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#(otherwise we're well over 10)
char-lie-spirals · 2 years
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Current count of Graham Lives AUs rattling around in my brain: 8
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you
sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist
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"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.
"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."
"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."
you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"
"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."
"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.
"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."
with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.
you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.
as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.
your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).
he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"
"nothing," you huff.
"don't be a brat."
you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."
"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."
he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.
when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.
"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."
"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"
you scoff. "well you've got me there."
a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."
you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.
wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."
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you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."
he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.
"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."
"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."
"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."
"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."
"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."
"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."
you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.
as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.
you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.
the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.
"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.
after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.
"let's sit here for a little while."
he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.
as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.
sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.
"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.
"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.
his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.
when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.
"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.
your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.
truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.
no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.
the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.
so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"
his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"
some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.
"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.
he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.
"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."
and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.
"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."
ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."
the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."
you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."
then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.
you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.
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when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.
you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"
as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."
"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"
"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.
"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."
"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."
before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"
he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."
"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.
gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"
"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."
"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."
gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"
yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.
his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.
having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.
leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"
"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"
"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."
gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.
he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"
yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."
"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."
a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"
megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"
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when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.
"ta ta, hooligans!"
you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.
looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.
he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.
"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."
"i'd rather you didn't."
you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."
he hums. "how much did you drink?"
"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."
he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."
"tha's correct, yes."
unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."
you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.
pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.
"tuck me in?" you request.
sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.
he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.
instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."
his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.
but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."
"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."
your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.
love?
what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.
suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:
"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."
rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?
were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?
is that what love is?
could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?
does the definition of love lie in those questions?
sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.
he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.
he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.
so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?
gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.
the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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What about Hotch sneaking wife!reader and Jack into his hotel room during an away case and getting caught? He just wants to sleep by his love cause he can’t sleep without her since they got married 🥹
Aaron doesn't think much about forgoing an alarm when he falls asleep by your side. Their case is over, they've done all they need to, and they're just waiting on a delay at the airport that's preventing planes from taking off. There's no reason he needs to be out of bed early, and there's definitely no reason he needs to wake you and Jack up at an ungodly hour with an alarm. He's lucky enough to have gotten scheduled for a case alongside one of Jack's soccer tournaments, and for once in his life all of the pieces fall into place perfectly. He'd snuck you into his hotel room, he'd tucked Jack in on the couch, and he'd crawled right into your arms. He's going to take the opportunity given to him by the suddenly-gracious universe, bury his face in your shoulder, and sleep, no alarm necessary.
However, Aaron Hotchner should know by now, that the universe is never gracious. Not to him.
"Hotch?" JJ's voice is muffled by the door, incessant knocks beginning when there's no answer, "Hotch, the storm cleared, and planes are starting to take off again. We're schedule for an hour from now. Are you up?"
"Aaron," You hiss, suddenly filled with a panic you're not sure how to deal with, "Aaron, your- wake up!"
"Daddy?" Jack, evidently roused from the racket, rubs blearily at his left eye, "Daddy, is that Auntie JJ?"
"Is- Is that Jack? Hotch, open up." JJ tries the handle, but of course, it doesn't budge. Jack, ever the helper, takes his dad's groggy, half-awake silence and your own petrified one, as permission to help his aunt out, and almost trips on his blanket as he rushes for the door.
"Jack-" You whisper, trying to shout quietly. When he doesn't hear you, you try louder, even though it'll give you away, "Jack, no!"
"Auntie JJ!" Jack gushes, swinging the door wide open to greet her. The slim blonde is given a full, unobscured view of Aaron's bare chest pressed against your clothed one. He's awake, but barely so, and he's pushed himself off of where he'd been laying over your chest. But you're also trying to sit up, and it just pushes you together again.
JJ's eyes are wide and dancing with amusement, something you know she's going to channel directly into a gossip session with Penelope later. You suppose you understand, you'd want to share the juicy details too, but it's mortifying as she sees you now in bed with her boss.
"Well, good morning," She smirks, ruffling Jack's hair when he hugs her leg, "Uh, sir, I was just coming to let you know that we're scheduled for a flight soon, but if you're otherwise occupied, I can just tell the others you'll meet us back in Quantico?"
"Do not tell anyone anything." Aaron orders, apparently not needing much time in the morning to get his grumpiness going. He narrows his eyes at JJ, "What time do we leave?"
"10:30." None of his sternness can wipe the grin off of her face.
"We'll be gone by 10." You assure Aaron in a soft voice, too embarrassed to let JJ hear you speak.
"Perfect." She gushes, and you're even more mortified that she picked up on your soft murmurs anyways, "Well, sir, sounds like that's all set. But if you want, I can take Jack, and you two can have some alone time? I'm sure the team wouldn't mind, we can ask him all about-"
"No." Aaron snaps, but Jack's already latched onto her leg, sitting atop her foot, "Absolutely not. Jack, come back inside, please."
"Soccer." She clarifies with a knowing smirk, already backing away from the door with the little boy stuck to her, "We'll ask him all about soccer."
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snippychicke · 6 months
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Poppy Seeds -- Part One
As you may have guessed, I fell into a new hyper fixation. Poppy's Playtime of all things. >.<
Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.
I know right now we have no idea who or what Ollie is, but I decided to go with the assumption he is just a kid and not the Prototype as some theorists are assuming. This will likely be debunked in chapter four, but I'm running with it until then.
Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)
Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)
One: Home
Your hands gripped the steering wheel tight as your old truck climbed up the steep incline. It hadn't liked the rough road on a good day, let alone with Kissy and Dogday in the back trying to drag it down. Now it whined and complained, the wheels occasionally skidding on the gravel. Ollie clutched to Poppy tightly next to you, his sunken eyes wide with fear. Poppy, to her credit, looked confident that everything would be okay.
By the time you reached the cabin nestled high above the valley, it was close to midnight. It was a sizable two story home, complete with a barn, garage, and even a chicken coop. Thick forest surrounded the homestead, assuring complete privacy. A year ago your grandparents had moved into an assisted living community in town, leaving the whole place to you. The rest of the family had not been happy but in your defense you would come out every school break growing up to help them out.
And then, after you left Playtime Co, you had moved in under the guise of getting your life sorted out. Your grandparents never asked why it was taking you a decade to figure it out. Which you were glad, because you didn't know how you would have answered them.
Ollie’s fear eased into wonder as he looked at the flock of sheep you had in the pens up front. You were just thankful they were still there, looking rather healthy despite the fact you had been unexpectedly gone for a week or so.
When you had received the letter and VHS about the old Playtime Co you had interned 10 years ago while in college, you thought you would be gone for a few days at most considering it was a few hours away. You prepped your home as best as you could for being gone that long-- giving extra water and feed to the animals, setting the sprinklers for your garden on a timer-- but had little hopes of your own survival let alone that of your animals after being dragged deep into hell.
You didn’t bother with the detached garage, but pulled up right next to the porch. You were exhausted, and you could only imagine everyone else was as well. The truck seemed all too happy to shut off with a rough sound. You looked over at Ollie, who was still looking at everything in wonder, though Poppy was carefully extracting herself from his grip. “You okay there kiddo?”
He looked back at you, “This is where you live?” he asked instead, voice full of awe. “It looks like it's from a fairytale book!”
It really wasn't, it's a typical farm for this part of the country. Hardly one of the fanciest or beautiful, just simple and sturdy.
“Let's get inside and get settled for the night,” you offer instead of remarking. “I should have the stuff for some sandwiches at least.”
“Sand…witches?” Ollie repeated, sounding confused.
“Meat and bread,” Poppy answered, unbuckling the boy. “Sometimes with ketchup, mustard, mayo, cheese.”
“So, food? I like food!”
Your heart ached. You knew the boy had been raised in the factory, hidden away and protected from the Prototype or hungry ‘toys’. The fact he had was a miracle enough--especially considering how small and thin he was. He had to be ten at the youngest, but barely looked as if he was half that age.
The passenger door opened, which considering how much trouble Kissy had with her hands, was surprising. Yet the pink creature reached in and pulled both Ollie and Poppy out of the truck.
Dogday waited for you as you exited the truck, your legs shaky from the long ride. However, his attention wasn't on you but the dark sky above. It was a new moon, meaning the Milky Way arched overhead with dozens of stars. A glance over to Kissy and the others showed they too were amazed by the stars--you could hear Poppy trying to explain all of it to Ollie quietly.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” You said as you stepped closer to Dogday.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I-I’ve never seen the night sky like this.”
“Well, now you can see it every night,” you said, shouldering his arm lightly. “Best place for meteor showers too.”
Dogday tore his gaze away and looked down at you. “Are you sure we can stay here, angel?”
“Of course. As long as you want, even if it's forever.” Granted, you didn't know where else they would go, especially Dogday and Kissy. But you didn't want to assume anything either, or make them feel trapped.
His hand found yours, so giant compared to yours but soft and warm. “Forever it is then.”
You felt your cheeks warm against the chilly night air as you laughed self-consciously. “Right, you might wanna sleep on that kind of decision, ‘Day.”
Two: Sleep
You woke slowly, feeling warm and cozy. Something soft was surrounding you, with the faintest hint of vanilla. At first you thought maybe you were wrapped up in a thick blanket, but when you opened your eyes to matted brown fur you realized it was Dogday instead, his arms wrapped around you and holding you close as if you were the toy. You could feel him breathe softly, each inhale and exhale caressing your skin softly.
(You didn't want to think about the amalgamation of organic and inorganic parts inside of him. You saw enough when you helped attach his legs to leave you with nightmares.)
For once, Dogday looked relaxed. Dark eyes closed and his smile softened. You couldn’t resist running your fingers along his face. He had been one of the few you had instantly trusted in that hell. One of the few that never even seemed to think about harming you.
Poppy had used you for her own means, not giving you a real choice ever since you released her. Kissy Missy had always been kind but you had soon realized that her partnership with Poppy may have played a part in it. And of course there was Ollie, though it took a while for you to trust the faceless voice on the phone, especially after you learned that the Prototype could mimic voices and Ollie had a very… peculiar way of phrasing things.
Yet Dogday… he had raised his head, and saw you as someone special as soon as his gaze met yours. Begged you to leave him behind and to run when the miniature Critters started to swarm. Actively fought to defend and protect you despite missing the lower half of his body at first.
And ever since, had refused to leave your side. While everyone else did their part, he determinedly stuck with you. Even last night after everyone finished eating and all anyone could think about was sleep. Kissy happily cuddled Poppy and Ollie in her arms as she climbed up the stairs to claim a bedroom. You expected Dogday to follow suit…
“Hey, uh, angel?” Dogday said softly, sounding rather shy. He had stuck around to help you clean up, though all that consisted of was a few plates, cups, and butter knives. Though the number of sandwiches consumed had emptied out all the bread, lunchmeat, cheese, as well as peanut butter and jelly in your pantry.
“Yeah?” You were getting used to the nickname, though you still felt as if it was undeserved the way he said it. As if you truly were an angel from heaven, sent to save.
“... Could I sleep with you?”
His question surprised you, and you almost dropped the cup you had been washing. Thankfully he quickly grabbed it before it could fall very far. “Sleep…with me?”
Granted those last two… days? You weren't sure, but you and him had found safe spots to watch out for each other while the other slept. It was the only time during the whole ‘adventure’ you managed to sleep. Wrapped up in his arms, feeling him breathe, listening to his heartbeat. It reminded you weren't alone anymore.
“I… don't want to be alone,” he continued, drying off the cup and placing it on the shelf. “Even if I know you and the others are nearby, I…”
Your surprise shifted into sympathy and understanding. Kissy, Poppy, and Ollie were together… and now that you thought about it, being alone right now did not fill you with any sort of ease.
“Yeah. I mean, if you don't mind cuddling close. My bed is barely big enough for two normal-sized people, let alone one me and one… well, Dogday.”
His smile widened. “With you? Never.”
Dogday shifted in his sleep, turning his head to nuzzle into your hand before his eyes slowly opened. His smile widened slightly, and you heard more than saw his tail thump against the bed which in turn made you smile wider as well. “Morning,” you greeted softly.
“Good morning, angel,” he said just as softly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Best sleep in a long time,” you admitted with a slight laugh. Trying to sleep in the factory had been a scary experience. Finding small places to hide long enough to close your eyes. Waking and jumping at every little sound. Plagued by endless nightmares.
And you had been there for just a few days, a week at most.
“What about you?” you asked. Him and the others had lived in that hell for a decade. You didn't startle awake from him lashing out at nightmares. Which you had seen him do a few times before at the factory. You had held him in your laps as best you could, reassuring him he was okay as he broke down.
He leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek slightly. “Next to you, how could I not?”
You laughed between his flirty words and his fur tickling your skin. “You're such a flirt!”
Three: Morning After
“It's so bright outside!” Ollie gasped as he looked out the window while you worked on breakfast. Thankfully none of the eggs had spoiled, nor had any milk, meaning you were whipping up a full course of scrambled eggs and pancakes-- as well as cooking the few boxes of frozen sausages you had found in the freezer.
Dogday was currently watching them like a hawk, occasionally licking his lips as he moved them around in the skillet.
“Actually. That's cloudy. See how the sky is gray. Not blue?” Poppy pointed out, also gazing out the window. “On sunny days, it's a bright vibrant blue, and even brighter.”
“Really?” The boy looked up to you to confirm the doll's words, and you nodded your head. To think he had never seen the sky before. To be unable to tell a sunny day from a cloudy one.
“It actually looks like it could rain,” you pointed out. “Maybe we should hold off on a bath until after you have fun in the mud.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought if you get caught in the rain, you'll get sick?”
“Psh, no. At least, not as long as you can dry off and warm up afterwards. It'll also give me time to look through stuff down in the basement. I think there should be some old hand me downs that should fit you.”
“A good bath can do wonders.” Poppy hopped down from the windowsill and into Kissy's hand before the giant monster also gently corralled Ollie to the table where the food was waiting. “It's been such a long time.”
“Er, excuse me for being intrusive…” you set down a towering plate of pancakes before sitting yourself. “But can you guys get wet?”
“We may not be flesh and bone anymore, but we can still enjoy a good shower,” Dogday answered as he set the plate of sausage links in front of you. “Or even a swim.”
“Why is the water white?” Ollie interrupted, looking oddly at the glass of milk Kissy poured in front of him. “I've never seen it that color before.”
“It’s milk,” Poppy answered. “You used to love it when you were a baby and we had access to some.”
Ollie sniffed suspiciously before taking a drink… and then nearly gulping the entire glass in one go. You took the opportunity of everyone chuckling at the boy to split the sausage between the others. Kissy noticed first and clapped excitedly, her mit-like hands muffling the sound.
“Angel,” Dogday sighed, though you weren't sure he was touched or exasperated. Or maybe both.
“Shh, I saw the way you were eyeing them. I can always buy more when I go to town.”
He was silent for a while before taking a bite of the sausage, savoring it unlike Kissy who had all but inhaled hers. Ollie was following Kissy’s example with the banquet of food, while Poppy was benign as dainty as could be, cutting everything into tiny bites, even for her smaller size.
You couldn’t help but savor your own food, feeling rather happy and optimistic about the future.
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imissylou · 11 months
Text
Herbs and Spices Legacy Challenge
By Sunny & Missy
Hello! This is the first challenge my friend and I created. I had lots of fun making this challenge and I hope you enjoy it as well. I created this in only a day so there may be things that need to be added or taken away once I go through the challenge myself. Happy Simming!
Overview:
This is an 8 generation Legacy Challenge. The gender and style is completely up to you (except generation 2). Complete all goals before moving onto the next generation. Make sure you look ahead each generation because some may overlap with each other (start as a teen or teen goals). I will create a base game version in the future, but for right now just skip or make up a new rule if you don't have a pack. We will be adding colour's (yes we’re Canadian), no they don't make sense with the herbs and spices, but it's fun so that's what we're going to do!! I'm playing this for the first time so things may change, please let me know if there's any mistakes or if you think of anything to add to this challenge.
Rules
You can either start off with 0 money like the original legacy challenge or start out with starting funds, whichever is more fun for you!
You don't have to level up skills to level 10, unless the job states otherwise.
Complete job career, unless stated otherwise
Complete the aspiration each generation, unless stated otherwise
Cheats are fine if it makes the challenge more fun for you, otherwise try not to make yourself have an advantage over others, cc is fine
Must complete each goal for each gen, then you can go to the next generation, You can choose to do the optional goals
I suggest life span on normal or long, short if you want stress and a challenge!
This doesn't need to be a berry challenge, but if you want to you can make everything their fav colour!! 
if you play this challenge please use #herbsandspiceslegacy
Have Fun!!
The link for the full challenge can be found below!! The first Gen will be below the cut, just to see if you like it!
Here's a google doc
Generation 1 - Paprika
You always loved kids, your job as a teacher fulfilled your needs as wanting to be a Parent, you fell in love with a noncommittle person, you thought you could change them, but one day they were gone, you still had something to remind you of them. you were pregnant! Now you're going to be the best parent ever, who needs two parents anyways.
*Aspiration: Super Parent
*Traits: Family Oriented (choose others)
*Skills: Research and debate, logic, and Charisma 
*Job: Teacher (Any Branch)
*Fav Colour: Red
Goals
*complete the teacher career
*Complete Aspiration
*Must have a male Child (you can cheat this or have a trans sim)
*Have 1 child, be super involved in their life
*Have your kid have high confidence
*Achieve either the close or supportive family dynamic with your child
*Never date or marry
Optional goals
*Master all your skills
*Get the single and loving it lifestyle
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milesandcorysupermacy · 8 months
Note
miles with a hello kitty partner???
SURE, POOK! Btw I didn't know what miles u were talking abt so I just did 42 because I thought the personality contrast would be cuter, enjoy!
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"YOU LOOK GOOD IN PINK"
42!Miles x Hello-Kitty-Black!Reader
Genre: Sugar, spice, and everything nice 🤩
Warnings: Nun, just super cute!
Summary: Your mom finally let's Miles have a sleepover with you, the two of you participate in some hello kitty activities, but not without some convincing!
Miles has always had a soft spot for you, ever since your first day at Visions. You came in 10 minutes late, (You were trying to figure out how to put your hello kitty claw clip into your braids) and sat in the only chair available, the one next to Miles. Everyone else was so afraid to sit next to him after that incident with his dad, they all treated him like he was a ticking time bomb. Like even the slightest touch or wrong thing said would cause him to go off on anyone or anything. But you, you were different.
You sat down next to him, your triple pink dunks lightly tapping against the floor as you sat down. You turned to your left and saw a brown-skinned boy with braids. He was lightly tapping his pencil on the desk to the steady beat of 'Stay Ready (What A Life)' by Jhené Aiko & Kendrick Lamar. "Hey, I know that song." You gently say, trying to make conversation. The boy looked over at you, starstruck. If anyone else would've said that, he'd roll his eyes without missing a beat. But your pleasant smile with glossed lips, your eyelashes gently fluttering, and your shared music taste drew him in. He gave a flirtatious smile, turned to you, and said... "Really? Well I wanna know sum', what's your name, mama?"
Ever since that day, Miles never left your side. That was something you took notice of, but so did your mom. She never let the two of you have a sleepover, when you asked why she always said the same thing.
"That boy never leaves your side, in 9 months we're all gonna need jobs on the side."
This constantly made you roll your eyes, not every teenage girl is the same! But, no matter what you said, she never thought otherwise. So, you and Miles made a Google Slideshow with reasons why you two should have a sleepover. To your suprise, your mom actually agreed under one condition, it had to be at your house. So, with a little bit of convincing Rio, Miles was making his way over. As you were thinking about what the two of you were gonna do, he texted you.
My Big Baby 💞
Outside, mami.
Ok, coming down rn.
Read
You excitedly hopped out of your hello kitty, pink colored bed sheets. The pink LED lights illuminated your room, making you subconsciously even more excited. You speed walked out of your room, catching your mom's attention.
"Your little friend must be here."
"Mom, he's my boyfriend and has been for 10 months. But, yes he is here!"
You say before clapping excitedly and opening the front door to reveal Miles standing there with a pleasant smile on his face, plus two bouquets of eternal roses. One was a pink and white bouquet that resembles hello kitty, and the other with royal blue and white roses to match your Mother's kitchen.
"Hey."
He said before stepping into your home with you closing the door behind him, wearing the hello kitty slippers that he bought for you to wear around the house. He handed you your bouquet and you squealed excitedly, taking the flowers from his hand.
"Ahhh! Thank you, Miles!"
You say, hugging him tightly. He smiles as you pull him into an embrace, happy with your fulfillment.
"No problem, Cariño."
He walked past you, approaching your mom with the flowers.
"These are for you, Ms. L/N."
He said before handing over the 2nd bouquet to your mother. She took the flowers, but not before a lecture.
"Thank you, Miles. This bribe won't work, you still can't sleep in her bed."
Miles chuckled at that.
"No bribe, just an appreciation gift for allowing me to come over."
He said slyly, giving her his most charming smile. You started walking over to him, intertwining your fingers.
"We're gonna go in my room, mom."
"Ok, I'm ordering pizza."
You and Miles walk into your room, excitedly. He admires your whole room aesthetic.
"Mami, this room is somehow more pink than the last time I saw it."
"Well, atleast it's not depressing like yours."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He said before cooking his head to the side and putting his hands on his hips, something his mom also does a lot.
"Well, mine has color. Your room is just dark purple and black."
You say, also putting your hands on your hips playfully.
"Well, atleast mine doesn't have a cartoon character cult."
He says, before motioning over to your collection of hello kitty plushies and mean mugging you playfully.
"You do, a cult full of random action figures that haven't been opened yet, and just sit on a shelf collecting dust."
"First of all, those are limited edition, collectibles. And you know that, Miss Thang."
He says, holding a finger up and shaking his head side to side sassily. You two burst out into laughter before sitting on your bed. You checked the time and saw it was 6:51 pm. Which reminded you that it was about time to put on the matching pajamas you bought for the two of you.
"OH! Miles?"
"Yes, mama?"
He replied with his arm wrapped around you and tv remote in hand. You stood up, walking over to your dresser, opening your pajama drawer.
"I know you tell me to never buy you anything unless it's your birthday or Christmas, but I saw this and I just had to get it because it was just so cute, plu-"
"Where is this going?"
He said cutting you off, by the way you were trying to convince him he could already tell he wasn't going to like this suprise. You pulled out 2 pink pairs of hello kitty pajamas with kitty's face on them and red hearts. Along with that, there was 2 white shirts with kitty's face on them. Miles looked at the outfits in disgust.
"No."
"C'mon!"
You whined.
"No, there's no way you're gonna make me wear those pink pants right now."
"Fine, then I'll make you wear them later."
Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you decided to respond before he could add a sassy remark.
"Right now, let's do these face masks!"
You say, holding up 2 hello kitty face masks. Smiling, before walking over to him and grabbing his hand. Dragging him into the bathroom with you. Once you two make it into the room, you show him your routine.
"Ok, so first we're going to cleanse our faces, then, we're going to add toner, next a cucumber, hello kitty face mask, next a serum, and finally moisturizer."
"And what exactly is all this stuff gonna do? All I use is cleanser and moisturizer."
"Miles, I love you. But, shut up."
"Yes, ma'am."
He said, before holding his arms up in surrender. You playfully roll your eyes and squirt some cleanser onto both of your hands. You turn on the sink and lather up the cleanser on your hands, Miles does the same. You two lather up your faces and turn off the sink.
"Ok, what'd you say was next? This tone stuff?"
"Yes, Miles. The rosewater toner."
You grabbed the toner and sprayed it 3 times on your face and once on your neck. You began to rub it in with closed eyes. Miles grabs the toner and you hear the sound of the bottle spraying 7 times before you told Miles to stop.
"Miles! That's enough, jeez. That thing was like $28."
"You act like I can buy you another one, I don't care if it was $2,800."
You smirk at his confidence before grabbing the hello kitty masks.
"Ok, grab one!"
You say excitedly, before Miles sighed.
"You're so lucky I love you."
"I am."
You say before kissing his cheek, making him smile. You two take the masks out and he asks a question.
"How long is this supposed to stay on?"
"The label says 15 minutes."
"But it's cold."
He whines.
"Aw, do you want me to put it on you, my big baby?"
You coo.
"Yea."
He says before sitting on the toilet lid. You put your face mask on in the mirror, making sure that it's on right. After yours is on, you make your way over to Miles, straddling his waist before fully taking the mask out the package. You apply it to his face, but not without him squirming.
"Be still."
"It's cold!"
"It won't be in like 2 minutes."
"That's too long!"
You rolled your eyes and finished applying his mask after an extra 30 seconds of him whining.
"You wanna take a photo?"
"Sure, whatever makes you happy, mami."
You pull your phone with a hello kitty case out of your pink legging pocket. You open Instagram and take a picture, adding the caption 'Sleepover day with Bae! @milesdontgaf'.
You two walk into your room and watch an episode of TV to pass the time, guess what show.....Hello kitty! You two watched a 15 minute compilation of season 5 on YouTube. By the time the video was over the two of you walked back into the bathroom to take off the face mask. You told miles to rub the extra serum.
"Now it's time for the Vitamin C serum."
"World's longest skincare routine."
Miles muttered, you slapped his chest.
"Ow."
You applied 4 drops, one to each cheek, one to your neck, and one to your forehead. You did the same to Miles because he whined about not knowing how to do it (🙄). You both applied the moisturizer with SPF 15 and finished in time for dinner. Your mom told you that the pizza was here and you and Miles rushed down the stairs. You saw 2 boxes, one pizza for you and Miles and one pizza for your mom. You two grabbed your pizza, 2 apple juices, thanked your mom, and ran upstairs.
You opened the box to reveal a Hello Kitty shaped pizza. You gasped, squealing from excitement. Miles shook his head smiling at your reaction.
"Miles, baby! Look!"
"I see, mama."
You two ate the pizza and drank your juices while watching hello kitty. Once the two of you finished and threw away the pizza box, you got an idea.
"So, you still don't want to put on those hello kitty pajamas?"
"Y/N, no. I'm not wearing that pink shi-"
You waited outside the bathroom door with your hello kitty pajamas for Miles. You had convinced forced him to put his pajamas on. Once Miles walked out the bathroom, you smiled, hugging him and kissing his cheeks. You were so thankful that he would do anything to make you happy.
"See, you look good in pink!"
"Don't push it."
--------------------------------------------------
Taglist: @we-loveebony, @im-miss-simp
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danieyells · 4 months
Note
care to spoil any interesting dialogue Haku has when you reach higher affinity levels? Would love to know!
Haku's so. . .normal, it's kinda cute? Lol. But yeah I'm pretty down for that! I wanted to share one of these things but held my tongue lolol but since you're asking here're some of the ones that were more interesting or otherwise appealing to me!
I've amended this post to be all of Haku's home screen lines. Enjoy!
Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)
"Oh, finally here, huh? I'm not really ready for you yet though... Ha ha. Wait over there for me, would you?"
You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)
"Oh, looks like you've got a letter. If you don't open it soon, I might sneak a peek."
Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)
"How's the search for clues about your curse going? Don't put too much pressure on yourself. If you ever want to talk, I'm happy to listen."
"Most people in Hotarubi have something they put their heart and soul into. That doesn't really work for me though. I lose interest in things way too easily."
"What are you doing here? Don't tell me you've gotten yourself mixed up in something again."
this is a very funny one to have him say when i use the sinostra casino as my home screen bg
"Haha. Don't expect too much from me. Ghouls are just glorified street magicians, really. Let's keep it light, huh?"
'glorified street magicians' is a hell of a way to describe. . .a lot of the stigmas we've got going here lmao
"Boo! Ha ha, didn't think you'd get that scared. I was just getting rid of the shadow imp that was sticking to your back... I'm kidding! There was nothing there, I promise."
Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)
"...So, how about we take a walk? This dorm's seen better days, so it's tough work checking all the places that need repairs."
Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)
"You've adjusted to life at Darkwick pretty well, haven't you? Not that anomalies and missions are something you'd want to get used to..."
Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Today doesn't really work for me... I'm going to be getting back to the dorm pretty late, so can we do tomorrow instead?"
Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)
"...Hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's something untoward lingering behind you. Don't look! Hah, I was just kidding. It was just a little dust, see?"
Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Twilight has been a lot quieter than usual today... I hope that's not a bad sign."
Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Subaru's just too nice. Keeping all the eccentrics in Hotarubi in check's gotta be rough."
Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Everyone here comes from different backgrounds and has different gifts. There's no reason you should feel out of place."
'we're all unique, including the most ordinary among us.' good lesson!
Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Looks we're going to make it through today without any disasters. At least I hope so."
Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)
"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't walk around at night with your guard down. Don't come crying to me if you get possessed by a fox spirit, you hear?"
Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Your parents ever tell you ghosts would get you if you don't go to bed? For some reason Zenji's the only one who gets spooked when I say that..."
after the reveal that zenji is a ghost this is so funny actually I LOVE THAT ZENJI IS A GHOST WHO'S AFRAID OF GHOSTS AND THE DARK.
Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)
"All these geniuses and their lectures are giving me heartburn. Wouldn't mind hearing the woes of someone long-suffering instead every once in a while."
(this sounds cruel but from what i can tell in Japanese he says he'd rather hear stories about hard workers/people who struggled from the bottom than prodigies. Basically he's more interested in, y'know, ordinary folks than people who're really special.)
Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)
"That video I took of Zenji today? I'm just going to do some quick editing and post it. I don't know why he doesn't just focus on content that's more his style..."
Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"I saw Tohma a little while ago. Been a while since we last had a real chat. Sounds like he's got his hands full, as always."
so i initially left this one out of this post because i didn't think much of it but. . .the way Haku regards Tohma is so much more casual than Tohma regards Haku in retrospect, it seems. To Haku, Tohma's just the usual hard worker. Someone he'd actually enjoy having a conversation with. But Tohma speaks to Haku almost as if with suspicion or disdain. . .then again he speaks kind of coldly to Jin too. Maybe that's just how he is with people he kind of knows or views as more on his level. Or it's something more sinister. Who knows.
Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)
"Mornin'. You've got a sleep mark on your face. Yeah, right there. Good to know you got a good night's rest."
Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)
"You haven't collected all the papers that were supposed to be submitted by today's deadline yet? Who are you waiting on? Got it. I'll go get them for you."
Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)
"I don't mean to scare you, but... be careful with your right leg. Especially when you're in the main building."
Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Getting cold feet when you try to jump into the deep end is just proof you're a normal human being. We're the crazy ones."
Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Can't sleep? In that case, let's go for a little walk. There's actually something I want to talk to you about."
pretty high affinity to be having chats on night walks. . .i wonder what he wanted to talk about.
Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Just having someone you care about at your side is all you really need... Ha ha. That was a little out of character, huh? My bad."
Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)
"Oh, you're awake. I was just about to make some tea to wake myself up. Want some?"
Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)
"It's not very often I get to kick back like this in the middle of the day. Maybe I'll take a nap."
Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"None of us wanted to become like this. Living an ordinary life, and dying an ordinary death— why go after more than that?"
He just wants to be normal. And he can't. It's kinda tragic lol
Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)
"(Yawn) Oh, didn't see you there. Haha... Guess I've been letting my sleep debt build up. I'm going to bed."
Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Being cursed really sucks, huh? You can't help but ask yourself, "Why me?" all the time, even when you know it's a question with no answer."
Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)
"I know I'm being selfish— but sometimes, I wish you'd just forget about me..."
WHY. . .ARE YOU THE SUS ONE AND YOU FEEL BAD THAT YOU'LL BETRAY THEM? DO YOU JUST FEEL LIKE YOU'RE TOO LUCKY HAVING HAD FALLEN FOR SOMEONE NORMAL WHEN YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT NORMAL ANYMORE? DO YOU FEEL LIKE THE PC DESERVES SOMEONE NORMAL AND TO BE ABLE TO GO BACK TO A NORMAL LIFE BUT BEING WITH YOU GUARANTEES THEY WON'T? WHY DO YOU WANT THEM TO FORGET YOU. . .he's so interesting to me simply because of how much he tries to keep himself apart from his being a ghoul(and, y'know, seeing spirits and shit--) so he can try and just be any other guy. . .and he can't lol his surroundings, who and what he is, he can't go back to being normal! It's a charming way to have a boy next door sort of personality i think lol
Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)
"I've been noticing more birds in the garden lately. Is that a bush warbler? A white-eye, maybe? A lot going on during spring in Hotarubi."
Boy knows his birbs.
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Heading into another nice, warm afternoon. Maybe I should take a nap...? Oops, nearly forgot I promised Zenji I'd film him."
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Must be nice being a ghost—no hayfever, and no hangovers. Spring really is the embodiment of human weakness."
How drunk did you get last night buddy. . . .
(between 8pm and 5am)
"My family home is pretty famous in our area for its cherry blossoms... When I was a kid, my friends and I used to go exploring through them at night."
Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)
"It's so humid... Days like this make me miss Frostheim..."
He's former Frostheim! Maybe that's why he and Tohma seem to have some history. There's also Jin's friend who left that Tohma helped to switch houses. . .but Haku was a second year then so would he have needed it?
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Today, I've got to go round and check the stalls for the festival Hotarubi is holding— wouldn't want any dangerous charlatans sneaking their way in."
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Zenji's off roaming around somewhere again... People are more sensitive this time year, so I wish he'd just stay put..."
AGAIN, BEFORE WE LEARNED HE WAS A GHOST I READ THIS AND THOUGHT PEOPLE HE MEANT LIKE. . .SENSITIVE EMOTIONALLY TO NOISE AND ZENJI'S BIWA PLAYING. I DID NOT REALIZE THAT HE WAS WORRIED PEOPLE WOULD REALIZE ZENJI WAS THERE.
(between 8pm and 5am)
"You're not going to wear a yukata? Eh, I just thought it'd be cute to see. That's the kind of thing guys think about, don't know what else to tell you."
It reads like he's a little disappointed the girl he's into friends with isn't gonna wear something he thinks is cute lol
Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)
"They say fall is the season of the arts, but I'm a really mediocre flute player. I'm about as uncultured as you can get."
funny thing for an ex-frostheimer to say.
(between 11am and 4pm)
"You can hear the biwa, right? He's been going for three hours now. People are going to start getting pissed off, so I'll go tell him to stop soon."
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Nightfall can catch you unaware this time of year. It'll be dark soon, so let me know when you're planning to head home. I'll walk you back to the cathedral."
(between 8pm and 5am)
"It's a stunner of a night. Maybe I'll grab a drink and do a little moon gazing."
don't drink too much you're trying to quit smoking, the solution isn't to replace it with another addiction--
Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)
"You'll catch a cold dressed like that. It's already pretty chilly out there, you know... Here, take my coat."
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Winter rain really chills you to the bone. Sorry, walking through the garden must be rough for you this time of year. Come a little closer."
I'm a bit of a sucker for huddling together in the cold lol
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"It's cold again today. Now that I think of it, Subaru said he wanted to make hotpot with everyone. Guess I'll go grab some things and make it happen."
(between 8pm and 5am)
"Your hands hurt because of the cold? Let me see. Oh yeah, your fingertips are all red. Here, stick them in my pockets."
Is that your flute in your pocket or are you completely unaffected by the cold
His birthday: (July 26th)
"Wait, you got me a birthday present? You're so conscientious. Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Thanks, I appreciate it."
Your birthday:
"Hey, come over here a sec. Here. It's nothing special, but I got you a something. Today's your birthday, right?"
why is this worded like he's asking you to come into a shady alley in secret to give you a birthday gift lmao
New Years: (January 1st)
"Happy New Year. I know it's a cliché, but I hope this year's a good one for you."
Valentine's Day: (February 14th)
"Whoa, chocolate? I didn't think you'd give them to me too. Guess I better think of something good to get you in return."
White Day: (March 13th)
"Here, for the chocolate you got me last month. I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got the ones I remember you said were good."
April Fool's Day: (April 1st)
"A bunch of spirits have been following you around all day, are you okay? Psych, just kidding. Seriously, I was joking, I swear."
Halloween: (October 31st)
"Looks like you've had your fair share of tricks today. I'll narrow down your options and just make it a treat, then."
Christmas: (December 25th)
"You look like you're having fun. Do you have a present for me, Little Miss Santa? Haha, I'm just kidding. Here you go. Merry Christmas."
Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)
"...Hey, you alive? Not much point me just standing here waiting around. Guess I'll take off."
(13 affinity and above)
"I know I look like a slacker, but I do have stuff to do. Guess I'll nap till she gets back."
Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)
"Hey there, stranger. Everyone's missed you, you know. ...Even I was starting to get a little worried."
Those're the ones that're most interesting to me I think! 'u' there are some that aren't up there though, like some of the ones that show him being responsible and worrying about his teammates haha. Hope you don't mind my little commentary here and there!
A while later and I've amended this post to include all of the home screen voicelines, not just the ones that appealed to me most in that moment! Haku's interesting in how. . .normal he is. Aside from the seeing spirits and things anyway lmao. He's just a casual flirt who wants to escape the abnormality that his becoming a ghoul got him. I feel like his lines don't really reveal anything about him. . .but also 19 in particular feels. . .a little lonely? Maybe because of how he had to leave Frostheim, he doesn't really feel as connected to the Hotarubi ghouls yet, compared to how he was with Jin before? Or, if he is the spy, he feels like all of his relationships are fake. . .and man that 'I wish you'd just forget about me' line is sad but also SO SUSPICIOUS. WHO SAYS THAT IF THEY DON'T PLAN ON LEAVING YOU OR STABBING YOU IN THE BACK.
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secretagentsociety · 2 years
Text
yandere monster x willing reader
warning : yandere and monster put together isn't rlly a safe space per say,so um continue with cautious
Sumary : the village people believed that the monster is out to destroy them if they didn't sacrifice a young virgin and you being at a marriageable and is still unwedded have become the sacrifice,oh but by the end of it you got yourself an all powerful monster boyfriend that bend at your every will (in Sumary he's a simp)
Imagine
It was a nice and sunny day,normally everyone in the village would love this type of days but the barren market place and untilled farms said otherwise,why is everything being abandoned? Well because people were scared of 'the monster'
rumours starts circulating the entire town,it got so big even the king had sent official trained knights to 'protect' the village,when in actuality he just want to capture and exploit the monster
But nothing worked,this morning a villager was found dead along with huge clawmarks near the trees where he's found,scared the people starts going to the church believing it is some sort of demon
The church then adviced to 'sacrifice a virgin blood' they didn't say to sacrifice anyone's life,fk they didn't even say that it HAD to be human,but alas your village is stupid and is superstitious and so it brings us here
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• At first he was curious as to why the humans we're abandoning another human,but he'd travel across the continent enough to know you must've been some sort of thief being punished,but he couldn't help but inspect closer
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• with your eyes closed shut you didn't realise how close you were to the 'monster' his eyes stared directly at your fluttering eyelash as you tried your best to keep your eyes close,he found your trembling lips cute very kissable,and so that's what he did,he is a creature of instinct,and when he did something clicked.
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•now you can forget ever being released back to those nasty villager ever again,forget your past life forget how you're living before and forget every acquaintance you've ever made,because he's not letting you go,no no no,he can't do that! you're his beloved little mate
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• he gives 10 / 10 cuddles,will hug your protectively and sometime refused to sleep until you're in his arm,he never knew he needed a cuddle buddy but here we are with you stuck in one position because if you were so to TRY to pry him off oh boy I wouldn't do that if I were you
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• very extremely protective,possessive,jealous all the glorious toxic traits of a yandere,this man got it all, it's like Pokémon except the thing he catch is how many time you can count him eating a human male/female whatever human that DAREE to even touch you
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• he TOWERS over you,no it doesn't matter how tall you're how many high heels you wore he's taller, he's bigger, and he's better and that's a facts!,no but fr he is a monster even if you're like 6'9 ;) he's still taller by like a whole foot maybe two....
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• If one day he find you gone for whatever reason,the village is the first to feel his wrath,now he's not some weakling who couldn't even protect their own mate,no no no,if he wants to he could cause HAVOC I tell you HAVOC that will effect the future generations to come,he is afterall what his kind considered an elder,wise knowledgeable and is extremely petty
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• for the many years he had lived yes he knows how to communicate with humans and yes he have human form and yes his dck is huge let us move on now
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• now then back to you being gone,if you appeared unharmed congrats to the entire empire they won't be meeting their ruin anytime soon,BUT if you did come back....lets say barely alive,he will kidnap every single 'physicians' there is in the empire,even the royal physician's and if they can't make you feel better then off with their head!,and body and legs he just straight up nom them
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• now the situation got so bad the king had to put out a rolling stating you're not to be disturbed and or made upset for the safety of the people,yes you have become a royalty indirectly
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• now then if you were to ask for a hug he would be DELIGHTED he even shed some happy tears but nevertheless would cuddle immediately,like he drops whatever it is he's doing and cuddle you
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• does he have tails and ears? Yes. Are they soft? Hell yes. Are they sensitive?duh,wink wink nudge nudge ;) . Would is potentially lead to spicy scene if you were to 'accidentally touched' them? Yes 100%
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•now then if you were for some reason decides to run away no one would assist, you're essentially stuck with him,why?because even if you did ask for knights to help they wouldn't, you'd be tied up and safely returned in his arm where you rightfully belong,and with that followed by punishment that I would not be writing out
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• stamina level : dude...hes a monster he can travel from one empire to another in a matter of hour when it usually take months!,he can easily stayed up for WEEKS on end and STILL can run from one empire to another within one hour,what do you think?!
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• but it's fine he don't play rough,unless you ask him too :D
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dresshistorynerd · 8 months
Text
Ranking Men's Costumes in Renaissance Period Dramas - Part I: The Bad
Part II: The Good
I have a bone to pick with Renaissance costuming of male characters. Films and TV never seem to understand French hoods or the concept of tied up hair but the crimes committed with female characters costuming seem to pale in comparison with those committed with male characters costuming. It would be easy to find some atrocities that should be brought in front of the Hague from the bottom of the barrel shows like Da Vinci's Demons and Reign, both of which costuming is basically black leather jackets, pants and boots. If we're lucky, they have some vaguely Renaissance details imitating doublet or jerkin. But these shows make absolutely no effort, even the women's costumes are straight from modern fast fashion shelves (often literally). But I have noticed that even costuming that has some effort otherwise put behind it, still costumes male characters with the most boring costumes and minimal effort. The Tudors didn't have good costumes, but there's some effort towards historical immersion, even if quite lackluster, but the men's costumes are still so sloppy.
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My theory is that they think men's Renaissance fashion was too goofy and embarrassing to fit their cool and sexy main male characters. Also men dressing up and taking care of their appearance? That's obviously homosexual behavior, and these hot men who the main female characters are fawning over are Manly and Heterosexual. So they don't dress up in fancy clothing or colour!
To give a fair change to the costuming, I will be selecting only shows and movies which have good costuming for the female characters. If they are not even trying, it feels kinda pointless to point that out. I have selected 10 period dramas. I haven't seen all of them so I'm not going to analyse the costuming any deeper than how good and well made they look and how well they evoke the historical setting. I don't demand historical accuracy, but I will be more harsh on that front if the women's costumes are succeeding in that. But one of the point of period dramas is to immerse into a historical setting, so if the costumes can't evoke that feeling, I think they have failed. Obviously this is not some objective ranking, but my opinions. This is in two parts (because of Tumblr image limits), so I'll start with the five worst costumes in order of best to worst.
5. Ever After (1998)
Ever After is supposedly set in Renaissance France, but the costuming resembles late 15th century and early 16th century Italy much more. It's not very historical, and clearly not really trying to be, going for more of a fantastical style. It works, I think because they make it cohesive and very pretty.
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Men's costumes resemble also resemble Italian styles. The Lombardian style sleeves, short doublets and tight pants land it right there. The men's costumes are much more boring than the fun and fantastical women's costumes, but they got the least worse spot in this worst costumes list for several reasons. The pants are actually tight and they have codpieces. The sleeves are actually really great I love them. And there's no leather pants or doublets.
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And look at this, at least one doublet is closed with lacing!! (I apologize for the very low image quality, it was the only picture I found of that costume.)
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The biggest gripe I have with the costumes are the boots. Just let these male characters show of their calves. At least not everything is black but the lack of colour is still disappointing too.
4. Becoming Elizabeth (2022)
The female characters have quite excellent costuming. The fabrics are rich and gorgeous, the bodices are extremely smooth and crisp, some of the best I've seen, partlets are on point and correctly used. My only complained is the occasional open hair and yet another case of the weird upward pointing crown-like French hoods.
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French hood didn't have any crown shaped thing, it was a hood and the headpiece is actually several headpieces made to reveal the lining of the hood in a crescent shape. So it is very much flat against the head. (I've written about French hood's construction before.) And sure they look more early Tudor fashion, the sleeves should be much more dramatic and the bodice elongated. Like here's a portrait of the actual young Elizabeth. But I think the detailing, great construction and good looking materials make the costuming beautiful and feeling enough like Tudor era.
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So how does the men's costuming hold up? Pretty okay, which is why this show is so high up in the list. I haven't seen any leather pants on anyone. Leather jerkins were an actual thing, they just weren't black, and though the leather jerkin in the show was dark brown and not smooth hide, it was not black so that's something. Edward VI does have actual stockings and Renaissance shoes, which is great, but he is a kid and I didn't see any grown man rocking that style which is very cowardly behavior imo. There's some colourful silk jerkins in there too. And they even could get away with all black since that was very fashionable at the time. They are all wearing slashed trunk hose. AND! They have actual accurate codpieces sticking up! That is so rare especially in this period when the codpiece was not just a flat piece of fabric.
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Unfortunately this is where the good things I have to say end. All of these court people are for some reason wearing riding boots inside and everywhere all the time. The hose are way too long and the jerkins are way too short. The hose should be just peaking under the hem of the jerkin. Obviously none except the kid uses thigh high stockings. One of the worst things though imo is the lack of structuring in the men's costumes. The women's costumes are so well structured, but the men's costumes are just wet rags hanging on them? The doublets were heavily structured to create a pigeon chest and hourglass effect.
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In conclusion, there's clearly some effort made, some very nice historical details, but the overall look is very costumy and sloppy because of the lack of structuring and lacks the historical silhouette.
3. Mad Love (2001)
The movie is set around 1500 Neatherlands (and Spain). I think many of the costumes are gorgeous (like the examples below), though overall the costuming is quite inconsistent. Most of it fits at least okay to the time period and setting, though the red dress here is more along Italian styles, but not entirely off either for early 1500s Low Countries. Some costumes though are 50 years from future. Of the women's costumes alone, this would probably be the worst costuming on this list, though I think better than most Renaissance costuming, which is why it still ended up on this list.
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The men's costumes resemble more early 16th century German fashion than Low Countries fashion, which was more similar to French fashion than German. In the red ensemble there's some weird jerkin looking overgarment, but jerkins were not a thing yet and they were never in this style. I will excuse the lack of codpiece since in Low Countries' fashion it was hidden under longer overgarments, even though in this more German style it would have been left in view. The hose are no where near fitted enough, and the boots should not be here at all. Overall this is kind of a mess, but it is better than the last two. We have skirt, we have weird sleeves, open neckline and most importantly, we have colour. Also while this shoulder-length curly hair wasn't in fashion outside Italy at the time, I still appreciate the sluttiness of it.
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2. The Borgias (2011-2013)
Now we are getting to the territory, where the lack of effort is starting to be very obvious. Like the costumes till now were not particularly good, but clearly they at least attempted, even if not very hard. So, The Borgias. The show is set in the early 1500s Italy. The women's costumes are gorgeous. Not always the most historically accurate, but at least close enough and very pretty.
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The men's costumes however... a deep sigh. Some of them are not that bad, like this first one has kinda Lombardian sleeves and a too small doublet showing off the lacing (in Italy the lacing was almost always ladder-lacing though regardless of gender, but it's something I guess). Most of it though, especially of the leading men, who are supposed to be cool and hot, is absolutely garbage. The same black leather jackets and pants seen in the bottom of the barrel shows. Like the costumes of the female characters and some of the male characters feel like they are from two completely different shows. Like sure they have codpieces, but their pants are so loosely fitted they wouldn't even need the codpieces. (I explain the use of codpieces in this post). And of course they have boots. Of course. In Italy it was even common to not wear shoes at all, they just sewed leather soles at the bottom of the hose. And even the men's costume that have tiniest bit of effort, are so dark and lacking in colour, when the most fashionable young men at the time wore these wildly multicoloured hose and doublets. The feeling I get the showrunners were so god damn afraid of giving the cool male characters any elements or details that could in anyway seen as feminine today, they stripped all the historical elements away. Like they couldn't even give Cesare lacing, they had to make it Manly Buckles?? It's such an insecure performance of masculinity. I admit the last image here is the worst offending example and there were some with a bit of color even, but in other ways most of it is exactly this bad. I will have to hand one thing to them though. They did manage to get the slutty shoulder-length hair right.
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If this man is supposed to be sexy, prove it to me by showing his ass with lovingly fitted hose.
1. Rosaline (2022)
This is roughly set in the same time in Italy too as The Borgias, based on women's costumes, I'd say at the very end of 15th century. And those women's costumes are honestly great. They even have hand-sewn eyelets, ladder-lacing and cartridge pleats. Even some of the most high effort costumes don't get these details right. Honestly I only have issue with the hair, the hair goes from okay or outright terrible. They even made this super historically accurate Renaissance apron for a maid.
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This got the lowest ranking so you know what comes next. The men's costuming is absolutely unacceptable. I feel like it would be excessive to even describe all the ways these costumes fail since to me they are so obviously bad. The difference between these women's dresses with such gorgeously crafted details and these men's costumes that give absolutely nothing is so stark and gives such a massive dissonance. They are just wearing modern skinny-ish pants, all the colors are so muted and dark, there's no shape, no structure, no codpieces, just sloppy bland jackets and pants. Even less effort than men's costumes in The Borgias have. Except one thing they have over The Borgias, they were able to ladder-lace that doublet. Otherwise these are just bland, boring and actively ugly. And it's so weird that they took this "gritty gruff "realistic"" route, when it's a comedy about Romeo and Juliet? You afford to be a little goofy with a comedy and yet you did this.
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Extreme disappointment, do better.
Part II: The Good
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intheholler · 1 year
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On Appalachian and Southern Stereotypes
After seeing some people leap at the opportunity to insult and further harm us under my posts, even by obviously leftist accounts, I wanted to address some of the most popular stereotypes of our region.
Not as an excuse. There are many negative, violent and otherwise harmful features of the American South. We have a horrific history especially in terms of the violence we inflicted and continue to inflict upon the Black community that cannot be forgotten, and, as a culture, we do need to pay our dues.
But maybe this will help y’all apply some nuance to the situation and understand that we aren’t all your enemy.
Stereotype 1: Everyone is a Republican Racist
Absolute horse shit, my friends. There are people like me all over the south and in the hollers. We just get drowned out by the fascists, and it is all by design. 
In my home state of North Carolina alone, they are working tirelessly to make it impossible for young, often liberal (if not outright leftist) voices to be heard. They specifically target regions with heavy POC populations.
As recently as May of this year, the North Carolina Supreme Court overturned their own previous ruling which once made gerrymandering illegal. This allows Republicans free range to draw their congressional lines wherever benefits them most. 
Meanwhile, Roy Cooper, our Democratic governor, has been in office since 2017.
Gerrymandering is a real problem, and it reflects the worst of us. But it does not reflect all of us.
We are a working class, pro-union people.
We are coal miners and mill workers and farmers.
We took up arms against the government and fought for our labor rights during the Coal Wars as recently as the 1920s.
We bled for labor rights at the Battle of Blair Mountain.
It’s a myth that you keep perpetuating that we are all closed minded, bigoted regressionists. It diminishes the efforts of everyone from the coal miners to people like me while we try to make the region a better place.
It actually only worsens what you say that you wish you could “saw off into the ocean.” 
That's my home you're talking about.
Stereotype 2: Everyone is Obese
36.3% of the overall population of the Southeast is obese. This is true.
Have you considered why that may be? For starters, Southerners are more likely to be uninsured compared to individuals living in the rest of the country.
"Among the total nonelderly population, 15% of individuals in the South are uninsured compared to 10% of individuals in the rest of the country."
Partially because they didn't even expand the same Medicaid benefits to us. and partially because we are just so fucking poor. 
17% of the American South is below the poverty line, compared to 13% in the Midwest, 13% in the West, and 13% in the Northeast.
Percentages under 5% may not seem like much, but when you consider 1% of the total United States population is around 3,140,000 people, yeah, that adds up real quick.
How does this relate? Well...
Mississippi has 19.58% of its residents below the poverty line, and a 39.1% obesity rate.
West Virginia has 17.10% of its residents below the poverty line, and a 40.6 % obesity rate.
Kentucky has 16.61% of its residents below the poverty line, and a 40.4% obesity rate.
Are you seeing the trend?
We, generally speaking, are more likely to be unable to afford to feed ourselves wholesome foods, and we are less likely to be able to afford medical insurance--two things that are obviously important to maintaing good health and a "healthy" weight.
By the same token... 
Stereotype #3: We're All Uneducated 
The South and Appalachia are some of the lowest ranked in terms of educational funding and spending per pupil in the entire country. We don't even break the top 30 on the list, y'all.
49. Tennessee at $8,324 per pupil 47. Mississippi at $8,919 per pupil 45. Alabama at $9,636 per pupil 42. Kentucky at $10,010 per pupil 36. North Carolina at $10,613 per pupil 35. South Carolina at  $10,719 per pupil 33. Georgia at $10,893 per pupil 32. West Virginia at $10,984 per pupil
The top three best-funded states, by comparison, receive between $18k and $20k per pupil.
In terms of higher education, student loans are a death sentence for everyone but especially impoverished kids just looking for a way out. It just isn't feasible for most of us. And that's if we even tested well after going to shitty schools our whole lives. If we had better education, we'd have better literacy in all things, including critical thinking, allowing us to better see through the bullshit we are taught. But we don't. And you aren't helping the ones who are trying in spite of that.
Stereotype 4: Bad Teeth
Quickly going to touch on this one--when we consider a lack of access to affordable, healthy food, shitty medical insurance in general and our poverty rate, this one is kind of obvious. Even so:
“Dental coverage was significantly lower than the national average in the South Atlantic (45.6%), East South Central (45.6%), West South Central (45.9%), and Pacific (48.0%) regions.”
Every time you make a toothless hillbilly joke, ask if poverty is really the butt of the joke you want to be making.
These are just the most pervasive of them, imo. And they can all be underlined by extreme poverty which is absolutely by design.
It also contributes to why it isn’t so easy to “just leave” as we are so often dismissively told to do. Moving is expensive.
And why should we have to, anyway? Why should we have to flee our homes?
Why, for those who feel safe enough and/or have no other choice, should we not stay and fight to better the region?
And why can’t you other leftists get behind us and help us in our fight instead of perpetuating harmful stereotypes? We're your people, too.
Just some food for thought. And I hope some of y’all take a big ol bite.
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claymoresword · 2 years
Text
The Realm's Delight
Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon Fem!Reader
Summary: The entire realm of suitors tripping over themselves to take Rhaenyra to wife and yet the only person she has eyes for is you.
Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader
Wordcount: 1k
Warnings: smut, nsfw, top!rhaenyra
Note: first and foremost reader and rhaenyra are cousins clearly so if that bothers u maybe skip this one :/
been putting off writing rhaenyra for so long bc her characterisation is a little intimidating to me but i got over that fear finally (i think)
anyway i hope u enjoy this silly little thing and let me know what u think!
(sorry for the inaccurate high valyrian i dont speak the language)
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You let out a yawn, the sheer banality of this morning's affair was shocking to you.
At Rhaenyra's request you were sat by her side as she listened to petitions from various Lords from all over the realm offering her their hand in marriage.
You scowl at the man before you, he had been going on about the state of his castle. Nothing of interest to you and certainly not to the Princess. If this was his idea of wooing a lady only the gods knew how he would be like as a husband.
"Bisa vala iksis uēpkta than aōha kepa."
(This man is older than your father.)
Rhaenyra's face contorts in amusement at your remark before looking down at her hands, fiddling with her rings out of disinterest.
"Tell me, lord Dondarrion did you think my great grandmother was as beautiful as they say?"
The Princess interupts the man mid sentence and you shake your head in disapproval.
Rhaenyra..
"This was half a century ago Princess" Lord Dondarrion responds, perplexed.
"Yes it was."
The entire court erupts with laughter, you stiffle a grin yourself.
The older man sulks before walking away, being last to catch on the Princess making a mockery of him.
"Bona iksin unseemly, dārilaros."
(That was unseemly, princess.)
Rhaenyra glances at you with a sly smirk before rolling her eyes.
"Issa unseemly syt zirȳla naejot jiōragon nyke zȳhon ondos."
(It is unseemly for him to offer me his hand.)
Boremund glares at the two of you. You throw him an innocent smile, very well knowing he has no notion of what is being said between you.
"Next!" He exclaims.
You were itching for these proceedings to conclude.
A young boy, he must have been no older than 10 and 2. You recognised his sigil, house Blackwood.
You fail to suppress your amusement paired with disbelief, an involuntarily laugh escapes your lips.
Rhaenyra mirrors your baffled expression.
"And now a boy." The Princess says with an exasperated tone.
"The Blackwoods are an ancient house with a formidable army. In the riverlands they once ruled as Kings." Lord Boremund states.
Rhaenyra nods, she decides to give the poor boy a chance.
He goes on and recites a rather well rehearsed speech. Voice trembling but otherwise full of conviction.
A rictus, albeit kind smile painted on Rhaenyra's face.
She is not convinced.
"If chosen as your match Princess, your days shall be easy and night's safe under my protection."
The boy says and you purse your lips, trying not to laugh aloud once again.
"Protection? The Princess has a dragon you dumb cunt."
One of Rhaenyra's many suitors exclaims from the crowd and the boy unsheathes his sword, summoning a challenge.
You roll your eyes. Whether it be a man grown or a little boy, they are all the same.
"We're leaving." Rhaenyra stands, swiftly grabbing your hand. Taking your leave by her side and matching her strut.
"Ser Criston, send word to the harbor and have Captain Oswin ready the ship for you."
"Lady y/n and I will leave on Dragonback. We will see you back at King's Landing."
Criston glances at you in confusion and you only give him a shrug.
"Princess, we're due in Bitterbridge in 3 days time."
Rhaenyra stops in her tracks, You, Criston and his men followed suit. The Princess glares at the Knight and he opposes for a moment before relenting.
"Very well, Princess."
--
Rhaenyra grabs your arm again forcing you to pick up the pace. You eventually find yourselves alone in a dimly lit hallway far from the commotion in the other room.
"Nyra–" You yelp, as she expertly pushes you up against a wall her hand resting against it.
She leans in capturing your lips into a searing kiss. You melt at the feeling of her mouth against yours, simply aching for her.
Rhaenyra's hands find your waist as she disconnects your lips. You nearly shiver under her intense stare. She watches your chest heave as you attempted to catch your breath. You notice her breathing just as heavily.
"I have been dying to do that all morning."
She kisses you again, this time your hand finds the back of her neck pulling her impossibly closer.
"Istin emagon ao sir."
(I must have you now)
Rhaenyra shifts her attention to your neck, placing wet kisses against it. You don't suppress the shiver this time and immediately feel her grin form against your neck.
"Ēdā nyke mōrī bantis."
(You had me last night.)
You tease, hand moving to rest on her shoulder.
"One night is not enough" She whispers before taking your bottom lip in between her teeth tugging at it. She kisses you again.
"With you it is never enough."
Your mouth opens wider and her tongue comes into contact with yours. A moan spills out of you directly into her mouth and Rhaenyra hums against your lips.
A rush of arousal shoots directly to your core. Rhaenyra would have her way with you infront of the entire court if she could.
Gods, you wish she would.
Rhaenyra lifts up your thigh and runs her hand under your dress resting it on your ass. You wrap your leg around her waist reflexively giving her easier access. A glimmer in her eyes as she takes the opportunity to slip her hand underneath your smallclothes, she could feel how wet you were as she swipes a finger through your folds.
"Rhaenyra, what if someone sees us?" You whimper as you fight the urge to grind your wanting core against her hand.
She leans forward, placing another kiss on your neck before sinking her teeth into it earning a desperate moan from you.
"I really don't care." She whispers and you feel your legs grow weaker.
Rhaenyra presses her palm against your center and you feel yourself move against her hand wantonly. She dips a finger into your entrance and you let out another moan.
"Ah– Rhaenyra, wait please."
You wanted to kick yourself for stopping her but you couldn't risk getting caught, not here.
Rhaenyra sighs before removing her hand from underneath your dress completely and you stand up on both feet. Your hands don't leave her shoulders however, needing the support.
"Issa daor litse."
(It is not fair)
You breathe out, after a moment's silence.
"Hm?"
"Lo nyke sia vala nyke could gūrogon ao naejot Zaldrīzesdōron se mazverdagon ao ñuha ābrazȳrys."
(If I were a man I could take you to Dragonstone and make you my wife.)
"Nobody would question it."
You suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes. Rhaenyra notices and places a tender kiss on your forehead. You quickly wrap your arms around her.
The both of you stay like that for a beat.
"Then take me to Dragonstone." Rhaenyra simply states.
You scoff.
"Do not mock me, Princess."
Rhaenyra lets out a chuckle before stepping away from you, intertwining your fingers.
"No, it isn't fair."
She lifts your intertwined hands to her lips and plants a kiss on the back of your palm.
She guides you down the hallway and the two of you resume your walk.
"Ivestragī's jikagon lenton."
(Let's go home)
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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year
Text
Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)
Part 10
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Epilogue
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Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!
Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)
A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.
GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)
Previously on Just Pretend
"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."
~
"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."
~
Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.
~
"Are we not friends, y/n?"
"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."
"I don't hate you. I think."
~
Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.
"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."
~
"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.
"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
~
"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.
"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.
"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."
~
"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."
~
"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."
~
Now...
"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"
You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?
"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."
And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.
"He's in love with you, stupid."
That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.
But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.
But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.
"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"
Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.
"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."
She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.
"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"
You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.
Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?
“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”
Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.
“I’m … what?”
“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”
“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.
“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”
There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.
“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.
“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”
“No, you’re just being a bitch.”
Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?
“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”
“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”
Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.
“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”
“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”
Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,
“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”
And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.
“I’ll see you there, darling.”
Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.
Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.
[You]: PABLO
[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID
Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.
[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small
[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car
There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.
[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text
[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho
"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.
"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.
"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''
"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.
"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.
"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.
"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."
Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?
"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.
"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,
"More like six months actually."
"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.
"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.
"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.
"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.
"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."
"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.
"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."
[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours
The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.
[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy
"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.
"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,
"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."
There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.
"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.
Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.
"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."
"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.
"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."
"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.
"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"
"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.
"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."
[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)
You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...
[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?
[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass
"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.
"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.
"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).
"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"
The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.
"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."
"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.
"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.
"Pedri, I'm worried."
The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.
"What're you worried about?"
Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.
"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."
"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.
"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.
"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"
"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."
"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"
"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.
"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.
"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"
Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.
"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."
As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.
"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.
"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.
"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."
You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.
"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."
Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.
~
"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."
"Oh."
"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."
You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.
"Wait you have a balcony?"
That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.
The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.
"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"
Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.
"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.
"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.
"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.
"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?
"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."
Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.
It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.
"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."
His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.
"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."
You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.
Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.
"Remember the first time we met?"
"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.
"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."
Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,
"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."
You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.
"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.
"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"
This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.
"Pablo..."
The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.
"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.
"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."
"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.
"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."
There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.
"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.
"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."
"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."
Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.
Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.
Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.
"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.
"Do you want a sandwich?"
~
"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.
"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.
"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"
"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.
The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.
"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.
"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.
"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"
"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.
"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.
"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"
"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.
"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"
"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.
"Come lay next to me while you rant."
Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.
"You want me to?"
"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"
"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."
"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"
You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.
"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.
"Oh, right - where was I?"
"She never put any effort into the relationship."
"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.
"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.
"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.
"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.
"So we have two more matches with you?"
"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.
"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.
"So after that, what? What's next?"
"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."
"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.
"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."
"At the what?"
"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"
"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.
Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.
"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."
Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.
"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"
You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.
"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.
"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."
""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').
"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."
"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."
"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"
"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.
"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."
This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.
Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.
~
"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."
"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."
"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."
"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."
The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.
"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.
"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.
"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."
It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.
"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."
Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.
"Think we're going to win?"
"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."
"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."
"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.
"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."
"Are you allowed to do that?"
"Who's going to stop me?"
"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."
"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."
"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."
"A screamer."
You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.
"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."
Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.
The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.
An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.
They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.
"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).
"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.
"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.
"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.
~
@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them
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@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to
@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle
@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????
@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her
You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.
[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3
[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet
[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.
And now the most recent one had come through:
[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!
The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.
[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.
[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.
[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.
You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.
He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.
[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris
"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."
"First of all, we're not friends-"
"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.
"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."
"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.
"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"
~
"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."
Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.
"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."
It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.
"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"
"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."
The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.
"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.
"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.
"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."
"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."
"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."
"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."
After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.
"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.
"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.
"I try and keep up."
"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"
"I can't afford-"
"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"
You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.
"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.
"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)
"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.
"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.
"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.
"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."
"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"
"Let's not open that can of worms."
~
"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.
"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."
"The... what?"
"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.
"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.
"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."
"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"
"Yes."
"And my accomodation..?"
"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"
"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.
"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"
The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.
"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.
He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.
"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."
"He looks at her like he's in love."
"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."
Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.
"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.
The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.
"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.
"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.
"Pedri! Gavi!"
You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.
"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.
"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.
"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.
"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.
"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.
"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.
"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".
"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.
"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.
"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.
"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.
"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.
"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.
"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.
"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.
"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.
"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."
"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.
"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."
"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."
"I won't Pablo."
"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.
"What are you.. what was that?"
"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."
He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.
"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."
He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.
~
"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."
It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.
"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.
"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."
"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.
"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."
"I do really want to see her in a dress."
"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.
He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.
"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"
"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."
"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"
He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.
"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.
"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"
The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.
"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.
Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.
"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.
"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."
"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.
"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.
"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."
A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.
"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.
"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.
"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.
~
"And the winner is... Gavi."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.
"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."
All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.
~
Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.
"Pablo! There you are!"
He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).
"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.
"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.
Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.
"Y/N! There you are."
Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.
"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.
"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.
"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.
"I'm really nothing special."
"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."
You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.
"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"
Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.
"Hermano, are you-"
"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.
"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."
"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."
"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."
"What?"
"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."
A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.
He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.
"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."
Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.
"Please don't be in love with someone else."
He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.
He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.
"Pablo?"
He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.
"Are you looking for something?"
"Please, tell me he's not in there."
"Who, Pablo?"
"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."
There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.
"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."
This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.
Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.
You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.
"Your award, Pablo."
"You're my real prize of this evening."
"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.
"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.
"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.
"I mean if you don't want to-"
"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."
"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."
~
You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.
"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.
"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.
"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.
"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.
"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.
"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.
"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.
"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.
"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.
"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.
"Pablo it's too good."
"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."
He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.
"Open up, pretty girl."
"Pablo, want you. Want you please."
"I'm right here, baby. All yours."
You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.
"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."
He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.
"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.
"Pablo. I..."
"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.
"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Please don't leave me after we have sex."
He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.
"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.
"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.
"Pablo," you whined.
He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.
"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.
"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.
"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.
"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.
"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."
You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.
"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.
"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.
"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.
"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.
"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.
"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"
You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.
"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."
"I love you more, Pablo."
"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."
He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.
[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano
~
The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.
"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."
His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.
"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."
There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.
"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."
"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.
"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."
"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."
"I hope you never stop."
~
A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.
*~*Taglist*~*
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snapscube · 7 hours
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More over to the old playthroughs. Do you miss the old format of Let's Plays where you would play a game and stop at a certain point to fit in the video? Because nowadays, people just make long streams of them playing a game, and cut a lot of the gameplay from vods so it can fit it in a video of 20 to 25 minutes
i definitely reminisce on the simplicity of the old "record for 15-20 minutes (or hell even like 8-10 if we're talking EARRLLYY youtube), stop the recording, start the next one, repeat" format in a nostalgic sense but practically I haven't made any playthroughs like that in a long time nor have i really wanted to. i think whether an episode is recorded standalone or cut from larger footage doesn't matter as much as if it's done well with an intentional focus on the flow of everything. i've had plenty of times in recent years where i've even had to split VODs apart cause they were too long and unwieldy otherwise, but i always make sure to cut it in a spot that makes sense and doesn't feel too jarring. and usually i try to make sure that the next portion of it comes VERY soon after so people aren't left wondering why there's no outro for too long and can be like ahhhh it rolls right into the next one. it's just a bit easier to get into a flow state with either conversation or gameplay if u don't have to constantly check the clock, which can be nice for the final product! depends on who u are tho!
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laz-laz-ace-pilot · 7 months
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Plushie Fundraiser For Gaza
Hi everyone. The situation in Gaza is getting worse by the day and donations are desperately needed. With that in mind, I'm going to be offering handmade and commission plushies to help raise funds.
What I'm making
- For Star Wars fans
I have several patterns already for smaller star wars creatures, including for tookas, varactyls, banthas and more! All of these are available as larger plushies, as well as wampas and rancors, plus some droids like BD1. If there's another star wars critter you'd like that's not listed, I would happily draw up a pattern and make them!
(Please excuse the quality of photos)
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- For animal and dinosaur fans
I have plenty of patterns for a wide range of animals and dinosaurs and would be happy to make any of these; again if I don't have a pattern I will happily draw one up for you!
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I can also supersize any pattern for giant plushies!
What you need to do
-Contact me if you're interested so we can discuss fabrics, colours and size
-Make a donation to UNRWA, PCRF or one of the verified family fundraisers. Send me a receipt of your donation and I will send back confirmation that I've begun working on your commission
- All donations are welcome and seriously needed, but in order to make this fundraiser viable I'm asking for $25 donation for small plush, $45 for large plush and $70 for giant plush. Donate over $100 and within reason I'll make whatever you want!
- If you want to tip me for postage that would be greatly appreciated! Otherwise, if posting a plush to you is not an option, I'll happily send you the pattern for a $10 donation
Please help reblog this post so it can reach as many people as possible
Please help people in Gaza and if you have any questions let me know!
Update (15/02/24): $45 donated!!!
Update (16/02/24): we're at $70!
Update (19/02/24): we're at $100! Thank you everyone!
Update (06/05/24) the fundraiser is on hold for now
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crazystargirl · 10 months
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it's over y/n! i have the high ground! ♥︎
pairing - jack champion x fem!reader
(NOT PROOFREAD)
a/n - this is literally as old as my writing acc- (p.s. this may be one of the last jack/ethan fics i ever post since ong coriolanus snow HAS A CHOKEHOLD ON ME)
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"Y/n, my allegiance is to the Republic, to Democracy!"
How did you get here again?
Oh yeah, Jack had dragged you to Disney World a few days early and it was all fun until he dragged you into the gift shop and spent a whole hour there.
You were utterly convinced that your boyfriend was secretly a 10 year old. Like who goes to Disney World and buys 300 dollars worth of lightsabers? Only Jack but you had to admit some of them were actually really cool.
And the minute you guys got home, Jack insisted on recreating a scene from one of the movies. You initially said no since you were exhausted from the day's events but Jack gave you his puppy eyes, knowing you couldn't say no to those. You gave in and he decided he wanted to recreate Anakin and Obi-Wan's iconic fight from Revenge of the Sith.
As much as you wanted to be Obi-Wan for obvious reasons, Jack once again convinced you to let him be Obi-Wan. God you loved him but sometimes it wasn't fair how easily he was able to convince you.
So here you were now and after rereading the script for that scene, you finally got down the lines. 
"If you're not with me, you're my enemy" you manage to say with a straight face despite wanting to laugh because of Jack's overly dramatic shocked face. 
"Only a sith lord deals in absolutes, i will do what i must"
"You will try…"
You both ignite your lightsabers and Jack immediately advances over to you, clashing his lightsaber with yours. Since he is taller and stronger you stumbled back a few times, but were able to get back on your feet and return his hits with the same energy.
After fighting for what felt like hours, you guys had made a huge mess of all the pillows in the hotel room but you could care less. 
Eventually you're standing on the couch and Jack is standing on the bed, which in all honesty makes him more intimidating than before since he's so tall. His head is also about to hit the ceiling but you're not about to mention that to him. 
"I have failed you y/n. I was never able to teach you how to think"
You suppress a smile as you say your next line.
"I should've known the jedi were plotting to take over…"
"From the sith point of view, y/n my love, chancellor palpatine is evil"
You giggle so much at his words that you almost fall off the couch
"From the jedi point of view! Jack, from my point of view the jedi are evil"
"Well than you are lost!"
"This is the end for you my love! I wish it were otherwise"
You jump on the bed and start fighting with Jack until you end up on the couch again.
"It’s over y/n, I have the high ground!"
"You underestimate my power jack!"
"Don't try it baby"
You start to jump on the bed and Jack hits you in the knee with the light saber. You let out a scream and Jack freezes, actually thinking he hurt you. You use this to your advantage and get on the bed, forgetting about what actually happened in the movie. 
After fighting for 5 minutes, Jack gets you on the ground and pins you there with his body weight
"Jack get off of me! You're so fucking heavy!" 
"Noooo you have to surrender first!"
He starts peppering kisses on your face as you struggle from under him.
"Ok Jack, i actually surrender, i'm gonna actually suffocate from under you."
He got up and wrapped himself around you. You wrapped yourself around him too and you guys just stayed like that for a while. Eventually you started squirming to let him know you guys needed to get up. He got the hint and untangled himself from you.
"Well that was fun but we're leaving tomorrow and we need to clean up the mess we made…"
Jack gets up and looks around. He stands there for a bit and thinks.
"Why don't we just go get some food first?"
"Jack…we have to clean up and then we can get food."
He turns back to you and throws you over his shoulder. He starts walking to the door of the hotel room.
"I think we can go get food and then we can clean up…or play again" He says with a smirk.
You sigh and stop trying to escape from his grasp. Your boyfriend is truly something else
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@xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @urmomcomsiimiamour, @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz, @phsychobanana
© crazystargirl 2023 || do NOT copy or repost my work without my permission
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badaziraphaletakes · 2 months
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We've got a wriggly one
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Love a good "Ooh I'm probably going to make myself unpopular here" at the opening of an offensive post. We're off to a very good start.
If you have to preface your take with four paragraphs of disclaimers explaining how not-ableist you are, then I Have Got Some News For You
"Before you accuse me of being ableist"... I have literally never heard this phrase not followed immediately by a giant ableism, and this is no exception
"I'm not." That's not how this works. It's something we all have to fight against every day. No one is just "not ableist". We all have ableist biases that we need to work hard to be aware of and keep in check. If you think you're just "not ableist", period, end of story, that's concerning in itself.
Disabled people can literally still be ableist (and saying otherwise is in itself ableist). We’re all products of an ableist society, so we all have structural internalized ableism inside us. Just because you are not aware that you’re doing it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. It can be unconscious. It very often is.
"I've been a disability advocate for years, so I'm entitled to tell other Disabled people how to feel about their own representation" quit weaponizing your Disabled identity to oppress other Disabled people, also, I can already tell I literally never want this person as my advocate, ever
7. The Autistics never, ever need or want alltistics to speak on our behalf, so if you're not Autistic then you are most welcome to shut absolutely and completely up at your earliest convenience
8. “This is as close as I can come to being gentle"... I have an alternative theory, which is that OP could, in fact, manage to be gentle if they really tried. For example, I do not have to be scathing right now in this reply. I am doing it because that is a choice I have actively made.
9. "I say things that people misunderstand" is never a defense. Most of the time, it's victim-blaming. And by the way, if this isn't a defense for Autistic people (spoiler alert: it's definitely not), then it sure as hell isn't a defense for alltistics.
10. "This isn't meant to invalidate people's opinions" *Spends the whole post invalidating people's opinions*
11. "Unless the book specifically says x, y, or z, you're not allowed to... say that something is ableist" umm wow
12. If Autistic people say a character (a character written by an Autistic author, no less) is Autistic-coded, then yelling "no they're not" at us is a very concerning thing for someone to be doing. To anyone doing this, just think about a. Why you feel the need to talk over Autistic people about that and b. why it bothers you to have people say that character is Autistic. Seriously, take some time and think about it. And also - if you can't see how Aziraphale is Autistic-coded - how did you miss that lol? Also also - how is thinking a character isn't Autistic your "personal experience" of that character that you feel the need to cling to? ...That gives me the ick.
13. Calling someone out for doing something ableist is not "name-calling".
14. "If someone read one of my [books?]..." I'm assuming this sentence ends "I wouldn't want people deciding one of my characters was x, y, or z". Well, guess what? - If it's a book you're finished with, then it's out of your hands what people do with it now. And if everyone from the autism community is saying your character is Autistic-coded, then guess what? Congratulations, you inadvertently (or, I suspect, advertently in NG's case ^^) wrote an Autistic-coded character! Seriously, take some time to read about what "coded" means and how characters are coded as Autistic. We're not saying Azi and the Starmaker are literally, conically Autistic. We're saying they're Autistic coded. And we’re saying he has autistic traits that autistic people identify with, and calling him selfish or cruel or lacking empathy or emotionally unintelligent (just a few of the common autism stereotypes that people have flung at Aziraphale) or things like that BECAUSE OF THOSE TRAITS is ableist.
When Aziraphale struggles socially and people call him selfish or stupid because of it, how am I (someonewho struggles socially every damn day) supposed to take that?
IN CONCLUSION: In trying to tell marginalized communities why we're wrong to think certain takes are offensive, people invariably end up just saying a bunch more offensive things - and in doing so, prove exactly the point we were trying to make in the first place.
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