? Fuck off.

Lance is broken out of his thoughts as the car stills. The familiar window bay isn’t as inviting under the downpour but at least the car has pulled up under the canopy. He thanks the driver and pulls the door open. A chill settles in his bones as he makes his way through the front door, the wings of the Aston Martin logo looming above.

Thankfully, it is much warmer inside. The receptionist greets Lance with a smile, indicating where the meeting would be taking place. He bumps into a few mechanics along the way, striking up an easy conversation in his usual nonchalant tone. It’s obvious the factory has been hard at work again, people jogging from place to place, the ringing sounds of machines throughout the building, interns slipping by with coffee, not a single still moment. Lawrence is the first one to pull Lance into an embrace as he enters the room, smiling brightly at his son and gesturing for him to sit. Others come to greet Lance but keep their contact minimal, most learning the hard way that the Canadian doesn’t enjoy physical contact. With exceptions of course.

He leans back in his chair and lets his resting pout come onto his face as he waits for the meeting to start. Everyone else seems engrossed in conversation, passionately discussing the upcoming season. Lance is thankful no one tries to strike up a conversation with him as he stares out the windows to the gloomy Silverstone track. No driving there today, that's for sure. Today is for all the boring bureaucratic details that Lance doesn’t care to remember but has to pretend to care about for the team. Looking at the rolling curves also reminds him of the expectation placed on him to win Silverstone this year, bringing in Aston Martin’s home race. In the past few years, both he and Fernando have failed to do so. Whether it be failed upgrades, tricky conditions, or crashes, they’ve never been able to pull it together. Lance feels dejected about his chances of ever winning here or anywhere else for that matter.

Finally, the door opens once more and conversations go quiet. Lance whips his head around faster than he is willing to admit.

Fernando looks categorically normal. Which for him of course means a perfect beaming smile, an undeniably handsome face, and energy that thrums through the room. He goes around greeting everyone with simple pats on the back or handshakes. Lance feels himself still in anticipation of his touch as he makes his way around the room. The conversations have started up again, people already throwing questions at Fernando who easily brushes them off and promises to address them all in a minute. As he passes by Lance, he is still turned towards an engineer. Fernando doesn’t say anything to Lance but squeezes his shoulder tightly before moving on. Lance hates how such a simple gesture sends shivers down his spine.

Fernando gets to the front of the oval table, still grinning widely. Lawrence shakes him lightly before taking a seat.

“Thank you everyone for being here. I am excited to start this new season with everyone here and everywhere else in the factory. We have a lot to go through today, so let’s get right into it.”

Lance tries to focus. He really does. He jots a few notes on the first few slides about the few rules and regulation changes. New changeable aero front wing mechanism, Mgu-k development, bla bla bla. Lance loses the thread pretty soon, especially when he is transfixed by the way Fernando moves his hands as he explains everything. The older man exudes confidence as if he’d been Team Principal for years. He answers questions with ease, not once looking unsure of his answer and inviting others more knowledgeable in specific aspects to share more. As teammates, Lance has never once heard Fernando talk about the car parts in such detail, it was as if he’d suddenly gotten 3 engineering degrees in a couple of months. Lance never thought the explanation of how piston positioning affects the motor efficiency would make him hot under the collar but the smooth Spanish accent that came along with it seals the deal.

Eventually, they move on to the less technical aspects of the seasons. Which tracks would suit the car, how the competition is looking, and what they need to develop. And most importantly, how they are going to win. Fernando hasn’t looked at Lance once this entire meeting but when he mentions the possibility of another world championship, he crosses his gaze and winks. Lance feels a blush come on his cheeks as he looks back down to his notebook, covered in nonsensical scribbles.

The presentation is over, and Fernando opens the floor for more questions. It’s at this point Lance actually notices his new teammate Felipe Drugovich has been here the whole time. The Brazilian peppers questions at Fernando, about the car handling, the sim work, changes to the steering wheel, all things Lance should have thought of as well. Instead, Lance sinks deeper in his seat as he watches Fernando smile at Felipe, reminding him he’d be here for advice and support throughout the season.

At long last, Lawrence declares the meeting over and ushers everyone back to work. Lance gets up slowly, his body having relaxed a bit too much into his seat. As he is about to leave the room, he feels a hand around his bicep.

“Lance, stay a bit? I want to talk to you.”

Lants. The way Fernando says his name never fails to get to him. He stills and watches everyone else filter out of the room. Once alone, he turns around to face his…boss. The grip on his arm hasn’t left as it burns through the fabric of his shirt.

“Thank you, Lance. I just wanted to check in, and make sure you are ok?”

Lance gives him a flat smile.

“Yep. Totally fine.”

Fernando sighs and chews on his lip.

“Are you sure? It seems today you were…distracted. Didn’t ask any questions, was very quiet.”

“I’ve been driving for a while. I know how it goes, I just didn’t have anything to say.”

The hand resting on his arm squeezes a little tighter.

“Of course, I know. But if we are going to make you world champion…you need to fight for it too. Drugovich is not strong enough for it, you are the only hope.”

Lance rolls his eyes and tears his arm from Fernando’s grip.

“Yeah because that’s what it’s all about. Making a champion. You don’t care about me, you only want to keep your job. Build your legacy.”

Fernando furrows his brows at the younger man before taking a step closer into his space.

“That is not true Lance. I care a lot about you. More than I should. But there are things to do, for the team. Lawrence wants the team to stay on top and I’m going to do everything to make it happen but I cannot do this without you.”

Lance swallows, looking down at Fernando’s face. It looked truthful, pleading. No matter how stubborn he can be, there is no refusing the older man’s soft gaze. The young driver sighs and chews on the inside of his cheek. He wants to believe Fernando, but there is such uncertainty that lies ahead. The other teams are no longer playing catch up, articles about their ongoing car development are released every day. Lance will be competing against drivers with over ten times more winning experience than he has. It’s become impossible to feel any kind of hope. A year ago, he would have shared his thoughts freely with Fernando, the older man probably pulling him into his chest as he listened, but that comfort could no longer happen. At least that is what he convinced himself.

“I’ll try my best Fernando.”

The Spaniard smiles and places a hand on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles. Lance closes his eyes at the soft touch.

“That is all I ask. I will handle the rest.”

Fernando’s other hand comes to grasp the dip in Lance’s waist, the place that never fails to make the younger man melt, a soft sound makes its way out of his throat. Fernando seems to immediately regret his action as he pulls away completely. He brings his hands to his face and turns away.

“Joder. Sorry, Lance. I…I shouldn’t have. Please have a good rest of your day.”

Lance’s pout comes back onto his face as he opens the door and steps out of the room. Was this how it would be? Is Fernando restraining his touches towards him? The uncomfortable knot in Lance’s stomach was only going to get worse over the season if it continued like this. He feels pathetic, but he needs the older man’s touch.

Anger takes over his senses as he starts down the hallway. It’s not fair. Fernando was the only reason he’d pulled through last year, how will he do it this year?

He only makes it a few paces down the hall before Felipe lifts off a wall to trail next to him.

“Hey Lance! What did Fernando want with you? Anything important?”

Lance sighs and starts to walk a little faster.

“None of your business.”

Felipe’s face falls and Lance feels a little bad and slows his pace.

“Look Felipe, this season is going to be a bitch. Last year was a fluke, we were lucky to get our car working within the new regulations, but the others will have caught up now. It means every man to himself.”

Felipe frowns his eyebrows. The rookie has waited years for his chance to finally come, probably idolizing the whole experience but Lance is never one to make false pretenses for anyone.

“Isn’t that why we should work together? If all the teams have a fighting chance, we can maximize points by sticking together and helping each other out, no?”

“Maybe in a regular season. But no matter what Fernando and others have been telling you, we aren’t going to have the best car. And we aren’t the best drivers. So don’t keep your hopes too high, you’ll only be disappointed.”

With that, Lance picks up his pace once again, leaving his teammate stunned to silence.

He makes his way to the sim room, his first scheduled session of the season only moments away. The engineers catch him up on a few changes, mostly to the steering wheel configuration and movable aero developments. Today isn’t about performance but getting a real feel for the car, which Lance appreciates. The snug seat that squeezes his sides is a welcomed comfort as well. The lights turn off, and he is left alone in the dark room, illuminated only by the screen in front of him. Lance feels like he can finally breathe easily for the first time all day.

The laps start off slow, the car is still quite unstable and needs to be adjusted after every lap. The low drone of the engineers going through the fixes continues to relax Lance’s mind, the familiarity comforting. He gives a bit of feedback here and there but most of the work has to be done behind the controls. Finally, the car starts to respond better to his inputs, the cornering much smoother than before. Lance starts to push a bit harder, breaking late, changing the racing line, switching gears more aggressively, and unfortunately, the result is quite mediocre. The engineers remind him this is only the first day, that it will get better but Lance can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. By lap 124, his pace has barely improved, despite increased power. The car is too twitchy, registering slight accelerations as slamming the pedal to the floor, causing it to spin out wildly. The brake has the complete opposite problem, Lance has to use the force of both of his feet in the high braking zones, throwing off his rhythm. The team scrambles to understand the issues but nothing is working. The communication that was a comfort just a few hours ago is now nagging and annoying to Lance’s ear. He responds in short, angered phrases, unwilling to stop and regroup. His hands squeeze the wheel too hard, causing cramps in his hand but when offered a break, he only restarts the simulation. Everyone on the line is trying to get him to stop. They weren’t making any progress and tiring himself out for no reason wasn’t going to help. Lance ignored their words, eyes fixed on the screen in front. Suddenly the chatter stops.

“Lance, please stop. Come out of the simulator.”

The tires screech as Lance finds himself in the wall. His heart is pounding, his throat feels dry. How long had he been here? His legs shake as he pulls himself out of the seat. The light switches back on dimly and he turns towards the control center. Fernando holds a headset to his ear, his face etched in concern. Lance gives him a half-hearted thumbs up before walking out.

Fernando isn’t in the control room anymore by the time he gets there. They pull up a chair for him and start going through the data. The engineers’ discomfort is obvious, speaking slowly and hesitantly to Lance. The data is just as discouraging, showing no consistency and a lack of reliable speed on the straights. They promise Lance that this won't be reflected in the actual car but he can tell how unsure they all seem. Eventually, Jessica arrives to do some of her own sim work so he has an excuse to slip away. He passes by medical for a quick health check-up and the tailors take the opportunity to measure him for the new suit as well.

After all is done, he walks out into the cool evening, burying his nose into his scarf as he takes in some fresh air. His phone pings in his pocket, so he reaches for it. Fernando’s name floats at the top.

“I hope you are taking good care of yourself, Lance.”

Lance shuts off his phone and enters the black car that pulls up for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

60,674 likes 215 comments

astonmartinf1: First day back at the factory for everyone! Lance and Felipe are getting ready for testing in a few weeks time! 👏👏

Inspiring words from our team principal Fernando Alonso:

2027 is going to be an interesting season. All the work we have put in as a team will pay off as long as we continue to work together and push forward. We keep moving!

Any bold predictions for this year?👀 Leave them in the comments👇

Nandolol: omggg everyone looks great😁😁

Racinggod24: lol they really think they can win with Stroll 💀💀 what a joke

fernandoalo_oficial: Go team!

F1_forlife: Fernando as team principal is either the best or worse decision ever made 🤣

felipedrugovich: Can’t wait to hit the track 🙌

Toofast: please make a fast car 🙏

Mclaurence: no chance against the Papaya team ✴️✴️

Redrarri: Leclerc WDC even Antonelli clears Stroll and Drugovich 🤭

Aston_Ace: WOOO MY CHAMPIONS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red Bull Racing, Ready to be back!

……After a two year absence, the Milton Keynes based team is ready to come back and fight for wins! Their development has been on-going throughout their ban (for cost-cap infringement) and the team feels confident in their ability to pick up where they left off!

However, their line up is quite different, Verstappen signing onto Ferrari in 2026, RedBull have had to look elsewhere for their drivers. Thankfully, a trove of drivers were available for their picking, settling on signing Yuki Tsunoda alongside Liam Lawson…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ollie Bearman resigns for Haas

….. “the truth is, most of the big teams don’t have any seats open. Haas has made great strides these past few years so I am happy to stay with them for now and see what we can accomplish. Who knows what the future holds.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercedes’ Andrea Kimi Antonelli expresses concern over new FIA rules

….. Controversially, the FIA has ruled that teams must disclose their development details more publicly, in hopes to tighten competition. However, this likely means development over the year will be lessened, as teams will prefer to keep big discoveries for future seasons. Antonelli worries this will cause boring racing, cars being unable to gain dominance over others.

———————————————————————————

Hope we like it so far :)

I will be switching “perspectives” every other part or so (still in 3rd person but getting the inner thoughts of one if that makes sense)

I can also make a full “grid reveal” for this story if people are interested

Sorry this took ages to come out 😅😅

#f1 #formulaone #fanfic #strollonso #fernando alonso #lance stroll #ls18 #fa14 #legacy au

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