#but its possible someone else posted it first and my thought came from the post

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Au where this is Peggy and Coulson

[ceesimz]

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

[larrylimericks]

19Oct24

No matter how mad the word made us, It always held hope — a “hiatus.”

I’m sad for so many reasons — the fundamental sadness of death, and at such a young age; having to process the mortality of someone so extraordinary it seems they should transcend a fate as ordinary as dying; aching for his family and friends; angry that he had to navigate such a cruel world, one that continues to disrespect him in death. Yes, Liam was damaged and in turn damaged others; he had demons to face and amends to make — I like to think he would have, given a chance. His talent was so immense, and there was so much more to come. I believe he would have found a way to redemption, and then had such a beautiful renaissance.

The joy of being a 1D fan has always been policed and mocked. We’ve so frequently been laughed at, dismissed for the intensity of our love for the band. And now, the world wants to do the same with our grief, questioning its legitimacy, trivializing our feelings. But this loss is real. And this grief is valid.

And the grief of losing Liam is compounded by the grief of losing so much else. He wasn’t just a celebrity. They weren’t just a boyband. He was an integral part of an integral part of our formative years — no matter how old we were when we found them. So many of us are the people we are in part because of the people they are. Were. We’ve lost a beloved one, we’ve lost innocence, we’ve lost inspiration, we’ve lost a piece of our foundation.

We’ve lost hope.

It used to frustrate me, in retrospect, that they called it a “hiatus.” It felt dishonest — like a gentle lie to let us down easy. Why couldn’t they just say it was over? That being a boy band has a built-in shelf life, and it was time to explore solo careers. But now I understand the kindness in that word. For hope springs eternal, and it didn’t matter if it never came. All that matters was that it might. And “hiatus” wasn’t just for us; it held their optimism too. Especially Liam’s. It left the door open, even if only a crack, for the possibility of something more.

It’s been a remarkable gift to watch each one find his own path and his own voice. But when they announced a hiatus in 2015, they planted a seed of hope that someday we’d see the unrivaled magic of those boys on stage together again — the greatest team the world has ever seen. Maybe Zayn would join, probably not. Maybe it would’ve been a one-off thing for charity or a special anniversary. Maybe it would be in their 50s when the allure of easy money from a reunion tour was too tempting to resist. But surely, eventually, 1D would reunite in some capacity. I was excited to see how their once frenetic energy and youthful antics would meld with the mature solo artists they’ve become.

That hope sustained us through 18 months and eventually eight years, but now the hiatus is over. I would have happily clowned for every remaining day of my life than know this new certainty brought by the finality of Liam’s death. Maybe, someday, there will be a memorial performance. Maybe we’ll see three or four out of five come together to honor him — and what a poignant testament it will be that Liam was what could bring them together. Or maybe it will never feel right to them to take the stage without him, and that, too, will make all the sense in the world.

I wish I had an uplifting ending for this post. I don’t. I wake up and my first thought is “Liam isn’t here anymore,” and then I go about my day with that relentless realization lurking around the corner of every mundane task I do.

I haven’t been able to listen to their music yet. It’s a cruel trick that the thing that always brought comfort is now a trigger for grief. But I hope that will soon change. That, at some point, I’ll put on WMYB, get choked up at “You’re insecure” and second-guess my readiness. But then jump to History, and find solace in the lyrics that are currently rattling around my brain but aren’t ready to be heard yet: “This is not the end, this is not the end” … “We can live forever.”

❯❯❯❯

[uno-san]

Bill Cipher Vs. Self-Hatred

Howdy y'all! Today I just wanted to go over some thoughts I had over everybody's favorite triangle that may or may not have occurred to some of you already. Naturally this will contain Book of Bill Spoilers.

To start off our little essay I thought it would be important to first sum up my thoughts on one of Bill's more complicated relationships: Stanford

Now we've all seen his dynamic with Stanford plenty of times in the show but with recent information coming from both the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com more light has been shed on the subject from both Bill's perspective and Ford's.

There's more than meets the eye when it comes to dissecting Bill's interactions and thoughts on Stanford, with the ever enlightening "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES" making theorists scratch their heads. Within the Book of Bill are these codes and their meanings: hbh grfwru ri d gliihuhqw nlqg/ zkr zdqw wr pdnh klv sdwlhqw eolqg

eye doctor of a different kind/ who wants to make his patient blind

Qeb alzqlo pxvp/ qeobb pfmp x axv/ tfii jxhb qeb sfpflkp/ dl xtxv

The doctor says/ three sips a day/ will make the visions/ go away

Ixvvb hdwhu/ edeb eloob/ zrxogq'w gulqn/ xqohvv lwv vloob

Fussy eater/ baby billy/ wouldn't drink/ unless its silly

As well as:

Finding out that both Stanford and Bill have a genetic mutation that made them Black Sheep suggests the possibility that Bill saw a kinship within Stanford. After all, he did make the offer for Stanford to join him. No doubt being able to sympathize with Stanford's situation yet misreading his motivations, causing the rift in their once savable relationship once Bill's lies were uncovered.

Now I'll admit it was others who came up with this theory in particular, especially when drawing comparisons of how Stanford was treated and how Bill allegedly was for having a strange eye. Stanford, in some form of other, might represent how Bill was before he saw the destruction of his world by his hands. A mere outcast looking for his place in the world. To be believed rather than ridiculed or "fixed".

Self-Hatred

And now we get to the Bill we all know today:

The chaos loving and nightmare inducing three-sided maniac, who may be hiding more insecurities than he ever let on in the show, thanks to the Theraprism.

Someone far more traumatized

Who's had to convince himself to fully be the bastard he is today

But if the theory that Bill had a type of kinship with Stanford thanks to their mutations was true, then wouldn't it be possible that his relationship with someone else might represent the inner struggle with himself?

For you see, the original title of this post was...

Bill Cipher Vs. Stanley Pines

As my own theory is that Stanley Pines is what Bill decided to project his self-hatred on. Nobody can doubt that the two have similar qualities, yet as I read the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom I couldn't help but notice the absolute malice that Bill has for Stanley whenever he's mentioned.

There have been many opponents before that have strived to take Bill down. Whether that was the Shaman, the Anti-Cipher Society, or Time Baby, none of his interactions with them have appeared as vitriol as compared to Stanley.

Not even Stanford has this same reaction, who, by really no contest, was the closest to ever defeating Cipher by himself. Both with the gun that he near successfully killed Bill with and the secret of the barrier of Gravity Falls he refused to give up. Bill didn't even have a real interaction with Stanley until the last episode.

Yet it isn't Stanford that causes Bill to break while he's in the Theraprism. It's Stanley.

"-A resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness!"

"Self-pitying"

"Stupid"

"Smug"

"Hack Jokes"

"UNWORTHY"

Now it could be just me, but those are a lot of specific insults to fling somebody's way that you've barely interacted with. Especially if Bill credits the Twin Swap to Stanford entirely as opposed to allowing Stanley the credit.

"STEP RIGHT UP, it's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they’re ALL YOURS for the low low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! ITS SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES!"

“SHAME:TM - IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!”

This out-of-character hatred doesn't come from the fact that Bill thought Stanley wasn't worthy, it comes from the fact that Bill sees himself in Stan. Who by all means is a lying and conniving screw up. Somebody who let his family down.

This could possibly be proven by the poem Bill had wrote about Stanley:

The whole poem suits my point but I decided to highlight the sections that caught my eye specifically. That when you put into consideration Bill's clear trauma and regret about the Euclidian Massacre, his own words can clearly be flipped back on him.

That he sees himself as a curse and a mistake. A self-made monster. Someone who's left the past behind when the loss of his home is still on his mind.

And what truly gets under Bill's skin about Stanley Pines?

"He got his life and family back.

His big break, it finally came,

Redemption from a life of shame"

Stanley got back what Bill can't.

[thecoolerliauditore]

Hi. I'll bite. What's the Jimmy ecosystem?

(completely genuine, feel free to direct me to an older post if there is one, i just didn't find it)

oh my goodness, an excuse to explain one of my strange pidgin language-esque terms of convenience that I'm not quite sure anyone understands outside of one or two people. that tubbytarchia guy put it into words pretty well if you're looking for the short version.

long version below:

"jimmy ecosystem" is more or less a shorthand I started saying to refer to the social system that keeps jimmy in his role of being "the worst one" (the butt of the joke, the one who goes out first, the obstacle to be surmounted, so on and so forth).

on the CC side of things, I think the imp and skizz podcast episode with joel put it best on how this came to be: jimmy is good at the youtube thing, and happy to be mocked or humiliated for the sake of making content. He's your guy for any gag, there's no wonder why he plays the goofy antagonist for so many of the POVs in esmp2.

but this creates a. very strange and sad effect when you look in from the perspective of character interpretation. esmp2 jimmy, for example, by being the bad guy in so many people's stories (especially when he really hasn't done much at all to earn the mockery he gets) feels more upsetting when you're watching his POV and it seems like no matter where he goes he gets mocked and bullied.

it carries over to almost every series: life series jimmy specifically gets this very clearly shown through his knack for being out first.

in a way I almost see the ecosystem and its effect on Jimmy (and Jimmy's performance) as an alternative school of thought to the canary curse. Both are concepts that explore Jimmy's "badness" being something forced upon him rather than something innate or entirely his failings as a player/person. Except while the canary curse ascribes the blame to nebulous concepts like The Watchers, the ecosystem puts the blame squarely on the people surrounding Jimmy who work at keeping him down. (<-- not that people can't like both ofc)

I used the term "ecosystem" because 1. it sounded funny and 2. it was what I felt like was the most fitting term, since the ecosystem especially when applied to the life series isn't so much people poking jimmy for fun but rather that and using it directly to their advantage to life themselves up. If Jimmy isn't out first, someone else will be, it might even be you, and you wouldn't want that so it is genuinely incentivized for you to keep Jimmy down as much as possible. This part has always been a bit heavy on the headcanon territory since historically the worse performing players are the ones much kinder to Jimmy, but it's definitely something to look at case-by-case.

Outside of literally his performance in the life series, I and others have also used The Ecosystem quite a lot to refer to Jimmy's relationships, mostly those with other men. Since Jimmy loves to do flirty bits, it spawns a lot of romantic plotlines, and when conjoined with the aforementioned inescapable bullying bit it gets... Weird, when you write about the characters.

With the exception of Tango, all of Jimmy's popular ship partners frequently hit, berate, mock and humiliate him, but all in their own special and unique ways. But one thing that tends to stay the same is that their relationships are nearly always more built on what the partner desires to get out of Jimmy.

I could go on but essentially: the ecosystem acts to me as an exploration of the intersection of skill at the game and worth as a person, as well as the themes of masculinity and gayness that I've found tend to pop up again and again in Jimmy's story. If you choose to read it as a story, of course.

Those initiated into the Ecosystem (Joel, Scott, Martyn, Grian, Fwhip, Sausage) have an understanding that Jimmy plays a certain lowest rung role in their social order and work to maintain that order for their own benefit (NUANCE button may be pressed here especially re: those first three). Those outside of the Ecosystem view it as a natural order they shouldn't disturb, sometimes even catching onto certain beliefs, e.g. "Jimmy is worse than everyone else" and internalizing them (Etho is a good example with how he was more or less Jimmy-neutral at the start of the life series and by the time SL/WL was happening he very casually says stuff like "oh, it's just Jimmy,"), few are completely oblivious to it and the fact that bullying Jimmy is what they Should Do socially but still will join in when prompted (Tango and Scar are very good examples).

If you've noticed that I've only listed male players, that is very much on purpose since even though there are women very much aware and participating in the ecosystem -- lizzie being the biggest example -- their involvement is, at least to me, noticeably a different flavour compared to the guys. Which I suppose makes enough sense with how much of it feels like a pseudoscientific wolf pack macho dynamic (and it probably doesn't help that they are entirely immune to the gay bits). Women in the Jimmy ecosystem is probably an entire post on its own, Lizzie alone could probably get quite a few paragraphs out of me.

anyway. very funny also to me to imagine jimmy as some sort of amoeba.

[nishirikiluv]

Twisted Love

Strange Encounter

pairings: yandere!jay x reader

chapter warnings: fear, drugging, a bit of noncon, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: sorry for taking so long to post this! I hope everyone enjoys this, I love feedback so please feel free to let me know what you think! This is my first series as well so I will do my best to make it a good read :) This is not proof read btw so I apologize for any spelling mistakes or other errors!! 🥲

masterlist | chapter 1 | next

It was nearly 1am and you were still in the office finishing up your work. All of your coworkers left around 10pm and the only sound filling the office now has been the click clacks of your keyboard. You haven't taken a break once today, not to eat, get a drink of water, nothing. There was some commotion earlier over a handsome new hire but you didn't have the time to worry about it. The only thing on your mind was finishing this project.

You had been assigned as a group leader for the first time since you started working here. If everything went well you could end up being promoted, so you were determined to not mess anything up.

You had been feeling hungry for a few hours now so you decided that a break would be okay if it was very short. When you got up from your chair you only then noticed how eerie the office looked when it was dark and empty like this. You pushed that thought aside and went to grab your unopened lunch from earlier. It was just some instant ramen and a bottle of soda.

You quickly made the instant ramen and sat back down at your desk to eat. Of course. you didn't want to waste too much time, so you worked a bit while you ate. Suddenly, a strange sound rung out through the large building. It sounded as if it came from afar, maybe not even the same floor you were on. Goosebumps rose on your skin and you suddenly felt extremely uneasy.

You quickly slurped the last of your ramen tossing it away, opting to finish your work tomorrow when people are still present in the office with you.

You made your way down the long narrow hallway to get to the elevator. The already dim lights flickered off and on, between flickers you could see what seemed to be a figure at the end of the hallway. After another moment, the lights settled and you realized there was someone else here with you.

You were completely struck by fear and your body froze up. The figure made its way towards you slowly. You wanted to run but you couldn't get yourself to move. The more he came in to view the more your anxiety heightened, his face was unfamiliar to you but you wondered how he could've gotten in if he didn't work here as well.

It was only a moment more before he stood directly in front of you. He seemed to tower over you, your eyes were leveled with his chest. The strange man reached his hand out to you. "Hello, I'm Jay. Nice to meet you."

What the hell?

You then looked up at him to see quite a good looking man. His facial features were chiseled and his hair was blonde and looked soft and silky. His eyes bore into you in a way that had the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up.

"Are you just going to stare at me? Or are you going to introduce yourself as well." He gestured to his hand that was still awaiting your handshake.

You hesitantly took his hand in yours to shake it. His grip became uncomfortably tight but you gulped down the anxiety that started to rise. "I'm... Y/n. Um it's late, I should probably head home now." You forced a smile, pulling your hand from his and rushing down the hall, not giving him another chance to speak.

He turned to watch you. His eyes never left you through your entire walk down the hallway until you entered the elevator. The lights flickered again as he stood in the hallway, a sinister smirk painted across his face.

It won't be long now, my love.

You rushed home as fast as possible, triple checking the locks on your doors and windows. You don't know what this extremely uneasy feeling was, but you wanted to avoid that man at all costs.

You tried not to think about him and chose to change and get into bed. His face kept appearing every time you closed your eyes. You'd even been startled awake so many times by phantom sounds of his voice calling your name.

You got up to grab a cold bottle of water. You weren't sure if it was paranoia but you heard a cracking sound coming from your room where you'd just left. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen, holding the water bottle under your arm and slowly approached your room.

You took a deep breath before slowly opening the door. You looked everywhere and there was no one to be found. You were relieved but you felt embarrased for hearing those mysterious sounds all night and ruining your sleep over them. You also weren't able to finish your project and that bothered you even more.

You laid down, attempting to sleep once more. Of course having the same outcome and not being able to get enough rest.

Before you knew it your alarm was ringing and it was time to get up and get ready for work. You rushed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and haphazardly applying your makeup. You could see dark circles under your eyes but you were too tired to care and the throbbing headache you had was an additional factor to your lack of energy. You quickly got changed and rushed out of the house to get to work.

When you arrived at work you heard more commotion of that new hire. You couldn't have cared less until you caught sight of him. You could see everyone crowding near the desk he was working at. He payed them no mind, just focussing on getting tasks done. Thats when it hit you, it all suddenly made sense. Jay was the handsome man everyone was talking about. That's how he got in last night.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at him as well until he looked up and his eyes met yours. You snapped out of your trance and hurriedly got situated at your desk. After a couple moments he was behind you, spinning your chair to have you face him. You jumped in your seat with a gasp, grabbing onto the arms of the chair. "Jay- What are you-" "I'm joining your group for the project, our supervisor told me to let you know." You looked around seeing the shared whispers between your co workers. You never liked attention, it made you anxious. "You could've told me that without scaring the shit out of me." You rolled your eyes turning your chair back around, but he stopped you. "Is.. there something else." He nodded. You stared at him, shifting uncomfortably and waiting for him to speak. His eyes traced over you, leaving you with the same feeling from the night before.

He leaned closer to you, causing you to back up and leaving you pressed into the desk. His face was inches away from yours and your heart was pounding in your chest. His eyes scanned your face and he softly chuckled, "Stay late after work today, Y/n."

You couldn't formulate a reply, not that he would've waited for one anyways. He left you stuck to your desk and returned to his work without another word. You took a deep breath and gathered yourself, turning back around. You sat idle at your desk for a while.

"Y/n, what was that all about?" One of your coworkers sat at the desk next to yours with a judgemental look on her face. "What? Oh, you mean Jay. Nothing, he was just letting me know he's going to be part of my group for the project." She sighed, "Ah that makes so much sense!" She turned away to her group of friends. They all whispered loudly enough for you to hear. "Of course it was just because of work," one of the girls scoffed. "obviously he wasn't interested in her, shes not that attractive." You rolled your eyes, ignoring their remarks.

You glanced up to see Jay looking over at you. You tried your best to ignore the feeling of his gaze but at one point you'd had enough. You made your way over to the restroom just to have a few minutes without being watched. What's his deal?

You carried on with your day, zoning out everything around you. Once it hit 10pm, everyone began packing up their things and leaving.

"Y/n." You looked up to see Jay hovering over your desk. "Ah, Jay.. you'd asked me to stay late after, right? " He nodded, taking the seat next to you. He pulled your chair in front of his, you sucked in a breath making eye contact with him now. "Is... is this about work..?" He chuckled, placing his hand on your knee. "Of course, I'm just curious about the project." He rubbed your thigh, causing your body to go stiff beneath his touch. "Jay- I-" You quickly grabbed his hand, forcing it to stop. "I have to go." You stood up grabbing your bag and heading for the elevator. He followed shortly after you, his steps matched your pace. He walked slower when you slowed down and he walked faster when you sped up. Once you were inside the elevator you rapidly pressed the button waiting for the door to close. Unfortunately you weren't quick enough, right before it closed he swung his bag through the small gap causing the doors to re-open.

You gasped and harshly pushed your back against the wall of the elevator. He slammed his hands on either side of your head. The dark look in his eye made shivers run down your spine. "You know, it was quite rude how you left just now." You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes welled up with tears formed by fear. You weren't able to speak, he didn't seem to mind your lack of reply though.

You felt uncomfortable by the close proximity between the two of you. The ride in the elevator felt like an eternity to both you and him, for different reasons though of course. Neither of you were able to take your eyes off each other. For you, it was fear. For him, it was lust.

The elevator finally came to its stop, the door opening. "I'II let you go now. Baby. But we'll talk about this later." He left a soft kiss on your forehead before exiting the elevator. You were left with a single tear rolling down your cheek.

You eventually made it home, but of course you were pretty shaken up. You felt so dirty. The second you put your things down you got into the shower. The steaming hot water was all you needed right now. You took a nice long shower and prepared to sleep.

You sat on your bed checking your missed messages when a loud thump was heard. It sounded like it came from your balcony. You got up and peeked through the blinds but there wasn't anything there, so you sat back down. But it happened again. And again. And again. This time you went outside, you looked below, to the sides, and above. But there was nothing. What the hell is going on?

You leaned against the railing, looking out at the street. It seemed to be peaceful, the road wasn't too busy, and the sky was full of stars. It would have been a perfect night

You took a deep breath getting ready to go inside when a hand suddenly clasped over your mouth. You kicked and screamed into the hand. The person's other hand held tightly onto your waist to prevent your thrashing. Their hand was removed from your mouth for less than a second before a cloth was pressed back against it. You tried prying it off but their grip was too strong and so eventually, you lost conciousness.

You woke up on the floor of an empty room with white walls. It was dark but not to the point where you couldn't see. You sat up holding your head in your hands, you felt groggy and had a painful headache.

You looked around the room but there were no windows and no way out other than a single door that you assumed would be locked.

As if on queue you heard the locks being opened and someone came through the door. The lights flipped on and your breath hitched in your throat. "Jay..."

"Hello, Y/n." His saccharine smile made you feel sick. "Why did you bring me here." He knelt down in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Isn't it obvious, I wanted to see you." You pushed his hand away, "Well I don't want to see you." He cooed at you, lifting his hand back up to caress your cheek. "One day you won't feel that way anymore." You pushed him away again but this time he wasn't having it. He pinned you against the cold floor, holding you by your waist. You pushed at his shoulders but he wouldn't budge. His eyes studied every inch of you. Oh how he loved to see you vulnerable like this beneath him. You felt his lips on your neck and immediately you were kicking and punching. He had no trouble holding you down, he liked it more when you put up a fight.

He only stopped when he heard your soft frustrated sniffles. "Shhh Baby, It's not that bad. You'll get used to me." You shook your head, holding back a sob. Jay got up leaving you on the ground. He left the room momentarily, but came back within seconds. He got down and pulled you in for a hug, inhaling your scent. You were too tired to fight him this time, he could tell, so he placed a short peck on your lips while he could. After that you felt a small poke in your neck and you were out like a light.

You woke up to your usual alarm. You shot up looking around, feeling distraught. You were in your bed in your room. But you could've sworn you were with Jay? You had been very stressed with anxious thoughts after the incident in the elevator so could it have been a dream?

It just felt so real..

[teamchasezwrites]

Second Chance (1/3)

Word Count: 3,724

Characters: Damian Priest/Unnamed OC

Genre: Romance

Tags: Anxiety, Waffling, Creative Licensing on Real Events, Stars Align, Kissing

Summary: Some people are worth a second chance. (A Wrestlemania XL Night Two fic)

Author’s Note: This was initially supposed to be a simple one shot. Then it morphed into a second part in Damian’s POV. Then finally a 3rd part. An error on my part with writing Damian not involved in night 1, but I had already written part 1 and most of part 2 before I realized and liked it too much to change. I did watch Damian’s doc but any errors in his road to WWE timeline are on me and creative licensing. This is written with an unnamed female lead as I tried to make it x reader, but I’m not very good at writing in the first person.

Part II Part III

The atmosphere was electric. Lincoln Financial Field held over sixty seven thousand screaming Eagle fans weekly during the fall. Usually she was one of those Eagle fans screaming herself horse from way up in section 243 at the coach to run the damn ball. She was still smarting over their epic collapse five months later when she thought they were Super Bowl bound finally ready to take the Chiefs down but alas…

She shut down that anger like she had earlier when she felt the need to raise her finger at the stadium as she was walking in. Of course across the parking lot, Citizen’s Bank Park loomed where the Phillies went down with a whimper in the playoffs. In order to save her sanity, she didn’t even look toward the Wells Fargo Center. She did however stop to take a photo with the Nick Foles statue.

Thank God for St Nick.

Or Big Dick Nick.

Tonight wasn’t about sports teams and their ability to continuously raise your hopes only to dash them in the end.

No.

Tonight was about a different hope. Though her heart still had the ability to be broken into pieces like in playoff ball.

With sports, there was always next year.

With love you tried to catch that flame and ride the magic. Hopefully forever. When the magic ended with love, hearts moved on to someone else.

With sports teams you went down with them to the bitter end.

“Jesus Christ I hope it’s warmer tonight.”

She looked to the seat next to her where her sister stood in front of the steel folding chair with the Wrestlemania XL logo. She held her phone in the air, taking a video of the crowd, the music, and the atmosphere.

“If it’s like it was last night, I’m leaving.”

“The fuck you will!” Her sister snapped at her as her fingers tapped over the phone screen. No doubt posting the video to her Instagram. “Do you know how much Bill spent on these tickets?”

Bill, her sister’s second husband. Bill, who was nearly twenty years older than her sister. Bill, who worked in the financial district in New York City and made it his mission to spoil her sister. She was sure her sister loved him in a safe, older man kind of way. He provided for her, gave her security. Random trips to Italy. After her disaster of a marriage to her first husband, she deserved it.

“I nearly lost a toe last night!”

The stadium wasn’t covered like most NFL teams seem to be learning toward when trying to get their cities to foot the bill for a new one. The Linc was open aired as they came. It provided views of beautiful sunsets and planes coming into land at the airport just down 95. Depending on the side you sat on and the time, the sun roasted you alive. It also rained on you if you weren’t lucky enough to have a seat under a cover. It also provided no shelter from the cool temperatures April always brought to the Northeast. Where winter liked to hang on as long as possible before it released its grips to spring and the blistering summer.

“I think I saw some Cody Rhodes socks at the merch tent.”

She side eyed her sister not finding the comment funny. She made sure to bring a pair of gloves and a toboggan. She almost brought a throw as well, but decided not to. If the second night was anything like the previous night, she would be spending more time on her feet than huddled in her chair.

“Probably just as well,” her sister grinned. “You shouldn’t be wearing someone else’s merchandise.”

She was saved at having to reply when the opening festivities started. As the National Anthem was performed, she barely heard the words, mouthing in reflex with her hand over her heart. The crowd cheered at the conclusion as music hit the speakers. Inside the ring, a pretty black woman smiled over the crowd as she announced the special guest, Stephanie McMahon.

Nerves built in her stomach and continued to roll and twist into knots as the first wrestler, Drew McIntyre made his entrance with bagpipe players lining the stage. Their sound echoed through the stadium. It wasn’t until the stage filled with members of the Philadelphia String Association members and their instruments and outlandish outfits did she lean over to her sister.

“I think this was a bad idea.”

She was nearly drowned out by the music on stage and the crowd singing rolling “ohs”. She learned last night it was just what they did with the next wrestler.

“What?” Her sister’s head snapped toward her as she looked away from the stage.

“I said,” she paused as the crowd roared with cheers. Looking up at the big video screen above the ring, she saw Seth Rollins made his appearance. Dressed outlandishly in an outfit that fit right in with the Mummers surrounding him. “This was a bad idea.”

“I heard that. I was just giving you time to change it.” Her sister pursed her lips in annoyance. Or disappointment. She wasn’t sure which. Being ten years younger, she was used to receiving those looks throughout her life from her sister.

“Be real.” She sighed.

“I am.” Her sister turned away from the ramp Seth was currently making his way down. “You were excited when I told you I got tickets.”

“I was. I am…” She insisted.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Look around Sis,” she waved her hand around her acknowledging the thousands of people packed inside the stadium, the cheers, the lights. “You think with all this, he’ll notice me? Let alone recognize me? It’s been so long…”

Ten years.

Ten years since the man she thought she’d marry, create a family with, would love forever, up and left her.

‘This isn’t working anymore.’

The words crumbled her heart and stole her breath. She’d been imagining her future with him and he was leaving her behind.

“You never know.” Her sister shrugged. “You caught his eye before. Who’s to say you won’t catch it again? Besides, I’m tired of listening to you wallow after another failed date with yet another guy who failed to measure up to Luis.”

Well…

She turned away from her sister to stare at the ring where Seth and Drew were currently locked together in their match for the championship belt Seth currently held. From the rumors she read online from various social media sites, Luis – Damian Priest – was going to cash in his Money in the Bank briefcase that assured him a title match.

“It has to work.”

She turned her attention back to her sister. “Why’s that?”

“These tickets were cheaper than getting that tattoo removed.”

Ignoring her smirk, she looked down at her left hand. There, on the inside of her ring finger over the second knuckle toward the third, stood Luis’s name written in a delicate script font. The tail of the s making a small heart.

“Can’t imagine any man wanting to slide a ring over another man’s name,” her sister said dryly.

The tattoo had been part of a drunken night nearly three years after their break up. Her roommate at the time was an aspiring tattoo artist. She wasn’t sure what led to the tattoo – the night remained a black hole in her memory. She woke up the next morning on the living room floor with the kind of hangover she hadn’t experienced since her first year of college. The pain in her head matched that on the pain on her hand where a fresh tattoo sat on redden skin.

Concealer became her friend. She carried it around like chapstick. One in her purse. Another in her car. The desk at her old job. A tube in the drawer of her bedside table. Even one laying on the coffee table in her apartment. All to hide the name of the man she never got over. Even now, the ink was hidden beneath a layer of classic concealer.

Her mind wandered during the match thinking about Luis and how long it’s been since they shared the same space. How different he looked in his appearance now compared to then. The cut of his hair. The trimmed facial hair covering his cheeks. The numerous tattoos covering his arms, chest, and back. His muscles more defined and cut. The added muscle weight making him appear bigger than before.

The ringing of the bell drew her attention back to the match. Drew McIntyre was standing victorious in the ring with the gold championship belt hoisted high in the air with one hand. The crowd roared in celebration. She could see a dejected and limping Seth Rollins making his way back up the ramp sans the belt he wore to the ring not that long ago.

She couldn’t help but feel letdown, a sagging feeling of sorrow eclipsing her body while thousands cheered in happiness around her.

This was supposed to be when Damian cashed that briefcase in. But he never appeared. Did all the articles and tweets she read get it wrong? How could Damian make an appearance now? The match was over. Drew won. In a second or two, Drew would leave the ring and make his own way back up the ramp. The show would continue. The window to see Damian gone.

Her thumb unconsciously rubbed over the inside of her finger, right over Luis’s hidden name.

Disappointment set in. She knew it was a chance nothing would happen. Even if Damian came out, there was no guarantee he would see her anyway. Though she would be terrified standing in the ring with thousands of people staring at her, she imagined for him the people all blurred together. Seeing them but without seeing them.

“Oh Damian is definitely cashing in!”

She tuned an ear to the conversation behind her. It took everything she had to not turn around and pepper the person with questions. How did he know!

“Oh yeah!” Came a laughing response. “He’s spending way too much time fucking with Punk.”

The video screen above the ring showed Drew now standing on the announce table. She couldn’t make out the words, but she bet it was trash talking a guy sitting in the office chair wearing a headset. She didn’t know who he was. Her deep dive into the briefcase and Damian didn’t include other wrestlers and whatever beef they may have with each other.

The Scottish music cut off as Drew was knocked off his feet. The crowd went wild as they stared chanting “CM Punk” as the wrestler continued his beatdown of the new champion.

The lights on the housing area, lining the ramp, and at the top of the ramp switched from green to purple at the same time music blared. The crowd lost their minds and she swore she felt the ground moving.

“I told you!” Her sister grabbed her arm, her fingers squeezing tightly.

A blur of purple and black ran down the ramp in the midst of cheers. She found it hard to see with everyone standing, dancing around, and their arms in the air. She looked up at the screen and her heart stopped.

Damian.

She watched the whole sequence without breathing. Jamming the briefcase into Drew’s head. Handing off the briefcase to the referee. Picking up a beat down Drew from the ringside floor and tossing him into the ring. Him climbing into the ring and the ref ringing the bell.

It felt like it lasted hours.

Damian lifted Drew high above him with one arm and slammed him to the mat before falling over him in a pin.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rang and crowd’s roar strengthened once again.

“And here is your winner! And NEEEEEEW world heavyweight champion… Daamienn Preeeist!”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Damian on the TV high above the ring. Holding the title in one hand with both hands above his head in victory. He then flexed his arms down and let out a roar, the sound buried by the fans cheering.

“I told you!” Her sister shouted again, her hand still gripped her arm and she shook her with excitement. “Get over here!”

She was practically thrown into the fencing that created a barrier between the seats and the ramp. It moved slightly but she was able to regain her footing. Fans around her all stormed to the fence as Damian rolled from the ring. They screamed and shouted his name.

He appeared at the bottom of the ramp and she got her first unobscured view of him. He looked larger than life. The black leather gear he wore molded to his body like a layer of skin. His hair – much fuller than photos she’d seen of him – hung all over his shoulders in thick braided dreads, complete with purple and red scattered throughout.

Her heart thumped wildly but she was frozen. This was different. This was Damian. Not Luis. She didn’t know Damian. How could she expect him to react at seeing her? It’s been ten years… she looked different just like he did. He was a whole new person! He broke up with her for a reason.

This isn’t working out…

“What the fuck…”

She heard her sister mumble, but she was struck mute, she could only watch as he stalked up the ramp. The confidence she never knew he had exuding off him in waves.

“Damian I love you!”

Her eyes widened at the scream next to her. Her face grew warm against the coldness in the air. She could only watch as Damian’s eyes drifted from the top of the ramp toward the side… in her direction.

She could tell he was about to smile or wink in the direction of the proclamation. He’d probably done it hundreds of times. When their eyes met, his face morphed into shock. Recognition dawned in his eyes. She watched as his steps faltered.

“Smile you fucking idiot,” her sister elbowed her sharply.

She smiled.

At least she hoped.

It didn’t appear she had any control over any of her muscles at the moment. Screams grew louder around her and bodies jostled one another. She blinked and Damian was right there in front of her. His chest heaved with heavy breaths from the exertion and complete pandemonium. A slick sheen covered his bare arms. Taller than she remembered. Though his dark eyes – popping from the thin line of eyeliner outlining them – were the same. They stared directly into her eyes and deep into her soul. The crowd noise faded – muted in the background. The people around them blurred. It was just him.

“Luis…” she whispered and she wasn’t sure he heard until his eyes flared.

Then she was in his arms wrapped up tight. The corner of the belt dug into her shoulder where he still clutched it in his hands. The other end brushed against the back of her thigh. She loved being in his arms. His hold so tight offering a sense of security and protection. A feeling of home washed over her. Warmth radiated from him and she pressed her hands against the satiny spandex of the top of his ring gear. With a shuddering sigh, she relaxed into him.

“Fuck…” his deep voice reverberated through her body. She felt him tuck his head down, hiding his face from view. “I gotta go…” the words caused her arms to tighten as if she could keep him there forever. “Please stay. I’ll…fuck…just don’t go.”

She nodded her head and felt the squeeze of his arms one more time before he slowly pulled away. Her eyes met his, swirling with emotions. The dull roar of the crowd around them threatened their bubble.

In a quick movement, his hands cupped her face. His fingers were still curled around the black leather of the belt strap. The back of his fingers pressed into her check. His head lowered and he kissed her firmly and quickly. His lips disappeared in a flash and with a soft caress of his thumb over her cheek, he was gone leaving her breathless.

She watched as he stalked up the stage, the belt in hand to a group of people at the top. She recognized them from photos as part of the group Damian was in. He met them with his arms stretched wide. Two members dressed in black hugged him from either side, while another in bright white shoes jumped up from the front. Finally, a woman joined the foray. They bounced up and down as they all hugged. A moment later they turned to face the crowd, Damian standing tall in the middle. He raised his championship belt up high above him in both hands while the others raised their hands in victory. The crowd roared in celebration.

Then they were gone.

“So…”

She turned her attention from the empty ramp to her sister. Her sister had her arms crossed with a smirk on her face. One eyebrow arched and her head tilted as if to say ‘told you so’.

Her checks flushed with embarrassment as she took in the faces of the people around her. She ducked her head and moved back to her seat stuffing her hands in her coat pocket to hide the shaking. This time it wasn’t from the cold. She wasn’t feeling the low temperatures anymore. A warmness wrapped around her from the moment her eyes met Luis’s. She licked her lips, drawing his taste.

“Here,” a wipe came into view. She looked up to see her sister holding out a white towelette with one hand while the other was pressing the flap down to close the travel package of make-up remover wipes.

“What’s this for?” She stared at it questioningly.

“You’re obviously not gonna be needing that concealer anymore.” Her sister smirked and pressed the towelette in her hand.

She clutched the damp wipe in her hand. Her skin still tingled where he touched. She could still taste him on her lips from even the quick kiss they shared. She tucked the wipe into her coat pocket not making the move to reveal the finger tattoo.

“Chicken,” her sister murmured as the crowd jumped to their feet as the music for the next match started. “What did he say?���

She looked around, but the attention had diverted back to the ring. She still leaned closer to her sister just in case. “He told me to stay. Not to go.”

“Like stay here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess?”

As the night grew longer, nerves settled in her belly. The voice in her head grew louder.

‘He’s not coming.’

‘He was just being nice.’

‘You caught him off guard.’

‘He doesn’t want you anymore.’

It took everything she had to keep herself planted in her seat. Not to beg her sister to leave. To go back to the hotel and remember how his lips felt against hers. The memory of his arms around her.

“Miss?”

She almost missed the call, zoned out watching Logan Paul, who she recognized from YouTube, wrestle in the ring. Next time she couldn’t sleep, she would Google how a YouTube star not only ended up in a wrestling match, but was a champion.

Her sister nudge her breaking the zone she was in. Catching her eye, she followed the nod toward the barricade where a man stood motioning for her. Dumbfounded she pointed to herself. At the man’s emphatic nod, she stood and slid past her sister to the barricade.

“Yes?”

“You with Damian?”

“Well…I….” She stuttered until a kick to her foot caused her to blurt, “yes!”

“Here.”

The man handed her a folded up piece of paper ripped from a note pad. Before she could question, he was gone. Sneaking along the barricades ducking out of view.

“What is it?”

“A piece of paper.” She answered sitting back in her chair. The paper pressed tightly in her fingers.

“No shit,” her sister rolled her eyes. “What the fuck does it say?”

“I…I don’t know.” She stared at the white paper. Void of anything on the outside. Schrödinger’s cat stared her in the face. The words on the inside of the paper could be everything or nothing at all.

“Want me to read it?” Her sister offered.

“No. Just…” She pulled her closer to her as she turned her body toward her sister. Their knees touched and their bodies hunched to create a makeshift wall to block prying eyes.

She took a breath and slid her finger in between the flap and pressed it open. Slanted chicken scratch she knew so well greeted her.

I can’t get away. Meet me at Embassy Suites tonight??

The note ended with his phone number and was signed with just an L.

“The cost of these tickets were worth it after all.” Her sister elbowed her in a teasing manner.

“You don’t know that.” She read the note again, memorizing the number; different than she remembered. “He might just want to catch up.”

Her sister sent her a look. “Right. The kiss he planted on you was just to catch up.”

She blushed as a smile toyed with her lips. She folded the paper back along the crease and stuffed it in her coat pocket keeping it in her grasp.

“Are you gonna go?”

“How? We’re heading in the opposite direction.”

“I can drop you off.”

“Then I’ll be stuck there.”

“Would that be so bad?” Her sister wiggled her eyebrows.

No. Being stuck with Luis at a hotel wouldn’t be bad. Not at all.

“Who cares about logistics,” her sister continued. “I will drop you off after we leave here or you can take me back to your place and come back down. It doesn’t matter. Text him right now and tell him you’ll be there.”

She mulled over her sister’s words. She was right of course, not that she’d share that tidbit of information with her. Being able to be in the same space as Luis again? She couldn’t turn it down.

As the music hit for the final match of the night, she pulled out her phone.

‘I’ll be there.’

Next Chapter

[shinakazami1]

TSPUD: closer look at IOS / Free Trial / Paywall Ending

Me and @decomposten looked through the video of the new ending and here is the summary of our thoughts on it :^]

Table of Content: 1) The two doors room 2) The video 3) The Paywall (room next to it) 4) Ending thoughts

DISCLAIMER: This post talks mostly about stuff SHOWN, not said. If people would be into my analysis of the Narrator's lines, let me know :D (it's a long post - that's why Read more is used >:D )

1) The two doors room

Here, there are two different elements that I want to present.

First - the windows. Or - more important, the light coming from them. This is the ONLY part, in the entire series, that the lighting change comes from the windows.

At any other time in the games, the light change came from lamps, screens or untold spots (just like in the corridor as there are no external windows in there).

Based on the New New Content next to Infinite Hole, we assume these lights are scenery lights.

It's a neat detail to me - it is possible to have either LED options that change colours or a colour filter for the scene to work. But...if that's the case, one detail is wrong. And it's the whites of this scene.

While it's not as visible on the door, the papers and the reflections (noticed by deco) really show that this light does not work how it's supposed to. That could mean that instead of the typical lighting options, the Narrator might have overlayed red separately on the different objects and forgot to do it on some, making the light source possibly still red. It's a small detail but, to me, it only showed more how this Parable is just a playground for the Narrator.

Which, the vault in the floor only shows even more.

First - we've already seen a similar vault in one of the trailers. Though the construction is new - the closest resembling one I could find is in New New Content. it's possible Narrator added this in instead of having all the floors like that from the start. He either might be able to expand the Parable, or as we've seen in past, has some scrapped storage spots here and there he can reinvent later.

Now - onto the longest section of this post.

2) The video

That one single video is packed with a lot of content but, I will try to keep it coherent, mostly showing them and focusing on one part of the video the most.

Before we start, though - a quick shoutout to this blue drapery. They seem similar to the one in the Madness ending.

The Stage seems new, the only thing that resembles its shape is the Bucket Quiz stage.

The video brought two different interpretations from us. To decomposten, this video is so well done, it looks like someone else made it (no credits anywhere, too high of a production).

To me, however, this is the mix of his past video/presentation works that he's done in the past, showing his progress as a creator.

The last video we had made by him was Figley ending. It was the start of his editing journey, where he used Windows Media Editor. Everything else feels like it's been there. The same Stanley renders as usual. The usage of stock images (though that does feel more like Crowsx3 trademark), old movies with silly tone (some trailers), falling money, and much more. and of some weird sophisticated ref to an important and well-known painting (Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich, 1818).

I feel he's been just working on editing skills and I couldn't be more proud of him :]

Besides that - there are many writings and images worthy of discussion.

First - the content. As someone who made the Fernator AU Apple story, you won't be surprised how happy I was with the food mentions. This man knows about humans but probably doesn't exactly know what's edible. Or he's playing with us. Flavoured styrofoam takes the cake.

The Second - new features. A few are familiar ones (dog mode, theme of forgiveness, eternal contentment as the Bucket) but there are also some other ones. Yellows are typical RPG material (we know the Narrator is a fan), some foods and other game-related stuff. The guarantee resembles writing in the Mind Control facility but - that's a minor detail.

Both of these show how he understand the outside world but likes to play with it and us, as he calls us, the player, a friend. He's on the joke.

But then - the more choices. It's interesting that it only seems to have some chronological continuum. 2011 mod -> 2013 (red blue-door) -> TSPUD: New content -> Skip Button flower ending. But then, it gets to number 3 ending -> New content again -> Bucket Apartment -> Bucket in Expo -> Bucket Quiz -> and THEN returns to Skip -> Jump Circle (Expo) -> entrance to the Memory Zone -> Apple ROOM -> Final Skip.

I was trying my best to find some logic in this part of the video, in how he showed all of these. Here are my thoughts: 1) The Narrator gives a sneak peek to his past traumatic event, showing those who know that he is now above it. That's why this part has the most slides. 2) The Jump Circle, if you look at the video, is scratched out. Decomposten thinks it's due to no spoilers. And I feel that's plausible. After all - he rebranded that part of the game to himself. 3) The Memory Zone entrance is right between the Jump Circle and the same flowered Skip Button. It does serve, in a way, a tunnel between them. To him, both are a memory - he played this already. In his memory, there is a silly phenomenon - of the past that will never come, and the future, that had already been there. And - to me, this shows through the fact the Apple Room is next. Because it shows exactly that - a fake memory. He lived through all this and yet, once you play the game, he will experience it again, like before. Final conclusion: The 'More choice' segment is to show how scrambled his memory really is. He remembers things happening but as each story sits by itself, he tries to stitch it all together. He first made the game. Updated it's looks and then, out of nowhere, someone broke in. The flowers were his mind toughing up, trying to make something beautiful for Stanley. That's why the next two are in the Show category (Stanley making a presentation, and devs showing New Content). And to the Narrator, that's the Bucket. He shows his change and love for his story (Bucket apartment) and to Stanley (Bucket entrance) - who, as the story went, was there to press buttons (Quiz, Skip Button). The narrator wanted to open up to Stanley more. Through reusing ideas (Jump Circle), through safe spots (Memory Zone), mutual memories (Apple), and through freedom.

So, yeah. To me, this video shows his growth, not only as a person but as a creator. Glad he cracked that Premiere B]

But now, let's follow the arrows to the last element of this post:

3) The Paywall

This one is more self-indulgent cus the fact this fucking plant is here only makes me believe Fernator is real and in this essay, I-

Ok ok but, I will try to wrap this part quick. If you reached this part, you're a true soldier. Here have a cookie. 🍪

Anyway, here are a few interesting elements to me about this: - You resetting in the same room after he's done talking is the same like the 2013 Serious Room. Seems he used the mechanisms again. Good for him. - The picture on a wall shows room 430 - the 5-click achievement one that he was most joyful about. - Very lit room (4 lights for such a small space). - The walls: the og Serious room had blue walls. Thanks to help from @/Boz in the Crowsx3 Discord server, we found that the same stripped wall colouring is in the cargo room. But - if you remember the basics of colour theory, yellow is complementary to purple BUT some shades to get into blues. - the. The fucking flower. The hh. The. The... (pls look at my Fernator theory post explaining the significance of nature in the game)

CONCLUSION: This room is the opposite to a serious room - it's a kinder rendition of it. Maybe not the kindest but still, it seems more welcoming.

4) Ending thoughts

While this is more of scratch surface observation, I hope you can enjoy this silly ramble of mine :^] I'm glad to see that after 13 years, this game finally ended up where it was supposed to be - in a mobile form. The Narrator seems to have grown quite a bit and I'm proud of him <3

If you got here - thank you for spending your time on this :] And thank you decomposten for doing this with me.

[gotranting]

The push - Remus Lupin x female reader

I want to keep my stories on one blog. This is the same story as from my main tumblr, in case you come across it again.

The idea is...imagine Remus witnessing that your patronus has changed its form.

I'm missing older Remus stories, and I need to scroll way down to find them. Tumblr refreshes every so often and brings me to the first post. So I had enough and wrote a few things. Once again, maybe someone will like it...enjoy if you do <3. I plan on making a part two (one day...), and we'll see how that goes.

There are no warnings, except a larger age gap.

Imagine Remus seeing that your patronus has changed its shape. You were surprised as well. Whatever has been going on between you two was never given a name other than friendship. A denial of feelings is what I would call it.

For Remus it was also a feeling of not being enough for you. Of being too old for you. What could he possibly give you, he thought. Living from one paycheck to another? Never knowing where you will live next month? Having to suffer all sorts of slurs and insults once people found out he was the creature you chose as your partner? You had a life in front of you. He would not let you waste it.

And yourself? Apparently you were both presuming how the other would react without even asking for the other's opinion. There was a different pattern of thought in your mind, Of course you would not allow him to settle for you. Remus could do better than that. What could you possibly offer him? See, you believed that all your conversations were on surface level (they were not). You thought that once he would try to get to know you on a deeper level...he would find nothing there (Sirius teased him over how enamoured he looked every time you spoke). You did not see much worth in yourself at all. Oh, yes you hid that well. But, if you saw no worth in yourself, how could you possibly believe anyone else would find any. Remus would have spent hours proving you wrong if he knew. Just as you would spend hours proving him wrong.

There was another problem. To be with him would require of you to open up. And that thought alone frightened you. Yes, you two might have spent hours talking about everything. Or nothing sometimes. So, it is strange that it suddenly became something to fear. But perhaps for many it is not strange at all. Anyhow. If you suffered with such thoughts, why would you put Remus through all of that as well? He deserved someone better for himself.

Strange how similar you both were in that regard.

Well, apparently denial of feelings is how it would be between the two. Without a push, nothing would happen except longing gazes, and too long embraces when one came back safe from a mission. Or throwing oneself in front of the other to defend them against a dozen of dementors. It was the strongest patronus you ever casted. A bear that tore down every dementor which tried to get to Remus. Some got to you. Not many. But at least, Remus was safe.

As for that push - Well it just so happened, there was no need for long waiting. It's strange how fate works yes? I wish Umbridge had nothing to do to contribute to this, but sadly she did in a way. After coming to Hogwarts, she did a marvelous job at teaching the students absolutely nothing. With Voldemort returning, the students were vulnerable if there was no one to teach them how to properly defend themselves. Harry, Ron and Hermione had a brilliant idea. Dumbledore's army. Not everyone believed the Ministry's lies. Soon there was quite a few students joining the initiative.

All in all they planned it quite well. But it was always good to get a second opinion. So, when Harry came to the Grimmauld place, it only felt right to ask the three residents of the house for assistance. Sirius was there constantly. He didn't need any convincing. Spending time with Harry, breaking some school rules, aiding in fighting Voldemort...and getting to call Umbridge a cunt as much as he liked. ...He would have done so regardless. But still.

Remus was there at the insistence of Sirius. The last few months have been difficult after his previous colleagues found out what he was. He defended himself when a hex came his way before he left that shop. See, even with witnessing that, he still thought of himself as a monster. After Sirius found out, he would have it no other way than Remus staying with him. And if the previous coworker somehow got too ill from eating one of Fred and George's experiments well...the twins left their things around constantly. It was an honest accident.

The girl? Well, she had a home of her own. Small place. Hidden. Cozy and simple. Sirius insisted here as well. She didn't know why exactly. And she couldn't be at Grimmauld all the time. But she did stop by as often as she could. After finding out about the hexing, it was more than other members of the Order. Good thing that Sirius handled it (it was an accident I swear), or she would have used something far more darker.

With Harry's arrival it was the four of them in the house. Planning which spells would be the most useful ones to teach. Considering they had cleaned the attic, it was as good a place as any to let Harry practice those spells with their supervision. That way he could get a better feeling on what should he pay attention to.

Spell by spell. Expelliarmus. Reducto. Stupefy. Expecto patronum. The push.

„I think that is a break for me. Anyone wants some tea?“ Sirius asked after an hour of dueling. James would be so proud of Harry. Remus was leaning back on one of the tables observing it all. Your dog was begging for food so you kept to the sidelines as well.

„I'm going back in three days. There is no time for breaks. I cannot let them down.“ Harry on the other hand was not backing down. He would not let anyone be unprepared. He would not let anyone lose a friend in front of their eyes. He needed to practice more.

„Harry, you will not be able to teach them anything if you fall unconscious from exhaustion.“

„Then I need to practice more, to endure as much as I can. The death eaters won't stop because I am tired. Voldemort will kill someone else while I am catching my breath!“

The others could only look at each other. One way or another, he would continue. With or without them. So it was decided, that while Sirius went to get tea, they'd practice something other than dueling. It was your time to step to the centre of the room. You agreed that you would cast the patronus. You would make random mistakes, which Harry would have to notice and correct properly. Remus would give him advice in case he missed something.

Considering she did well when casting a full bodied patronus, she didn't think there would be anything unexpected. First try, she moved her hand in a slightly different direction, which Harry noticed quickly. Second time, she didn't cast a powerful enough memory. Harry gave her some ideas. He would do well, they knew it. Third time, she decided to allow for some wisps to flow from the wand. Still not strong enough. Even here, Harry would give words of encouragement. She thought she saw Remus softly smiling in the corner of her eyes. She thought of that. The last time she saw him like that. It was after the Full Moon. Despite Wolfsbane, she found him pale in bed, wrapped up in blankets. With tea on his bedside table, she put a vinyl on. He mentioned he was fond of Cohen. He was a favourite of his mum's. A muggle store had that vinyl. She didn't have to think twice.

He mentioned that vinyl around six months ago.

If he had more strength in him, he'd get up and carry her with him to his bed in that moment. Nothing sexual. Just to hug her closer. To kiss her on the forehead. To nudge his nose to hers, until she gazed at him with that look. A look which left him thinking that it did not matter at all to her that he was a werewolf. Or 17 years older than her. Poor. Broken. At that moment he would know there was more to him. He'd nudge her nose once again until she blushed. Then he would press his lips to hers. And she would brush the hair away from his forehead. No, they would not let each other go. If only he had more strength. And courage.

She thought of him at that moment. At how she still managed to make him laugh to tears, even after that Full Moon. At how they both hummed to the songs. At what could be. The wisps got stronger this time. She saw the outlines of paws, only they were smaller this time. Strange. The whole bear seemed to be a bit smaller than it usually was. Remus's smile faltered, as he noticed what creature was forming in the room. The realisation was slowly dawning on her as well. It was not the bear she has come to expect, it was a wolf. She could lie to herself only so many times, but here was the proof. Right in front of him. A wolf making a circle around Harry. Coming to greet her dog. Harry was busy looking at the beautiful creature to notice two figures standing frozen in the room.

And sure, he hoped that it was him this wolf represented. She would not stop lying to herself, but she still hoped he understood now. What did each of them see though? He saw her carefree look fading. He saw her standing rigid in the centre. Was she ashamed? Angry? What if the wolf was not connected to him at all? He didn't want to meddle in her love life. If only to hide the jealousy of which he had no right to feel. What if there was someone with whom she felt as comfortable as she had with him the night that vinyl played. He had no right to wish it was him alone who would get to see her like that.

She saw him straightening up. She saw his smile fade. The clenched jaw. He was angry. A girl, barely out of Hogwarts fell in love with him. Just what he needed.

Sirius came up with tea. She was quick to apologize, saying all the practice made her a bit dizzy. Remus still stood next to the table. After a moment he excused himself as well. One could sense something went wrong.

„I suppose no one is in the mood for tea anymore. What happened here?“

„I'm not sure. The patronus appeared and right after they both left.“

A push needed to happen. However, that push can move events in any direction. Sirius had no idea what had transpired in that room. But he would do his best to find out.

[to-rise-above-monsters]

dear bertholdt.

Summary: Reiner left his overcoat in preparation for a meeting and asked Annie to get it from his room. Begrudgingly, she agreed. Though she immediately regrets it when a box of letters falls from the top shelf. Maybe regret isn’t all there is. She found something more.

-

CW: angst, canon compliant (so major characters death,, Bertholdt is dead<3), rba centric, can be read as romantic or platonic reibert but reibert nonetheless

Takes place post-timeskip (the second one, post-war), a few years into settling into ambassador life.

Apologies for any ooc, I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic in Annie’s perspective/focus,, I also haven’t written on her before and also haven’t written and posted in general for forever

(This was meant to be a comic and is so clear in my mind but I don’t have the time nor talent to execute it 😔)

Happy Birthday Bertholdt can’t believe ur dead ♥️

-

Reiner told her to get his coat. What that asshole didn’t tell her was how ridiculously high his coat hangers were. It shouldn’t have loomed over her the way it did. It was almost taunting, mocking her with its impossible height. They had probably raised Reiner’s closet bar for his big, hulking self and possibly lowered hers as some sort of unspoken courtesy. Annie sighed deeply, already regretting being here. Sure, tell the short girl to get your big ass coat from your tall ass closet. Embarrassingly, she jumped; she jumped a few times. If a glare could kill, there'd be holes burnt into the pockets.

Fuck off.

The stupid coat was simply out of reach. She could usually manage by grabbing the shoulder and lifting it from there but even then she couldn’t manage. She kicked the closet door in frustration, hard enough to make it rattle, and looked around for reinforcements. Somewhere nearby had to be a stool or something, anything, to make this easier. 

She found a tall chair and dragged it over with a bit more force than necessary. The legs scraped against the floor and that sound annoyed her even more. 

Finally, she lined it up, climbed up with a huff, and snatched the coat off the hanger in one triumphant, final fuck you. But as she jumped off the chair with her prize, she heard something else fall. A clatter, a shuffle, the distinct sound of things spilling. She grumbled and turned around.

If I have to do one more thing, I’m killing someone.

She cringed when her eyes fell onto the mess. Her jumping and kicking and overall exasperation now had a bunch of shit spilled on the floor from the top shelf of the tall closet. An old box, the size and look of a shoe box, had lost its lid and scattered papers everywhere. She at first started to snatch them up without discretion, just trying to stuff them back in. But a name caught her eyes.

Bertholdt.

Her fingers froze. She didn’t want to snoop. She would have killed anyone who went through her stuff like this. She tried to cast out the memory of seeing the name. She quickly tried to collect them all and put the box, along with this moment, far back into the closet. But there it was again, unmistakable.

Bertholdt.

Something came over her. An overwhelming wave, pulling her under before she could even name it. It felt so sudden, so heavy, all-consuming. She held the pages in her hands, her grip tightening unconsciously. 

The small, trembling pool she had collected seemed insignificant against the sheer ocean of papers spilled out before her. They spread across the floor like a map of emotions she wasn’t sure she wanted to navigate. And each one… each one bore the same familiar name.

Dear Bertholdt,

Her chest tightened, an ache spreading in places she thought she’d long since numbed. With a breath, she carefully placed them in the box one by one. It blurred past her, the same line repeated over and over. Her eyes couldn’t help but snag on the same arrangement of letters, the same handwriting. There were a hundred, maybe even more, all addressed… and dated. She paused.  

They had an order. 

Written at the top of each of them was a date. Everything was spilled all over the floor and each one was supposed to be neatly tucked away in order. She bit the insides of her cheeks.

Forgive me.

Dates flashed by. She tried to put them in order without reading any of its contents. It felt impossible, especially when there were letters that seemed to be multiple pages long. She tried to group them to the best of her abilities, organizing them by date and putting them in piles face down when she found the correct order. But words blurred past, recognizable phrases, handwriting that got shakier, years and years and years, consistent dating on every one.

“I miss you.” “I’m sorry.” “If I could go back…” “I wish you were here.” “I can’t forgive myself.” “You deserved better.”

Her breath hitched, the edges of the pages almost cutting into her fingers as she clutched them tighter. She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat, but it only grew heavier with every second she spent kneeling there, surrounded by years of unspoken… emotions; emotions she never knew she had.

When did I start crying?

A tear fell from her cheek and nearly hit the precious paper. An aching feeling had creeped into her body. Emotions she never really thought were there seemed to spill. She couldn’t name it. It felt like a sudden burn in her nose, the need to swallow a bitter taste, eyes blurring. She was drowning. 

30.12.854

The letter she held was dated shakily at the top. She’d seen that same date come up again and again. For a moment, she tried to remember if maybe New Years or any holiday around that time meant something to them; as warriors, they didn’t really celebrate holidays, let alone religion. 

She took a breath and put it in the 854 pile. She looked at the stack. 854. That would have been… that would have been the year of the rumbling. It would have been the year everything changed. 

And he never got to see it.

She looked at all of the piles she’d now made, how each represented a year. She tried to push any judgements or perceptions away from her mind. But some years piled higher than others. Three piles in particular. She gathered the final loose letters. 

Her mind drifted to her time in the crystal. The silence had been maddening, a suffocating void she couldn’t escape. She had been awake in that void, terrifyingly, agonizingly awake. The only light that had ever pierced through the endless dark had been Armin’s voice, Hitch’s chatter. Their persistence had saved her, kept her tethered to something beyond the emptiness. But it always puzzled her why they did it in the first place.

I know.

She placed the final letter. The paper felt different; crinkled and messy, rough and smeared. 30.12.850; old, the oldest one. She finally gathered all of them, stacking them neatly away in the box.  She stared at the box in front of her, now neatly packed, the letters arranged in quiet, solemn order. The shoebox felt heavier than it had any right to be. There was only paper within it. Something else weighed it down. 

I know.

She exited the room quietly, holding the coat tenderly in her hands. She gave it to him when they met in town without a single complaint. She never spoke about what she had found to Reiner or anyone else for that matter. 

Their now shared secret lay in a small box that once held shoes for a warrior.

[intramoon]

hi aj !! i have a question i dont want to sound rude please know im not trying to be rude. i came back to simblr after a long time and its been really hard not to get discouraged. :/ my account is really dead no one interacts with me anymore. stuff is so different. i remember you used to be kinda popular but how do you deal with people not interacting with you as much as they used to?? i dont mean that in a mean way!! i dont want to quit simblr but idk how to get back to how things were

Hi! Don't worry, I don't think you're being rude, I understand where you're coming from. ♡ My response will be long because I have a lot to say about the topic, hopefully, it will help you.

If you were mostly active when I was in my "prime" (assuming that's what you mean by "kinda popular"), like 2018-2021, things will never be how they were then. The community, trends, and how we interacted with each other was so much different, I don't think it will ever go back to how it was then. I am kind of happy about that. Although my relationship with that time on Simblr is nostalgic (despite being too young and miserable to enjoy it), I think the community is in a healthier place now (mostly). I have had to adjust to a couple of things since coming back. One is that the content looks different now.

In my "prime" people were just getting into editing (that was a time before ReShade). Heavy editing and experimental editing were really celebrated, partly because everyone was learning and learning from each other. We just wanted to see what was possible. Now, maybe partly in reaction to that trend and how demanding it was, people have found an appreciation for the base game, simple screenshots with really only ReShade/gshade, CAS screenshots, etc. Not to say the former doesn't exist anymore because it absolutely does and people have become truly incredible at it. In some regard, it is an acquired taste especially if that's all you do. I've thought to myself many times should I stop editing the way I do, does that impact the way people take in my content? Do I have editing blindness? lol I like how I edit, I enjoy the process and, even if I do have editing blindness, I like how it looks. Even being an alpha creator, they are fewer and fewer as people opt for MM and MMix. I've thought, do people really not like alpha content anymore? Even my story at times felt like it didn't fit into the current story ethos. I thought about stopping it. I bring that all up to say, when you're coming back to a very different Simblr it can feel like what you used to make doesn't "fit in". And it might not. I don't think that should be the goal. The community now is so much more diverse, content-wise, that anything you want to make is possible. If you sacrifice your artistic vision, you'll end up leaving again. You have to make what speaks to you, regardless of the other noise.

Two, you have to find your reason for making your art. For a moment, I really lost touch with what I was even doing here. I took some time to figure it out. I first started because I wanted to tell a story that talked about intimacy through the lens of a sex worker and someone who had no romantic or sexual experience. I wanted to do this without over-sexualizing my sex worker character and infantilizing my other character. I wanted to write some of the dialogue I was having internally. Way back when that was all I wanted to do, I didn't struggle with being seen as much because I was posting with a purpose. That purpose wasn't likes or reblogs, but to tell a story and have a conversation. Everything else came after. Anyone coming back (or looking for a reason to stay) has to find, within themselves, why they want to be here and what they want to get out of it. I promise you if you reconnect with that, posting will be easier regardless of the outcome.

I know I took a lot for granted way back when. Asks about me or my characters, comments, tags, and even people wanting to join me in a Discord server or stream. Sounds like we both, a one point, wish we could go back. That just means it's something to appreciate more now. You can be and make really whatever you want, which wasn't always possible. Maybe think of coming back as a small rebirth and trust that if you keep at it, you will find your people. I am still in the process of finding mine but I trust they are out there. If you're passionate people will feel it. Best of luck and I hope something in this novel helps you! ♡

[vanishingcherry]

Hi! I see the requests are open so can I get social media au for Ollie Bearman with camille pidoux as the y/n face claim? (I'll drop the detail of request and the face claim's intagram on the next one)

based on this request. hii! thank you sooo much for your request, i absolutely loved the details and tried to make it as perfect as possible.

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

(EXTRA)ORDINARY LOVE

liked by yourusername, mickschumacher and 84,975 others

olliebearman date nights with my love

view all 9,850 comments

olliefan1 this is like a hair appreciation post

formula1forever its the way we dont even know what she looks like but everyone is already simping over her

↳ olliefan2 its her vibes... theyre captivatingly powerful

olliefan3 I JUST WANNA KNOW HER NAME PLS OLLIE

olliesmysterygf we love someone who loves books

For as long as you could remember, Ollie Bearman had been in your life. Your parents claimed that the two of you met in 4th grade, but you could swear you had known him much longer. It was as though your brain was engraved with images and stories from his childhood, his old picture-books being your main source of entertainment at his home.

The two of you were inseparable growing up. Everyone gave up at some point, your parents, teachers and even friends. You came as a set, and that didn't change when you started dating.

Admittedly, you had been hesitant at first. You loved him, there was no doubt of that. It was clear as day to the both of you as well as everyone else. He loved you too, more than he thought possible. But his career prospects meant he would be far away from home majority of the year. Quite simply, you were afraid he would forget about you one day, leaving you behind, heartbroken and alone. Even as friends you found it hard when he left, it felt like the other piece of you was no longer there.

However, in classic Ollie fashion, he managed to convince you. Alongside a plethora of gifts and little notes, he made a promise to never do anything to hurt you or let you forget your worth. Till date he had kept that promise, not once giving you reason to worry.

The two of you were older now, no longer little kids running around in the backyard after school, but the intensity of your love was the same. Although you couldn't be with him in person all the time, you cherished the moments you could. You went on dates all the time, simple and quiet ones, but they were incredible nonetheless.

Ollie would regularly take you to bookstores, feeding into your love of reading. He didn't read much himself, and was perfectly content sitting back and watching you pick out things to read, looking over the back cover before bringing them back for him to hold. He didn't mind, he'd do anything for you. You were perhaps one of the few people in his life who had never used him for his fame, never befriended him with the sole purpose of scoring passes to a race. It was why he had vowed to himself to never lose you, he understood how rare it was to find someone who cared as much as you did.

Another sign of Ollie being perfect was the fact that your cat absolutely adored him. The moment Ollie entered a room, your cat would forget about everything else entirely, although you understood why, you sometimes wished you could do the same as well.

You loved him, and he loved you. That was all you knew, and all you needed to know.

liked by yourfriend, olliebearman and 234 others

yourusername a little bearman appreciation post (because no matter what, ill always love you)

view all 56 comments

yourbff HIS HAIR IN THE SECOND PICTURE

↳ olliebearman ITS HELMET HAIR LEAVE ME ALONE

olliebearman thank you my love ❤️

↳ yourusername ❤️

yourfriend you guys are so cute together!

liked by yourfriend, arthurleclerc, kimiantonelli and 23,985 others

olliebearman so, so proud and so delighted to tell you that the love of my life got into cambridge! shes the genius out of the two of us, if you couldn't tell... i love you so much darling! ❤️

view all 8,475 comments

olliefan4 CAMBRIDGE? DAMN RIGHT SHES A GENIUS

f2fan ollie is a genius too, he was smart enough to get the prettiest person ive ever seen

↳ olliefan5 yes bcs i want that pink sweater so bad

olliefan6 he brings her flowers that so sweet

↳ bearboy and the way the flowers match her outfit too like this man thought of everything

liked by yourusername, arthurleclerc, f2 and 205,987 others

olliebearman it seems you have found her... so i present to you the most wonderful person in the world- my girlfriend yn.

view all 9,857 comments

olliefan7 not the emphasis on "my girlfriend" like that man knows were gonna try and steal her

yourusername thank you bebe

↳ olliebearman ❤️

↳ olliefan8 SHES COMMENTING ON HIS POSTS NOW

↳ olliefan9 yes cause we know who she is now

olliefan10 SHES SO PRETTY NO WAY

olliefan11 watch this account become a yn fanpage now bcs honestly i would do the same

[owlphibiaisthebest15]

Hi guys! I want to talk about a minor problem I have with Amphibia and how they could've been done better. I will not be talking about any of the big problems that people have already complained about, like Sasha and Marcy's lack of screentime, their character arcs, parents, nobody talking about Marcy after "True Colors", yada yada yada, because we don't need another post like that, and I want to keep this overdue rant as short as possible. This is based on my personal opinions along with a few others, but feel free to disagree with me if you want. But with further, let us begin...

Anne almost always gets way too easily forgiven for f*cking up.

Okay! This one may be a hot take because I have never seen another person complain about this. But this has been eating me away for MONTHS, and if no one else is going to say it, then I will. While this occasionally extends to some other characters depending on the episode. The one I want to talk about most is Anne. Now, at the start of the series, Anne was pretty much a jerk with a heart of gold. She was selfish, bratty, lazy, and irresponsible, but she did learn from the mistakes that she made and became a true hero by the end of the series. While some of these flaws and mistakes are not worth talking about, there are still others that are actually worse than what the show's narrative portrays them to be.

They may not be as bad as leading a toad army to invade the capital city, burying the only thing that could get Anne home, or sending your friends to another world on purpose. Anne has still made some pretty questionable decisions, even to the point where they often cross the line.

Here's a list of some of the worst things Anne Boonchuy has ever done from Season 1 and 2:

Breaking Hop Pop's favorite cane that also happens to be a keepsake of his father and grandfather all while making fun of him.

Manipulating Sprig into taking Bessie the family Snail on a Joyride without reading. Which is like someone taking a car out for a spin without a driver's permit.

Forcing Sprig to marry Maddie despite his obvious discomfort for Pizza Dough and later forces him to date Ivy while he's still engaged to Maddie.

Faking being sick to get out of farm duty, which led the Plantars getting sick themselves and even thought they were all going to die from red leg.

Slacking off while she was supposed to be protecting the frozen townsfolk, while aware of what happens to one of them while they're frozen. Which, of course, led to Polly almost getting eaten by a giant weasel.

Causes massive property damage with Polly while on the streets of Newtopia, and later breaks into Newtopia University in hopes of finding a rad college party. The second one was Polly's idea, but Anne had no problem going along with it.

A team effort along with her frog family. Sending a giant chicken to attack Wartwood. Which BTW can create tornadoes, breathe fire, and even turned their loved ones into stone, all because they forgot to buy everyone gifts. Sure, Anne was against the idea, but she still went along with it.

What do characters usually respond with when Anne admits her mess ups?! "It's okay! You're good! What you did was serious, but it doesn't matter that we almost died, as long as you learned your lesson."

Though Anne still at least got a lot better, as the worst things she's done in Season 3 were covering up some major plot points from her parents, robbing a museum to get a clue on how to find a way back to Amphibia, and tricking Blair the Balloonist into flying a hot air balloon. Though, the first one is still a little f*cked up, but she did have selfless reasons for doing these, and she came clean for 2/3 of these.

But still, 90% of this show is just a lighthearted slice of life cartoon, but when it shifts to its dark story driven and plot twisting side, this is where the narrative (and by some extent Anne herself) gets pretty hypocritical. It's pretty much when Anne messes up and lies to other characters. It's a simple error in judgment. But when other main characters such as Sasha, Marcy, and even Hop Pop do the same to her, first they gotta face hell for it, and then they get their redemption arc.

Yes! They did do some serious sh*t, and Anne had a right to be mad at them. But it seems that other characters are just not allowed to even stay mad at Anne when she does pretty similar sh*t. I mean, yes, she does try to make up for it, and yes, she admits what she's done most of the time, and eventually, she does become a better person from them. But so have Hop Pop, Sasha, and Marcy. But again, they didn't get the protagonists treatment. They got hurt and thrown around like ragdolls because of one or two big mistakes, and even that wasn't enough.

While Anne sometimes faces some consequences for her actions, like breaking Hop Pop's heirloom cane with HP giving her dish duty for a month (Cmon man! You should've given her way more than that!), gets banned from an arcade because she threatened to eat newt kids for cutting in line (which is not important), and most importantly, gets stranded in Amphibia after being peer pressured by her friends to shoplift it, all on her 13th birthday. Which I guess was enough for karma itself to feel so bad for her that she will hardly ever worry about facing any lasting consequences for her misdeeds ever again. While karma beats the cr*p out of others who would dare lie and betray our precious protagonists, even when they have sympathetic reasons for doing so.

Speaking of, this leads to me to clarify something that some fans have misinterpreted since the beginning of the series. The flashback scene in the second episode, "Best Fronds," was intended to show where Anne's distorted views on friendship and some of her toxic traits come from. Not to justify every single bad decision Anne has ever made, like what some fans think.

While I'm not gonna say that Anne was just as bad as Sasha before Amphibia, as it does show that Anne had her own personal flaws that she had to get through without depending on her friends. Who were more enabling her flaws than causing them.

However, while the show does try to show that Anne wasn't exactly much better in their friend dynamic than they were. For the reasons I mentioned earlier, it instead paints Anne as the least toxic one or not being toxic at all. With them only making a handful of moments that show that even after their betrayals, Anne still isn't much better than them. But the usual wacky slice of life narrative in her character development episodes downplays the severity of her actions, with Anne only just getting an emotional lesson after nearly getting everyone killed, and some of the said lessons being brought up in a few episodes to test her character or as examples to show others how much she has grown.

Now, I'm going to do some comparisons between Amphibia and The Owl House. While there are several things that Amphibia did better than TOH and about an equal amount of things TOH did better than Amphibia. One of those things that The Owl House did better than Amphibia was the writers treating each and every character fairly. The characters make mistakes and learn from them without the narrative downplaying the seriousness of their mistakes, and it isn't always "Okay! You're forgiven! What you did was serious, but it doesn't matter that we almost died. You learned your lesson, and that's what matters." While it doesn't give other characters the short end of the forgiveness stick for doing similar sh*t. With that, it also makes the character arcs a little bit better, in my opinion.

However, I'm not saying that Anne's character development was bad or that Matt Braly is treating Anne like how some see Alex Hirsch did with Mabel. The show did alright with changing a bratty teenager with flawed views of friendship into a true and selfless hero. All of what I described seems to what TV Tropes would call "Protagonist Centered Morality," and if I'm being honest, but because of that reason, I don't find Anne to be the most appealing character to me. I'm sorry! I know that a lot of you love her, and she's the second most popular character in the show; with the first being Marcy (my favorite), but I don't even dislike her either. I just feel that the narrative could've done better in treating the characters more fairly, like how TOH did with their characters. I really want to like Anne more than I do now, but for what I described, it makes it kinda hard for me to.

That's it for my opinions on this. This was longer than I thought, so if you read it this far or read it at all. You either think that I have a point and should do more of this or my analysis stinks, and I should never speak my dumb mind again. I'll probably see how this goes either way. If anybody else here still cares about this show.

[zinphandel]

Danny Brown- Atrocity Exhibition

hello phannie PHUCKING nation! everyone’s favourite series is BACK BABY!

its time for another kate rates dans favourite albums! Today we are listening to Atrocity Exhibition by Danny Brown

Initial thoughts?

This is a funnnnn and exciting one! Danny Brown has been someone I've been wanting to get into more, I'm not totally clued up on danny brown but he feels like someone I will really enjoy bc this seems soooo up my street. Ive defo heard some songs before but this is not my area of expertise!

Is this a first time full album listen through?

NO ITS FUCKING NOT. I listened and reviewed this album last year when i was originally doing this series. I wrote a full (really good) review, scheduled it to post and tumblr just fucking DELETED IT 😭😭😭😭!!! SO. we are going a re listen :) anyway. lets get listening bitches

Listen through:

•downward spiral is a perfect introduction to the album. the soundscape is haunting and literally makes you feel like you are falling into that downward spiral. song-omatepia? (also nine inch nails reference!)

• it’s weird to me that i haven’t actually listened to much of danny brown, it feels like it would be sooo up my alley

• obsessed with the instrumentals in the second track tell me what i don’t know danny brown is a master at conveying emotions through the mixture of sounds

• danny browns voice reminds me SO much of andre 3000 (specifically like stankonia era outkast andre)

•sexy basslines make me horny and there is an abundance throughout this album

• really doe is defo the highlight of the album so far. kendrick feature always make every song 10x better and EARLLLLL!!

• this is a veryyyyy sexy album :3

• ain’t it funny is fucking FANTASTIC!!!! what a bouncy brilliant track. the beat is absolutely next level

• omg how have i literally JUST realised that ‘atrocity exhibition’ is a joy division reference!

• this album STILL feels fresh, even though it came out nearly 10 years ago. so funky!

• REALLy like really enjoying the instrumentals on these tracks. such an interesting mixture of jazzy, punky and hip hop influences. i’m such a slut for rap that doesn’t just use the same shite reused trap beat and has an interesting and unique perspective sound wise. danny brown is a fucking master at this.

• white lines sounds like ur brain on cocaine lol - the album feels and sounds like that descent into drug fueled madness, chasing that high and running from a comedown

•the ominous piano and erratic electronica of pneumonia make listening an EXPERIENCE, it’s wild but fun as fuck (feels slightly death gripsy to me!!) “lick the clit and she did the macarena” is a fucking insane bar im crying

• love the complete switch up to dance in the water!! this album keeps you on your toes and requires an immersive listening experience

• from the ground with kelela feels soupy and sludgey and sexy and sensual! what a voice she has!!

•this is absolutely my favourite type of hip hop. fun, experimental and insane

•mate the production on this album is just fantastic - it feels SO post punk inspired 🤩🤩🤩

•need to hear when it rain mixed into a sexy techno set literally as soon as possible

Favourite song(s)?

really doe, ain’t it funny, pneumonia

Least favourite song?

probably ‘today’ it’s not bad AT all. just everything else is so banging

Would i listen again?

fuck YES! i don’t remember enjoying it this much on the first listen i did a few months ago. such a fun, engaging album that truly takes you on a journey, the PRODUCTION is fabulous!!!!!

Do i recommend?

✅✅✅✅ yes! can’t wait to listen to more

What would I rank it out of 10?

9/10

guysssss ive missed doing these! i hope you've missed them too because they are coming back FULL FORCE! see u tomorrow for another one!

read my 2015 reviews here

read the rest of the my 2016 reviews here

listen to the playlist of highlights from dans favourite albums here

[creekwritersblog]

The Fear of being Censored Or Unaccepted

Today's post is something I'm so touched about. This topic is something so close to me as a writer, as a reader, and a Queer myself, I am a proud member of the LGBTQIA+ community and I am standing tall in front of everyone. I spent so many years fearing this part of myself because of the judgment of people, I lost my last job for it, but I do not care, because I think if someone judges a human being only based on who they are sleeping with, then I prefer to be a home mom, than break my back for someone who doesn't value my capabilities as an accountant, a proofreader, Translator or the Graphic Designer I sweat seven shirts to be. I know my value and I won't bow again in front of someone else lying to myself just because some people do not like it, family, bosses, or anything else.

Said that I am working with other marvelous people on a writing project as you saw in my other profile @reginakoilos, and some days ago we had a conversation about censorship. It scares the hell off many people, and it worries a lot of people, but I think that this is still a free World, we have rights, we have creativity and NOBODY can tell us what to write about.

Sadly I've passed this before and I've learned that the only way to avoid it and fight it is to stand tall and not bow.

If I can I will give you some pieces of advice right here:

Don't lose yourself: The first rule is to be loyal to yourselves, if you want to write about LGBTQIA+, Hetero, or Whatever you want to write about Just Do It! Nobody can say to you what to or what not to write. But always remember To Be Respectful.

Auto-Publish: This method of publishing will be your best friend, at least at the start. You will be able to gain money writing what you love, as you love, and Because you love. You won't need a Publisher at the beginning. Besides Internet is way too Vast to censor each and every "uncommon" content!

Marketing: This is the rule of the rules, advertising your product will help you gain public and start your little niche of readers.

Stay away from people who ask you to write only about "common" couples: Nobody has to ask you that, NEVER, because creativity is something subjective and doesn't need to be stopped by those requests. Most of all because with that people can start to feel a bit uneasy and unaccepted.

Never accept compromises regarding the sexuality of your characters: I don't know how you see that, but I honestly consider my characters as a little piece of my mind and they are fruits of hard work and deep thoughts and you must be strong enough to fight for what YOU created with a lot of effort and patience.

Whatever comment will come your way, remember: Only constructive Criticism must be taken into consideration, all the rest is trash and must be something not to consider.

Another topic I came across during this past week, is the horrendous practice of Shaming others, for their diversity, and their way of choosing Characters and making them appear in some way instead of another. I mean, we are in 2025, how can it be possible to read comments of hate like that? 1. Every character is a creation of the writer and the latter has ALL and EVERY right to make the OC however they decide.

2. Why get so mad if someone writes about a chubby character instead of a skinny one? Cannot it have the same appreciation? Every character has its own sexuality, physique, strength, and flaws, they are all different!

3. Every person around here has the right to speak their own mind, of course, but the rule must be always the same RESPECT, something that is missing apparently during this last period.

I really hope next time or if it happens for the first time, you will be strong enough to send back those comments to the sender, because NOBODY has the right to tell you how to write or what.

I speak for myself, I can give advice, but all is up to you.

[livin4woso]

Breaking the media

Chapter 9- the media can be scary

You woke to the sound of your name being shouted along the corridor from alexia, so you picked up your phone and walked to the kitchen to find alexia had made breakfast for the two of yous. You opened your phone, and you looked as every single social media of yours had blown up, and the news was all on you. The comments of the next england star girl takes stage at Barcelona at just 16. You almost couldn't believe it. Your transfer had already gotten some attention from the media, but this. This was collosal in less that 24hrs you had gained over 100k followers on Instagram, you couldn't really believe it. Since you had played at arsenal you had been under a watchful eye by the media yet it never phased you but this was different there was alot more news on you and the pressure started to weigh on your shoulders.

Alexia had snapped you out of your thoughts by telling you to hurry up to go to training. You had arrived sharply on time for a match debrief "ohh heres the famous y/n watch out" mapi joked with you "oh shut it mapi you're just jealous that im all over the news and you're not" you responded to her laughing lightly. You had sat on the end of the row hoping to get some peace as everyone sat next to their respective friends, and then it was lucy who came to sit next to you. "You okay?" you asked her "yeah yeah its just a calf pull its not anything to worry about, the only thing i should be worried about is you taking my spot" she responded laughing at the last part of the sentence "oh god no i could never take your spot but in a a year or so cant garentee that one" you responded to her while being told to sushh by your teamates as the meeting started. The meeting was boring you spent more time playing with the strings on your shorts then paying attention as the whole presentation was in spanish and although alexia had been helping you learn to speak spanish it wasn't going on the easiest of paths. However, you did understand one bit when lucy translated that you were going to do media with ona alexia and ingrid for the next hour or so.

"Media really this isn't going to go well, why not someone else" you asked begging to be swapped "no can do, you're the one with all the hype around you the club has to capitalise of it" alexia said putting her arm around your shoulders and dragging you to the media room. You and alexia had been set with the first set of press while ingrid and ona did interviews then yous would swap."bon dia alexia y y/n tengo algunas preguntas sobre el juego" the man continued alexia waited till he was finished when she translated the conversation to you "he said he had a few questions about the game" she whispered to you. The man had asked you how you felt with all the media stories and before you started you decided to make the conversation potentially easier "ermm no hablo espanol sorry i haven't gotten round to mastering the spanish language but i think the media can be positive influencing to motivate me but too much of it can be pressuring especially the ones bringing in national teams" you responded trying to be as professional as possible. After 15 minutes later of questions you and alexia were promptly moved out of the room and to interviews you were each given a list of places to go to luckily yours had been to the English media where alexia had the spanish media. The interviews went okay there was a few questions which were definitely different than usual but one sparked your thoughts "so y/n how do you feel about the increasing number of comments on your post of people commenting on your looks" the reporter asked "if im being honest i haven't looked at the comments but i am 16 so depending on the nature of the comment would depend my response as im open to compliments but i dont think its appropriate to sexualise a teenager or any player as a matter of fact i want to be known for being a good player not for looking good" you replied.

As soon as the media had ended you clicked on your recent post and went straight to the comment section and god it was not a sight you wanted to see it was a mixture of positive comments some wierd over sexulising remark or a hate comment about how you didn't deserve to play on the team or you only played because it would bring attention to the club. You wished you never opened them as a swirling pit of guilt formed were you just there to bring attention to the club? Did you deserve to even be at Barcelona? The thoughts clung to you like a dark web clouding your mind and it was showing. Training followed and you were playing sloppy missing easy tackles and making bad passes this just made your thoughts spiral so when yous were instructed to take a break it was alexia who decided to ask what was wrong as she could tell not just by your preformance but by the way your eyes were dulled and your eyebrows ever so slightly knitted together she knew something was bothering you.

"Hey pequeña what wrong your not playing like you normally do whats on your mind" she said looking at you the minute she asked this tears welled in your eyes it was pathetic you thought to yourself "i.. erm i dont know i guess i just paid too much attention to what everyone was saying and its not very nice" you said dropping your head in defeat "oh come here, do not believe what they say okay whatever it is its wrong i promise you" she said wrapping you in a hug as you pulled back you grabbed your phone out of your bag and showed alexia the comments and the dms of people "trust me y/n they're wrong you are good enough to play for this team and ignore those creeps because unfortunately we cant do much to make it stop but we can move on as if they never existed" she said standing back up to train again. And yet again alexia knew what to tell you how to remove that cloud that sat in your thoughts weighing you down you now just felt lighter.

Alexia had become a solution to your problems one you could rely on. One who cared for you it was unusual but nice the last time you had felt this loved by a person was your foster family back in London who looked after you while you were at arsenal. She had drove yous home and had began to cook dinner for both of you when she casually slipped into conversation "you know jona is thinking about starting you next game due to lucy and jana being injured" "what, you're joking right" you responded "no no of course not but you need to put in the work tomorrow to make sure he will" she replied as she put the pasta on the boil. You had ate your dinner together and watched tv before going to sleep and the thought of starting lingered in your head it was like you had gone to sleep with a smile on your face at the thought of starting.