#-that are either extremely hard to find or gone forever
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unar-mage-ddon · 1 year ago
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im ready for khml to a very normal and sane extent
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#..i hate to say it#but im really glad Tumblr user vigilskeep is out here Lucanisposting so much and like#showcasing exta depths of appeal tec#*etc#bc overall i think he's sharing the dead last spot with Harding for me 😭#and at least with her it's mostly me not liking any of the post inq lore and sort of sighing at the story (neutral)#with him i just... find him really underwhelming 😭#like my worldstate being- crow- abomination - and then getting handed a CROW ABOMINATION#but he doesn't hold a candle to either of them 😭 just sort of sucks#and ship wise... IM SORRY. IM SORRY. I WANTED TO LIKE IT BUT.. Neve is too good for him. she deserves so much better#than essentially a death warrant#and i don't even see Lucanis and Davrin at all they feel far too lukewarm to either fit a rivalry OR a general romance dynamic#and i feel so bad for saying all of this bc i do like spite. and lucanis when he's allowed a personality outside of coffee#but then even that final line in the endgame of him romance read to me like they were trying to recreate Zev's so badd#you'll never match up to a declaration of marching into the black city itself when that actually felt like impossible odds within the world#give it up#sighhh i don't know#i think his character overall really needed.. SOMETHING more. there's repressed and then there's “my writer got laid off and it shows”#such a love hate relationship with this game#which dont get me wrong - at least the love is there which is more than i can say about inquisition#but from this to the meh dwarven lore to the sudden switch to 21st century language with Taash... i hate it hereee 😭#at least solas is gone from the narrative forever now that gives me joy#i will still have to bear seeing solas fans ( cough and weekes) hailing him a masterpiece of storytelling#when really everything he represents from the very starting concept of the Evanuris being evil in inq has been religiously insensitive -#AT BEST#extremely racist at worst#and this post that was originally about being underwhelmed by a companion the more I think about him got away from me#thinking about Solas and the gods isn't healthy for me i start morphing into anger inside out#possessed by a rage demon if you will#i shall sleep now and hope that helps maybe 😭
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freaksun · 2 months ago
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Hi if you are taking requests I’m in a super soft mood.
Would you do something with Eddie not being used to affection? Super touch starved. And when he and reader start dating he is tense when you first show that your love language is physical touch? And slowly. Not to scare him you try to show and convince him he deserves nothing but kindness and loving touches?
hi honey!! always taking requests, i just take forever to answer them haha :)
your boyfriend, eddie munson, had a hard childhood - that was clear.
for one, he grew up with his uncle wayne instead of two parents. you’ve met mr munson, and he’s a truly sweet man, but you’re pretty sure he didn’t plan on raising a child.
he told you his mom died and his dad is gone but not much else and you don’t want to pry. you figure he’ll tell you on his own time and that’s good enough for you. mostly, you just want him to know he’s safe with you.
the only part that bothers you is that his past trauma has convinced him he isn’t worthy of soft touches and patience and your everlasting devotion. you have to fix this, you decide.
you noticed pretty early into the relationship that he’s timid around physical intimacy - not necessarily sex, more the sweet and loving caresses you offer him daily - since every time you mold yourself to his back in bed he suddenly has to ‘get to work’.
at first it really hurt your feelings. he could have sex with you (with minimal nervousness) but he couldn’t cuddle you??
but then the heartbreaking realization set in that he just cant let you show that you love him. cant let you be tender with the parts of him you know have been crushed by people meant to protect him.
so, you start small.
eddie gets all worked up sometimes talking about things he loves, so you wait for him to get all excited and distracted and then you start gently twirling his hair between your fingers while he goes on and on.
eventually it evolves to you running your hands through his hair, lightly massaging his head while he unknowingly unravels in front of you. you rake your nails over his scalp, scratching his stress away.
you can tell how much he appreciates such a small gesture by the way he sinks into your touch, a warm smile on his sleepy face.
he starts to expect it, much to your delight. whenever he realizes he’s getting super into a discussion he cozies up to you, laying his head in your lap usually by slumping onto you and forcing you to lay down so you can be his teddy bear.
you’re extremely proud of this progress, even moreso when he sleepily turns one evening, smushing his face against your thigh and sighing contently. you don’t stop petting his hair until you feel his breathing slow against the inside of your leg.
you figure it was a combination of you talking instead of him, and the long awful day he apparently had at work. either way, you thank the stars and make sure not to wake him. it grows your ego substantially knowing your voice guided him to a peaceful sleep.
the next morning you wake up with him still wrapped around your waist, cheek smushed into your tummy. you’re both still in your clothes, eddie in his dirty work overalls cause he couldn’t wait to cuddle you, and neither of you expected him to fall asleep. you pet his head softly - its practically instinctive whenever you see him, especially snoring softly like this
he stirs when you rake your nails across his back gently, drawing swirls and patterns on him while he’s still too sleepy to protest. his eyes meet yours, his hair adorably disheveled. he looks incredibly disoriented and confused and all you can do is smile at your puppy of a boyfriend.
“..did we fall asleep like this?” his voice comes out all gravelly how you love, its always like that in the morning, you’ve come to find out.
“yes” you giggile, fixing a stray curl. “you fell asleep like this, honey.”
he blushes and gets nervous as usual, you’re familiar with his patterns, but he doesn’t move - not yet.
you take advantage of that fact, lifting his chin so he’s forced to look at you again. this time when you look into his wide eyes, you sense guilt.
“eddie, i liked it.” you smile, moving to rub his cheek, your thumb swiping gently just below his eye. “is there some reason you think i wouldn’t? o-or did you not like it?” he panics when your smile falters, lips twitching in hesitation.
“No!” he yelps a little too loud, awkward in that sitcom way he’s always been. charming, you think.
“O-of course i liked it, baby..” his eyes flick between obeying and keeping eye contact and staring down to avoid you.
“you’re so warm.. ‘n soft..” his eyes meet yours again and theres a sincerety and vulnerability you’ve never seen. close, maybe, but this is new.
“yeah?” you coo, coaxing him further into this soft space you’ve unlocked for him.
he nods, a coy smile forming. “I like touching you, y/n. i-i always want to i-im just..” you rub his cheek. “cautious. i guess. ‘m scared.” he looks up at you again, wide eyes beaming in a way that makes you think his pupils are just holes peering into the sparkling of his heart. its clear he’s opening himself to you in a way no one’s seen before. maybe other than his mom. its an honour you refuse to waste.
“what are you scared of ed?” not once do you stop softly petting him , his cheeks, his hair, his neck, a thumb across his lip.
“I just.. i dunno. you’re so soft, so sweet and kind and i-“ he falters, and you immediately hug him to you, rubbing his back. “its ok, honey. take your time, im here.” he sighs, his hands grasping you for comfort.
“i dont wanna break you. or lose you..” he admits, maybe for the first time to himself at all. your heart breaks. obviously you could assume with what you know about his past but the details and results never stop hurting. you wish you could’ve saved him, could’ve saved his mother and given him a better father. or just taken him far, far away.
now, all you can do is hold him. one hand in his hair, one rubbing his back and you kiss the top of his head.
“im not going anywhere.” you promise, your lips still pressed in his hair.
“gonna stay and cuddle you forever, teddy” your hand sneaks under his shirt and rubs his back, up and down the soft skin. its vulnerable in a literal and figurative way you cant fully process in the moment but later you’ll cry over how poetic and sentimental it is.
you feel him sink into you, letting his weight crush you a little. his voice rumbles where hes hiding his face, a small “promise?” muffled by your chest.
you frown, wishing he never had to feel this way.
“I promise, eddie. m’yours” you can feel him smile, giddy and childish in this state.
“and you’re mine” you giggle as he rubs his face into you like a cat displaying affection.
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hyomaslut · 1 year ago
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──★ ˙🍆 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends. 18+!
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☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟷
✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage ✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, you and chigiri are talking about npc college drama, proofread??? ✿ ─ notes: honestly the smau aspect was so hard cuz im a perfectionist and wanted read reciets and everything. all the apps for them suck. i managed :))) and i rlly hope you guys like it :)) feedback appreciated. i put chigiri's at the end cuz its so long. part 2 is here!!!!
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ISAGI YOICHI...
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your fingers fly across the keyboard to tell him that yes, you were very serious. isagi literally jumps out of bed to go shower and everything. he has been crushing on you since forever and god knows he’s not blowing this chance you’ve given him by sending a shitty picture. you get an image attachment 20 minutes later, yoichi standing in front of his foggy bathroom mirror, the phone in his hand covering half of his face. he’s barely out of the shower, hair dripping wet and towel hanging extremely loose around his hips. his other hand sits at the base of his dick, acting as both a size comparison and a way to draw your attention to it. it’s obviously of decent length as far as you could tell, but the girth. you cant even pretend your mouth doesn’t start watering at the sight.
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ITOSHI RIN...
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you don’t have time to feel all that bummed about it though, because within a few minutes you’re shocked to get a picture from rin, the camera facing downwards towards his legs. nothing would be all that out of the ordinary if it weren’t the obvious tent in his shorts. the fabric around his crotch looks stretched by his hard dick fighting against the confines of his soccer uniform. it’s not exactly what you asked for, but you can’t find it in you to complain, because it’s way more than you actually expected to get. your mind starts racing. he’s hard from just a few suggestive texts? that means one of two things. either he really is a virgin like you thought he’d be, and the littlest of acts gets him riled up. or he’s just that into you. both of those possibilities sounded like fun. and the idea of those possibilities made you greedy. enough to push your luck.
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MIKAGE REO...
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two pictures come in quickly and you laugh at the idea of him rushing to take these for you. he sends the first one, taken standing in front of the full length mirror in his boxers, dragging down the waist band of them so you can see the first few inches of his shaft, phone in front of his face. he’s perfectly clean shaven, zooming in closer, maybe he waxes it? you can’t help but be impressed by his attention to detail. it’s so reo that it makes you smile. second one is sitting down in some fancy looking suede armchair, underwear gone, cock in one hand while the other splays over the bottom half of his face, poorly covering the wide self-satisfied smirk. you assumed he set up his phone with a timer considering he wasn’t holding it. as you stare at it, the initial evaluating that everyone does when they receive a dick pic fades away, and you feel heat creep up your face. reo was really hot, and just this once you figured it wouldn’t hurt to tell him you thought so.
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CHIGIRI HYOMA...
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you get through the stressful minutes waiting for his response by chewing on your nails. maybe you really just fucked it all up. but then, to your surprise, a photo loads in. its hyoma sitting on his bed in front of his mirror, his fingers buried in his hair to push it out of his face in possibly the sexiest way you’ve ever seen. his other hand holds his phone, his pretty face in full view with his gaze locked on the screen. your eyes can’t help but travel down to the only part of your crush you haven’t seen. and boy was it worth the wait. his dick curves up towards his abs and its a lot bigger than you expected. long and a perfectly pink tip. you bite your lip at the thought of it stretching you out, and then feel slightly guilty for thinking of him that way, as if you haven’t done it plenty of times during your so-called dry spell. if the whole soccer thing doesn’t work out, you’re sure he could be a pin up model. or maybe a greek god.
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hyoma's got long again ;-; mb,,, but can you blame me??? i want to do a part two with at least nagi and bachira, but idk who else i want to include. open to suggestions ♡
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months ago
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Yandere Sibling Cat Hybrids: Patricia and Pepper
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Deciding to take on hybrids was something you were hesitant to do 
Besides being morally controversial for you, it was a huge hit to your spending money
But you got tired of the faux pride you got donating to hybrid-care facilities 
So instead you decide to walk into a shelter (one with good practices)
And you tell them upfront that you’re willing to open your home and heart to the ones who need you most
Crippled, rejected for looks, attitude problems
The helper lights up and then deflates before asking some leading questions
“Do you like cats?”
And that is how you are given Patricia and Pepper
This sister and brother duo are two sides of the same kind
Patricia has a luxuriously long tail and grooming routine that matches
“Are you illiterate? The signed packet told you I needed to be groomed, shampooed, and conditioned regularly.”
“Well yeah, that’s why I left everything in the bathroom.”
“Hold on! You think I’m doing this myself?! Nuh-Uh, You have so much to learn! Grab the brush and pull up a stool, now!”
Demanding as she is gorgeous Patricia is a cat girl with expensive tastes
Until that day she’ll likely swipe your credit card to buy the incredibly overpriced brand-powered shampoo 
And just curl her lip at you when you confront her
“Don’t cry, if you keep working hard I’m sure you’ll pay it off.”
For as unhelpful and arrogant as she is, her brother is an extreme opposite
“I know you showed us to those extra rooms just for us but i-if you don’t mind my stench I think I can serve you better in your room!”
“What?!”
“I’ll be happy to sleep on the floor! I promise I’ll be useful!”
Pepper’s always so eager to help and talk himself down
You’ll literally have to fight him to make sure he’s sleeping and taking care of himself instead of the home
“P–please I’ll probably eat once I finish cleaning this one last thing.”
“Probably?! No, you look like you’ve lost too much weight!”
“Nooo please!”
This dynamic will be going on for a long while 
You going to work and returning home to find either Pepper in danger needlessly risking his life 
Or Patricia throwing out all of your childhood memorabilia because she felt it was tacky
Maybe for once you shed a tear
Or you yell
Or you just completely shut down from any conversation 
In the end, you leave 
For a long time
Longer than you’d go to the store or even work
You’re just gone
“Pat I think you did it again. You scared them off!”
“I scared them off? Please I know very few people who’d be happy coming home to a corpse.”
“At least I was trying to be useful!”
“I took care of the grooming they didn’t do, that’s plenty generous.”
“Thanks to you, they’re sending us away! I really liked this one!”
“Don’t blame me, you cur! They’re leaving because you appall them!”
They argue for hours
Because they are siblings
And it helps with filling the sound of you going through your nightly routine
By the end of it, both of their hair are sticking out 
they’re pacing while nervously staring at the door
So many thoughts in their head 
The embarrassment of being sent back
The disappointment and scorn from the employees when they return
The pain they felt when you reacted the way you did
The suffocating fear of you leaving them forever
They’ve had absent owners…but they were always that way
You were there even if you sighed and scolded them, you were still there
You might’ve kept to yourself but you didn’t ignore them
At the end of the day, they still ate together with you
… They really didn’t like this
When the lock on the door clicks and the light clicking of a turn begins 
They’re leaping for the door
Capturing you in a hug you can’t escape from
“We missed you! I-I’m very sorry! I fished out and cleaned everything! Please forgive me! And please don’t just send me away! Oh and my brother too.”
“PLEASEDON’TSENDUSAWAYPLEASEDON’TPLEASEPLEASEIMIGHTBEPUSHEDTOSTRAPABOMBTOMYSELFANDBLOWINGUP—”
“Whoa whoa, I’m not sending you guys away. Also, Pepper what was that you were going to say?”
“WAAAAHHHH tHANK THAank YOu! WAHHH” 
After Pepper can breathe, you don’t mind sitting down with them to finally speak
“I’m glad you’re not sending us away. I was certain you found us annoying enough to.”
“Oh no I do find you two annoying.”
“What?! wwwwWAAHHHH!”
“But I’m not going to send you away because of that. Also, I think it’s pretty crummy that I can even do that after all the paperwork I signed.”
“WAHH! I’M ANNOYING!?”
“Yes, Pepper now shush. That’s very mature of you I also appreciate your honesty.”
 Ultimately they relax when it comes to being sent away
But they’re worried that you barely address your annoyance 
“Even my friends annoy me. It’s not that bad.”
“But it is. I–we pushed you so far…we’d like not to do this again.”
“I-I think…Pat and I just want to please you…maybe more than just what your morals allow.”
Thus a new routine has begun
One that won’t have you leaving for hours on end
“Good Evening dirt on my heels, who’s going to give me a gift big enough to buy that Prada collar I’ve been eying?”
Now Patricia streams finding a small group of people willing to fund her interests allowing her to contribute to the home 
Pepper continues to clean up the house but with new parameters
“Here (Y/n)! I took pictures of me eating all my meals today! See? Now can I get head pats?”
This works allowing them not to get on your nerves while you navigate life with your two hybrids
If they have any say in it that’ll be all you’ll be aware of
On the other side, Patricia and Pepper are taking their independence very seriously
“Pepper, did you finish your dossier on the coworker who called yesterday?”
“I did, here’s the file. I’ve already gone to the trouble of mapping out their routine; highlighting the best times depending on the method we use.”
“Good work. Now next report?”
“Yes! I found this while cuddling (Y/n) last night~ They got all giggly when I touched a specific spot with my tail.”
“...Last night where was I?”
“Dealing with the neighbor’s loud little pest.”
“Right…For equal treatment, I’ll be initiating our cuddle session tonight.’
“Hahaha…nice imagination Patty but that’s my job.”
Somehow fighting between the siblings still persist but you’d take that over the stalemate you two had before
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ash5monster01 · 8 months ago
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52nd Street
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Chapter Six - Until The Night 🎶
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: 18+, angst, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, dirty talk, praise, no use of protection, language.
Summary: Finally at a real job, Steve finds that the both of you aren’t as close anymore. He yearns for the nights when you two are finally alone.
word count: 3.2k
Five ←→ Seven
Masterlist
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Fall 1990
But now it feels as though the day goes on forever
It was great, at first. It was great when you planned the beautiful backyard wedding, and it was great when Steve landed his big job, even better when you were able to save up enough to buy back Steve’s childhood home. You were both living the dream, enjoying the married life, and finally doing what you both pictured when you first started dating. Thing was, no one ever really brings up how hard it can be.
When you were just dating it was easy, you both worked the same job, got to go home to your apartment together, were extremely involved in the other’s life. Now Steve left for work and you worked from home. When you were done with that you ran errands, and found yourself lacking any conviction in life. As for Steve, the job would run him down, doing the very thing he promised himself he never would, but he wanted to provide for you. Wanted to share a life that wasn’t constantly a struggle and if work was the only thing he had to sacrifice, then so be it. Just sometimes, he couldn’t shake that mood when he got home.
Because of all of this you had lost some of that passion, that desperation to always be with each other, and Steve was determined to get it back. He did his part, he never asked where you go during the day when he leaves for work in the morning, the both of you going your different ways to seperate situations, and it wasn't that easy anymore. It was required of him to do what must be done and give his time to total strangers. He could no longer save that all for you and it made his days feel like they go on forever. More than they ever did before. So today, on this very Friday he promised himself he would make the most of it. Until the night, when he could make it up to you. He might just make it, eyes trained on the clock and small pile of paperwork in front of him.
"Hey Lenny" you smile fondly at the bag boy that had been working in the local grocery for a few months now. Considering you went shopping at the same time every other Friday, you had come to know many of the workers here.
"Hey Mrs. Harrington, beautiful day today" the sweet young boy answered and you couldn't help but cringe at the name. Mrs. made you feel old, which hopefully you weren’t yet. Then again you were married at twenty three, feeling vaguely like a teenager and an adult all at the same time. You always wondered if things would have been different if you and Steve had gone to college. Either way, you only liked it when Steve called you Mrs. Harrington because it normally led to something a bit more pleasing.
"One of the last good ones Lenny, it'll be cold before you know it" you grinned at him as you loaded the items onto the belt, already mentally checking off that you had everything you would need for the next two weeks. Lost in another world you do not notice the big haired brunnette rolled up behind you. Startling almost instantly when she calls your name.
"Hey Nancy" you grin at her, her soft feautres beaming back at you. Still gorgeous as the first day you met her, you can't help but feel the twinge in your gut everytime you remember she was the first girl your husband loved. You had to remind yourself that was another lifetime ago, years seperating the two and now you were married to Steve and she was engaged to Johnathon, the wedding invite for this coming summer already on your fridge.
"How're you, how's Steve, heard he finally took that big job his Dad offered him? You'll have to have us over for dinner soon, I'm desperate to see how you redecorated" she rambles out, too many thoughts on the forefront of her mind and suddenly you feel overwehlmed. Mind stuck on your absent husband who tried his hardest but couldn't escape the effects of his job. How bored you were all alone all day just to have Steve come home to tired to talk. To tired to do anything really.
Nancy see's the tears rimming your eyes almost instantly and she suddenly feels guilty for anything she had said wrong. She's quick to beckon you along, helping you with your groceries and pretty soon it's not long until you are both stood out of the store, bagged items clinking along in your carts. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing, really, I'm just overwehlmed" you try to tell her, eyes red and strained from fighting off tears. She shakes her head as you both reach your car, her automatically helping. You already felt bad for scarring Lenny with your meltdown.
"Talk to me, you know I'll understand" she urges, eyes full of fondness and you know it's true. She knew what it was like to be in a long time relationship at your age, she was going through it the same as you, and if anyone understood it would be her. With this in mind you let out a heavy sigh and decide to allow it.
"Steve has just been distant lately. It's not his fault, I know it's the job. He never wanted to work for his Dad, you know that, but he took the job for us. He wanted something that could sustain a future and I agreed, but now we've lost that connection. He comes home too tired for me and sometimes I wonder if we would've been better off staying in our small apartment and running that stupid video store" you spill, all of your fears and emotions barren for the girl who least expected to be in the store parking lot with you, sharing your sadness.
"That's not true, and I'm sure he feels bad about it too. Steve loves you, I see it everytime he looks at you. You guys are just stuck right now" she says with the soft shake of her head and you can't help but sigh. You weren't sure how much more you could take with this no talking thing.
“God I hope you’re right, it would be so tragic if the end of us was something as silly as this. Especially when the whole reason he proposed was because I promised I’d love him just the way he is” you say, hands pressing up to your eyes to relieve some tension and tears. Nancy shifts uncomfortably, knowing she was probably part of the very reason Steve had those trust issues. A lifetime ago she had once called the entirety of him bullshit and she regretted it always.
“Just, try to talk to him tonight. Who knows, maybe things will be different” she smiles at you, silver engagement ring glimmering in the sun as she sets the last of your bags in the trunk. You smile right back, collecting the small brunette into a hug.
“Thanks Nance, we’ll have you and Johnathon over for dinner soon. I promise” you tell her and she smiles, hugging you back tightly.
“Good luck tonight” she tells you as she pulls back, gentle features searching your own and you smile, a weight already lifted from your shoulders after your brief talk with her.
“Until the night” you nod and she gives one last smile and wave before pushing her cart to her own car and leaving you to make your way home. Until the night, you just might make it, when you see him again.
You’re only halfway through putting groceries away when you hear the familiar rumble of the BMW pull into the driveway. You hate the way your shoulders deflate just at the idea of Steve coming in and barely paying you any mind. So you continue to put the groceries away as he makes his way in, tie already loose around his neck as he spots you working away in the kitchen.
Steve notices how you barely even turn to greet him, a sad smile on your face as you continue to do what you always did on Friday nights when he got home. He can see how afraid you are that you’ve both changed but sadly the two of you were just getting older. No longer eighteen year old kids excited to explore the big world. You both had been through a lot and he hated that he was slowly turning into his father. A shell of a man no longer in touch with the love he might’ve shared. This very thought is what brings him to walk towards you and wrap his arms around you from behind.
“Hi Rosy” he breathily whispers, head ducking and placing a kiss on the expanse of your neck. You can’t help but stiffen in his arms, almost shocked by the action. This was the Steve you first fell in love with all those years ago, and you hated how odd it was to see him.
“How was work?” you bring yourself to ask and Steve sighs, chin coming to rest on your shoulder.
“Terrible, couldn’t do a thing just waiting to come home and see you” he admits, knowing all to well how he couldn’t keep his mind off of you all day. You can’t help the way your eyebrows draw together in suspicion and you’re quick to turn around in his arms and face your husband.
“Where is this coming from?” And the question makes the guilt twist in his gut with disgust, hating how he had been treating you these last few months. That was going to change, it needed to change.
“I know I haven’t been great lately. Sometimes it’s hard to remember how many broken hearts and lonely faces we’ve shared over the years. We’ve had lovers come and go but we agreed to stay for each other and I haven’t been doing my part” Steve earnestly says, brows furrowed in sadness and his hands locked around your waist as if he let go you would disappear.
“Steve-“ you start with the shake of your head but he’s quick to stop you, hazel eyes searching your own and trying to portray all the regret buried deep within him.
“I know I’ll have my fears like every man and you’ll have tears like every woman but we got this. Even if today we’re unsure but this is what we believe, I believe in us and I want to know how we can go on? I’m going to make a change because not having you until the night is torture” the words he speaks are ones you had been dying to hear for a very long time and you can’t help but smile as your hands reach to cradle his face.
“It’s been torture for me too” you tell him and just like that his lips are sealed against yours in a kiss, his body weight pushing against you and you get sandwiched between him and the counter. You kiss him like a woman starved, which technically you were. Starving for a desirable touch from your husband who wants nothing but you in that moment.
As Steve kisses you he makes a promise to himself. A promise that when the sun goes down and the day is over, and the last of the light is gone as people pour into the street, he will make his way to you. Getting closer as each of the cars turn their headlights on, you’ll be opening up just as they’re closing it down. Work was no longer going to control him, it was just something for him to do during the day until he came home and dedicated himself to you. He knows this to be true when your fingers slide up and through his hair, lower belly nudging against him. He just smiles into your lips as his hands hook under your legs and lift you to the counter.
“I love you” he says in a way that reassures instead of searches for a response. You smile into the kiss, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you.
“Then show me” you urge him, fingers digging into his shoulders and you slowly grind against the zipper of his jeans. God bless casual Fridays. Steve just grins, hands hooking under you to carry you to the bedroom, dinner and groceries now long forgotten. He loves that while people were going to sleep, you’ll be just starting to touch. He planned to have it that way every night, thankful he was finally beginning to feel again and beginning to give. It had been such a long time and he liked how it made him feel alive.
“You’re so perfect” Steve grins against your skin, kisses trailing down your neck and to your chest. The sensation brings you back to the very first time you ever slept together, how sweet and caring he was. Just the idea of it brings your hands to his hair, softly tugging just as he starts nudging up the hem of your shirt and placing a soft kiss on your stomach. When his fingers curl in the waistband of your pants you can’t help but whimper, needing so much more.
Steve grins at the sound, wasting no time in tugging your pants down, revealing your panties where a wet patch had already started to form. He groans as his tongue glides over it, desperate for a taste of you because it had been so long. Writhing beneath him, he takes his time as he slowly slides the panties down your legs and revealing your glistening core. Steve smiles at you while he drags his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of his finger and nudging your clit.
“Please Steve” you beg him as he removes his finger and places it in his mouth. His eyes sparkle with amusement, much darker from the mix of lust and teasing he had been doing.
“Please what?” he asks while feigning innocence. As if he wasn’t currently between your legs right now.
“I need your mouth” you tell him, voice heavy and full of desire. Steve doesn’t need to be told twice as his dips down, nose nudging against your clit as he licks a long stripe through your folds. You moan, the sound becoming strangled when his lips close around your clit and suck hard. Your moans encourage him, bringing him to eat you like a man starved. Your hands find his hair again, caressing the brunette locks as he shoves a finger inside.
“So fucking tight” he mutters, voice raspy and strangled. You can’t help but admire the way he tries his best not to grind into the side of the bed as he listens to your moans.
You do Steve a favor and make quick work of removing your top and bra as he continues to eat you out like an expert. Your legs start to shake the minute you pinch your own nipples and when Steve looks up to see what you’re doing, he nearly faints. “Let me baby,” he muffles into your pussy as you feel that coil begin to tighten. His hands replace your own, groping at the dough of your breasts as you try not to grind against his face.
“Fuck Steve, I’m going to cum” you tell him and that only brings him to move faster, tongue exploring all of you as you shake against him. When he sucks hard on your clit again, you find your eyes rolling back in your head as your orgasm washes over you. He smirks proudly, wiping at his lip as he stands from you, watching as you shake against the mattress.
“Such a good girl” he grins, starting to undo the buttons on his shirt. You watch him shamelessly, admiring the bulge tucked away in his jeans. Steve smiles the whole time, watching you admire him as he strips to his naked form. Your mouth waters at the sight of his chest hair and you can’t help but giggle as his naked form crawls over top of you.
“I’ve needed this” you tell him, panting as he reaches to nudge the tip of him against your folds. His eyes bore into yours, desire for you through the roof.
“Yeah baby?” he asks and you nod, almost on the verge of tears if he didn’t do something soon.
“Yeah, needed you” you tell him in a whine and Steve grins, guiding himself into you, slowly sinking in. You grip his shoulders at the sensation, nails leaving crescent moon marks against his shoulder blades.
“Fuck” you breathily mutter and Steve grins, moving just as agonizingly slow as he fully bottoms himself out. Steves head tips back at the sensation, not moving right away as your walls flutter around him.
“I wanted you to know before I leave again, before the light of dawn, and before this evening can end, I have been waiting for this for so long” Steve says and before you can respond to the heart felt words he’s pulling back and plunging himself in again. You moan out as Steve finds a steady pace, head dropping back down to look at you. He doesn’t miss the way your breasts bounce from his thrusts and he finds himself steadying with his hands on your chest, ramming into you as he feels your nipples pebble beneath his palms.
“So perfect Rosy” he praises, closing his eyes tight as he struggles not to come undone. Still sensitive from your first orgasm you find it hard to even register how good it all feels. When he starts hitting that one spot you feel your back arch against the covers. Steve knows this tell, had seen it a hundred times before, so he quickens his pace, moaning as you tighten around him more and more.
Before you can even process it, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, nearly knocking you out. You practically leave earth as Steve continues to drive into you, relishing in the vice grip you have around his length. His hips stutter when his own orgasm follows, coating your insides as he smiles and starts to drop his body weight against you. When you both calm he doesn’t bother sliding out just yet, enjoying the feeling of being this close to you. Being one with you.
All day he kept thinking until the night he just might make it. If he just kept holding on for when he saw you again. If he had known it would’ve been like this, he never would’ve survived. So he lays against you, bare skin slick with sweat and sticking to his own. He loves that he can hear the thump of your heart in his ear, pounding as you came down from your high. He waited his whole life for someone like you and to think he almost wasted a second of it. He was so glad he figured it all out. Just how badly he needed you and always would.
“Now that was fun” you say, hands softly grazing through his hair as he relaxed against you and Steve smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.
“Good, because it’s happening every night from here on out baby” he says with a smile and you laugh lightly, Steve’s head bouncing against you because of it.
“Until the night then”
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thatsherastro · 3 months ago
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Fixed Signs/placements :
Aquarius, Leo, Taurus , Scorpio
This is a long post. If you are uncomfortable with honesty this page and post is not for you
$30 USD Natal Chart Readings are Available
Todays Message/ Advice:
There is power in knowing when to pivot.
Do you know why mutables have an advantage over fixed signs? Because they know when to give up and move on. Mutable signs excel in their ability to pivot and adapt, while fixed signs are known for their consistency and commitment, which can lead to great success. However, fixed signs often stay committed to the wrong people or situations, holding on due to the time invested, even when it’s harmful. They can benefit from learning flexibility and adaptability from mutable signs, understanding that not everything can or should be held onto forever. Here is why each sign find it hard:
Taurus - ♉️ unwillingness to expand their mindset can really hinder them from learning and experiencing true intimacy and happiness. ♉️ treats everything and everyone like a POSSESSION rather than an experience. At times, ♉️ doesn’t even know the true value of the things that they are holding on to . It’s a perceived value. They only value it because they are familiar with it. Walk with me for a minute , so ♉️ is the 2nd sign of the zodiac which can make them “ The toddler” of the zodiac. Think about a toddler picking up a red ball from the toy store. The ♉️ child swiftly becomes attached to it B/C it is theirs. They won’t share. The thing is there are more balls/ toys to play with in the world but the ♉️ child isn’t open to that because they want to hold on tight to what they like.While there is beauty in that, it has to be used in a healthy way. If the ♉️ native has gone through it , they feel that it is theirs to keep. People, materials, & even pain. Their unwillingness to expand their mindset is what holds them back in the end. The beauty in ♉️ is that it is dedicated. So , dedicate yourself to opening your mind to different points of views and life experiences. They say “ Closed mouths don’t get fed”well Closed minds don’t either ♉️. Be more like a gemini, allow yourself to view things from multiple perspectives but unlike gemini, still remain grounded in your moral compass.
Scorpio - Boy, oh Boy, can a Scorpio hold on. Much like their sister, Taurus, they have a hard time letting go. Specifically, when they invest emotionally into something, on a subconscious level, Scorpios have this thing where they feel that the things worth having are things that they must suffer for, and that is not always the case. These people have been exposed to some dark stuff. It is so essential for scorpions to sit with their dark nature and explore their psyche ( I’d recommend doing this with a licensed professional ) because if not, Scorpio can go between extremes a lot. Many times, unevolved Scorpios transform into exactly what and who hurt them ( R.K3lly) You don’t have to go through extreme pain to learn, you’re choosing to. Suffering is not your birthright. You have the potential to spot a bad situation from a mile away. Spot it , examine it, and learn from a distance. What I will say is that Scorpio is the sign of transformation, so they do have the ability to let go. However, this is only after they have no choice and have a dark night of the soul moment. Scorpios are better at transforming their pain into purpose, which is actually really beautiful. Be more like Sagittarius Scorpio, the moment a situation isn’t adding joy to your life , walk away but unlike Sagittarius try to remain grounded and don’t become too pleasure-seeking.
Leo - Leo I'm going to jump right out of the gate and say it. You hold on based on superficiality and ego. Listen, a leo will hold on to a person that is bad for them simply because the person in question makes them look good. Leo will stay at a job that means no good because the job provides some form of social status. Leo has an image to uphold and they will fight tooth and nail to do so. Leos can be very naive. They will allow people to give them shallow compliments and form emotional connections that are based on praise. At times it's almost like leos don’t even want companionship , they want fans. This is why it is important for Leo to work on having true self confidence. The kind of confidence that is healthy and not a coping mechanism for the insecurities you don't spend enough time nurturing. You are worth more than just a few “ You look good” moments. Leo is associated with the heart but they don’t fully know how to deal with the more unpleasant emotions that are associated with life. Leos hold on because their value is tied to things and people. They tend to detach like their sister Aquarius when the going gets tough, which isn’t always the best thing either. Life isn’t happy all the time. Be more like virgo , GET REAL. Value your mental health over the material world and naive emotions from time to time but do not be pessimistic like virgo .
Aquarius—Aquarius stays in situations due to convenience. They are the type to be unhappy for years, but because the person or place benefits them in some way, they will stay. The Aquarian archetype isn’t really built on emotions per se, so when they continue to maneuver life in an unemotional and opportunistic way, they stunt themselves emotionally and do more harm than good to their heart space. Aquarius underestimates their ability to really manifest at times. The things that you want will come to you if you truly allow it. Aquarius can move on, though, but they do it in a very stoic and impersonal way. You’re still human, Aquarius, and you have to deal with human matters. Listen, Aquarius, when Pluto moves back into your sign, you will be forced to let go of it all and really deal with things that you have been avoiding. How can you truly move on if you haven’t explored the emotions connected to a situation? You’re not moving on , you’re getting by in survival mode. Aquarius, be more like pisces allow yourself to experience your emotional and your empathetic side but don’t be delusional.
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gavisuntiedboot · 2 years ago
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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)
Part 8
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue
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Warnings: ANGST! Idk if it's actually that angsty but I made myself sad. Very very brief mentions of kind of hurting yourself but not really? I actually can't remember what I wrote so if I miss something that needs a warning pls lmk
Word Count: 16.0k (fun fact: if you've read the whole series, you've read 105 pages single space)
A/N: y'all it's literally almost 1 am but I need to start this before I get crucified by the cult following I have created with this series. GIF credit @gavidaily
"You... are considering leaving Barca?"
Xavi looked at you with one brow raised. The same girl that had been fighting for her position at the club just 6 weeks prior was now thinking of quitting her job?
"You know Miss y/l/n, we are about to lose Antonio, and with how hard we push our players, we need to retain the largest amount of medical talent possible. You know that we think extremely highly of you and your ability, which is why you were selected specifically for this role. What can we do to make the job here at Barça more compelling than that of other clubs?”
You took a deep breath. You knew this question was coming. You had worked jobs and been in negotiations before. It would be a lot more expensive for them to hire someone new than to just give in to what they predicted would be a demanded increase in pay.
You looked at your lap, sighing with the weight of the feelings you had carried for God knows how long. It had sat on your subconscious, but was now bubbling to the surface, too powerful to be stopped. “Honestly, mister, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”
There’s a funny thing about women letting go. Some people call it the severance theory. Men are heavily guided by their emotions, contrary to popular belief. In a fit of rage they are capable of anything: screaming, blows - any number of crimes of passion. So when an extreme emotion overcomes them, be it sadness or anger or fear, they can end a relationship suddenly. Once they return to a base state of logic, that’s when the crawling back and groveling begins. Because they come to realize that her absence is a stronger pain than whatever drove him away. They exist in binary states: zeroes and ones. Either hatred or love. They don’t understand gradients or in-betweens. They don’t understand that there is another person who must also decide to return to the relationship.
Women on the other hand are much more resilient. It’s why we find the most gorgeous muses with the slimiest excuses for boyfriends. A woman will fall in love not with what she sees, but rather what she hears. What she is told. All the flowery, lovely promises about a glowning future, that’s what she clings to in the midst of a gray and bleak present. The soft whispers of “I love you” and “I don’t know how I would live without you” act as bandages, plugging the gaping wounds left by his actions. But her resolve slips the longer those promises go unfulfilled. The longer those holes go unfilled. She begins to see the truth of her situation, and realizes that the road she’s skipped down is a dead end. She imagines once again. She thinks of all the possible ways that he could change and be the man she wants. She searches for glimpses of it in his words, his movement, his aura. She does the silliest, most foolish thing a woman can do: she hopes. She holds on until not even her delusions can be a comfort. She realizes that there is no way for her to be happy with this man. That’s when she finally leaves. There’s no groveling, no tears, no remorse. It’s a clean severance of dead weight. She’s empty, and it lightens her being enough for her to walk away. There is no way to save it. The bridge has been burned and she was gone forever.
The funny part was, this didn’t just apply to men. That’s the thing about emptiness: it consumes everything. Loneliness is a black hole that swallows every ray of light that it encounters. That was your life recently. No light and no joy - not even sadness. You couldn’t feel anything strongly anymore. You picked up little habits to try and feel. You heated your food to scalding temperatures just to feel the heat on your lips. Your showers were icy, the pinpricks distracting you from the desire to cry. You no longer felt strong anger or desire or really anything. The color was slowly draining from your life, grays and sepias replacing the once vibrant existence around you. The beauty around you had mangled into gnarly trees and threatening uncertainty as you foolishly waited for the sun to peak through. But it had abandoned you. The sun had taken its rays and warmth elsewhere, almost mocking you as you shivered in the dirt. So maybe it was time to crate your own light: burn down the forest and start anew.
“Nothing? La, that can’t be true Doctora.”
Your eyes shot up at the title. There was, in fact, one feeling that you still sensed: pain. You could still feel physically pain, and inflicted it on yourself often just to experience an emotion. But nothing could compare to the sharp stabs and dull aches that lived in your heart. It was hard to look at Gavi without feeling like you wanted to fall on your knees. Realizing that you were in love was not beautiful or romantic. It was torturous, like snakes and thorns taking home in your throat. Reality was the salt in the wound; the knowledge that you two were destined to fail before you had began was a pill too big to swallow, suffocating you instead.
“If I can be honest, mister, I don’t feel like I belong here at Barça. I’ve been here for six months and I still don’t feel like part of the team. Maybe it’s just not a good environment or fit for me. That’s not something that can be fixed with just a salary increase. I just can’t tell if this is the place for me.”
Xavi looked at you, bringing his elbows to rest on the table and interlocking his fingers. He wanted to adamantly refuse, but there was truth to what you said. It was evident that there was a disconnect between you and the general environment of the team. You were close to some of the younger players, but had difficulty gaining the trust and respect of the older crowd and the medical staff. Your ideas for treatment were too modern - too far removed from what everyone else was used to. Hell, you were upsetting one of his players, and that was the opposite of your job as the support staff. But he would by lying if he said you weren't effective. The plan for Dembele that you had first presented got the striker back on the field weeks earlier than any other predictions. Your diligent maintenance had prevented players from getting injured as often, keeping the ones you were closest to on a strict exercise regimen, ensuring their continuous improvement. He cared for his players and his club. And if you were the miracle cure to keeping them healthy and playing, then he was going to keep you there, even if he had to tie you to the columns of Camp Nou.
"There must be something we can do to keep you. You're very familiar with the players and the equipment, as well as the workflow, and you're very good at your work. Hell, Gavi hasn't even had a cough since you started here, and he's quite accident-prone. Please let me know what I can possibly do to keep you with us."
"I really am not being shy or sneaky. I really have no demands. When then team heads to the UK for the game against Man U, I will visit the Chelsea facility and meet the staff. If I like what I see, I'll be moving there. I'm just... not happy here anymore."
There it was. The confession you had not even made to yourself. You were at the club of your dreams, living everything that your younger self had always wanted, and you just could not be happy. This was a disappointment that was hard to describe. Everyone always talks about shooting for the moon, but no one talks about what happens when you actually make it there. You work hard and your dreams become a reality: you're on the moon! But the moon is so, so far from Earth. And when you're cold and lonely and looking down on all of the people that could be loving you, then the moon doesn't seem so worth it anymore. When you realize the moon is just a rock, then what hope do you have left?
Thinking back, you recalled all the people that you pushed away to further your career goals. You think of the family gatherings and events that you missed to study and work. You think of all the friends you have lost touch with because they were never a priority. They were never smart or driven enough to keep up with you, and so they were left in the dust. You had a few, but none you could confidently say would pick up a call from you at 2am if you needed help. Boyfriends were even worse. Since your heartbreak in college, men had fallen to the wayside. You justified it to yourself, saying that you just needed to be successful, and you would attract someone at your level. Someone who wanted an equal. But here you were: alone, depressed, and thinking of running away from what you once thought was your life's purpose.
Before Xavi could respond, a loud thud from the hallway distracted the two of you, followed by shouts that chilled your blood.
"Gavi!"
You were out of your seat in seconds. There was no force that could stop you, feet and hands moving on their own accord as you entered the hall and laid eyes on the body on the floor. There was no air in your lungs or your larynx to make a sound, let alone scream.
Why was Gavi on the floor?
Your hearing was shot, like you were underwater. The faces of those surrounding were panicked, and all eyes were on you, shouts and points and calls for action flying straight over your head.
Why was Gavi on the floor?
Your stomach was twisting itself into elaborate knots, coiling tighter while pushing the bile further up your throat. Your eyes went in and out of focus, willing the scene in front of you to disappear. You blinked hard hoping for the image to change when your eyes opened again.
Why was Gavi on the floor?
"Doctora, please look at Pablo - he collapsed suddenly and we need to make sure he doesn't have a head injury. Move!" It was Antonio's hands on your shoulders and shouts that finally got you to move from your frozen position.
Kneeling over, Gavi looked even worse. His skin was pale, and he was crumpled like an aluminum can - limbs everywhere, like his life force had just abandoned him. You had to remove Gavi from the situation and pretend he was a practice dummy at school. You had to pretend he was plastic and rubber, because that's the only way you could go through head injury protocols with a calm mind. He couldn't be Pablo, because if he was, then the thought would have to fester in your head: Pablo was hurt when you had been distant. He was hurt because you had been distant. Worst case scenario, he could disappear from your life now, all because you hadn't been able to handle the proximity like a normal person. Your thoughts were spiraling now, painting scenarios of death and disease and making it even harder for you to stop the tremble in your hands.
But you had decided that his cold heap of flesh before you wasn't Gavi. It couldn't be. It wasn't even a person. You recited the head injury checklist under your breath: consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. Placing a hand on Gavi's neck, you felt a pulse, stopping you from performing CPR. The last thing you needed to do was unnecessarily crack a rib. You shook him several times, and received no response.
"Shine a light in his eyes!" "Shake him harder!" "Should we pour water on him? Get some water!" "You're not yelling his name loudly enough!"
You ignored the shouts of the peanut gallery, repeating the list like a mantra in your head. You would have time later to be angry at the staff for their utter uselessness in the situation, but right now, you just needed to keep going. Blood was pounding in your ears as you opened one of his eyelids. Consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. It snapped back into place, and Pablo's face was now in view. Other than his pale complexion, he looked perfectly at peace. His face was identical to the night you had spent sleeping next to him - sleeping atop him. His breathing was deep, as if he had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. He was beautiful. And for the first time in days, it had allowed you to be filled with a warmth somewhat foreign to you now. Pablo was in your arms and beautiful, and you could not imagine how you were meant to go on with life seeing him every day and being denied this privilege. You didn't allow yourself to dwell on the thought. Breathing? Yes. Consciousness? No. That needed to be remedied.
"Pablo, if you can wake up now, it would be really helpful. Otherwise I'm going to have to cause you a lot of pain."
You waited for a response, but none came. You sighed deeply, moving your hands from the supple skin of his cheeks downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, exposing the expanse of his chest. You made out the sounds of taunting and whistles, but they were promptly silenced by staff who reminded the crowd that this was not an appropriate moment for jokes. Forming a fist, you placed your knuckles on the center of Pablo's chest, pushing down and rubbing. Hard. His eyes shot open within seconds, and he threw your hand off, howling in pain. His breathing was shallow and panicked, vision erratic as teammates, coaches, and other staff all yelled questions and instructions at him.
"Everybody shut up! Let me do my job."
That was the voice he needed to hear. As the yells settled to murmurs, his breathing slowed and he began to see more clearly. His eyes fully focused on you, and it soothed the ache in his chest. His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt, causing Pablo to grab onto your shoulders to ground himself.
"Pablo, can you hear me?"
You were here. You were real. He could still hold you and feel you. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. The nausea that he had felt before he blacked out still lingered, and the last thing he wanted to do was projectile vomit on you. He flinched slightly at the feeling of your hand returning to his face, but settled quickly, listening hard to your instructions. There was nothing easier than focusing on the sound of your voice.
"Look at me." You said, shining a light in Gavi's eyes, checking for any hemorrhaging or internal bleeding. What a silly request, he thought to himself, squinting under the brightness. How could he look anywhere else when you were in the room? How could he ever tear his eyes from you? How could he waste a single second of you before him, especially with the prospect of you leaving at the end of the month looming?
"No bleeding. Are you experiencing any double vision?"
A headshake no. You instructed someone behind you to grab a bottle of water, and then turned back to Pablo.
"Good. What is your name?"
Gavi swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Pablo Gavi."
"Good. And who am I?"
"Ah don't worry, Doctora. Even with amnesia, I could never forget you." There was that stabbing feeling in your chest again. That feeling that accompanied Pablo's sweet words and kind eyes. The cold shard of reality that reminded you that he would fade away into an Instagram mutual in a matter of months.
"Alright, Gavi. No internal bleeding and no memory loss. We need to go through more of the concussion protocols and make sure you're okay, but we can do this in my office. Are you okay to stand?"
After a curt nod, you helped Pablo stand, and began walking with him towards your office. You informed Xavi of the next steps, and he told you to do whatever necessary to make sure his 'golden angry bird' was okay. But of course, you could never know a day of peace, as each one must be filled with the noise pollution that was Ferran's voice.
"If the door isn't open, just know that Pablito isn't moaning in pain." A round of snickers was heard from both players and staff. But before they had time to add on to the nasty comment, you swiveled around to face the group. You were seething with anger, and one very important realization came to the center of your mind.
You had nothing left to lose.
It was Pablo Torre who was closest to you, and he was the person that received the start of your wrath.
"What the hell are you laughing at? The fact that your teammate could have serious head trauma? Or at the fact that, with Gavi potentially out of commission, they might take you off the bench long enough for you to remember what grass feels like?"
He was silent instantly, eyes wide. He had never received words this harsh from anyone at the club. Or anyone not on Twitter. You turned to two more assistant physios, Luca and Gabriel, who stood next to him, still muttering to one another in hushed tones.
"And you two! Do you want to know why everyone has to rush and get me whenever someone hits their head? Because out of everyone here, I'm the only one that knows proper concussion protocols and how to identify trauma. I have more medical knowledge in my fingernail than in both of your heads combined. I have to take him to my office because you two are incompetent at your jobs! And instead of doing anything useful, this is how you occupy your time: slacking, cigarette breaks, speculating who I'm sleeping with, and doing absolutely jack shit when a player gets injured. So keep giggling like school girls. I can't wait to see you both giggling on the street corner while begging for spare change."
You held Gavi harshly, storming off to your office. Your speed and the bounce was making him nauseous, but he knew better than to speak in this moment. His chest had swelled with pride. He was patiently waiting for the day that you would put the guys in their place. None of them were bad people - it had just been a while since most of them interacted with a woman they didn't want to sleep with. Gavi loved that you were capable of defending yourself, but could not ignore the part of him that wanted to be the one to defend you.
Call it a toxic trait if you want, but Pablo had always taken pride in his ability to intimidate. He had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was done growing at a sweet 5'7, despite his desire to break at least 5'9 (because his friend Hanna at La Masia told him that was the shortest a girl would go for. Looking back, taking this information from a 5'10 female footballer was probably not the best idea he's ever had). It had taken a while, but after weeks of daily affirmations in the mirror about how short Messi was, he held his chin higher. Once he started receiving praise from fellow players, coaches, and media, Pablo gained more confidence in the fact that he could be part of the next generation of great Barcelona football. This allowed him to go up against any player with no worries or fear, winning headers against people with a foot of height on him. Pablo began building his upper body in the gym as well, compensating with strength. A broad and reckless teenager, there was almost no one he wasn't ready to take on.
He sensed that same quality in you as well: a desire to prove yourself, no matter the cost. But he didn't want you to. He never wanted to see you scowl or have to hear you yell (despite it being semi-hot). Pablo wanted to be your knight, whose sole purpose in life was making sure that you never experienced feelings but joy and pleasure. He wanted others to go through him before daring to speak to you. Because how could every person just have access to the beauty that is you? To the radiant soul and shimmering aura that fills the room? How could he be content with you shouldering the burdens of living in this world? Even if he never got to have you romantically, Pablo wanted to shield you from every harm in the world. And not a day went by when he didn't feel it.
This was one of those moments. He wished he was able to verbally berate Ferran for the garbage he spewed on a regular basis, but he could do nothing except let himself be dragged by you through the halls of the sports center until they reached your office, where he was promptly flung towards the exam table. He watched as you brought him your small office trash can, setting it beside the bed. He was brought back to your first month at Barca, when he had challenged you and been proven wrong. There was a confidence in yourself and your abilities that had dissipated from then to now. Pablo smiled stupidly as he remembered the excruciating pain and discomfort of trying not to throw up in front of the pretty physio. If only he had known then that it was nothing compared to the pain of holding back these feelings.
"Lay down on the bed. Look up at the ceiling. If you need to vomit, do it in there." You instructed curtly before moving to sit at your computer. Short nails clicked harshly against the raised keyboard, keys slamming down rapidly, sound reverberating around the room. Gavi wanted so desperately to flip over, lay on his stomach and stare at you. Just to see the curves of your face and the way your eyes reflected the light. But he looked up at the ceiling like you asked, more worried about pushing you further away than watching you type. He took several deep breaths. This didn’t feel like the last time he was concussed. Last time, he had felt his brain rattle against his skull, waves of nausea starting immediately. His head ad throbbed, spots forming on his vision. His jaw was clenched, and he could’ve sworn there was a crack down the center of his cranium, blood oozing out of it onto the practice pitch.
He remembered that day so vividly despite the head trauma. He had been livid, Ferran dragging him to a new and inexperienced physio. Gavi had interpreted it as sabotage to that Ferran could get the left wing back. And then he saw you. Angry that he was he wasn’t receiving treatment by the best, he couldn’t say he was upset to look at you. You were a stunning kind of beauty, young and lively and clad in cool gray scrubs. But you were three years older than him, wildly advanced and talented, and he couldn’t swallow his pride - especially not with this nausea. He could not swallow the fact that you looked so damn familiar. He had seen you somewhere before: those eyes had looked at him with that same distress and concern. But he could not place it for the life of him.
Pablo thought back to how sweet you had been to him that day. How you had encouraged him to take pride in himself and be confident in the fact that he deserved all the success he had seen. He was so overwhelmed that day. His brain was absolute porridge, and he was doing his best for it not to pour out of his ears, all while his cheeks burned under your gaze. He was too preoccupied by his desire to muster one ounce of hatred to replace the overwhelming admiration in his brain that he could not determine where the hell he had seen you before.
And now here he was, once again staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, and the thought came to him again: why did you look familiar? Despite having known you for half a year now, the feeling that there was history had not left him. It wasn't that you had a common face. There was something about the way you looked at him, with a knowing and sadness, that touched a part of his soul. Like you knew things he had never even admitted to himself. While he thought that was just your way of being, he was coming to realize that look was one reserved specifically for Pablo. Now he wasn't nauseous, and focused on the rhythmic sounds of keys being slammed. He poised himself to ask a question, but not the one gnawing at his brain.
"What're you typing so excitedly? Hopefully not your resignation."
You looked up in time to watch Pablo's chest heave with the breathy (and very fake) laugh that he forced out. Your fingers rested against the keyboard, pausing your aggressive typing. How did Gavi know about your plans to leave? Had he been listening at the door? How long had he been standing there before-
"Is that why you fainted in the hallway? Because I'm leaving the club?"
"So you've already decided that you're leaving? You aren't even going to wait until you see whatever shithole you've been offered a spot at?"
There was an emotion that made Gavi's voice wobble, and you couldn't pin it exactly, but it sounded akin to betrayal. You finished the last sentence of your email, the swooshing sound indicating the message had been sent. Pablo bit his lip and stared hard at the fluorescent light. He didn't want you to see the distress in his face, but he couldn't help it. He hated how the dynamic between the two of you had been so warm, so close to the spark he desperately sought, just to go back to how icy your interactions began.
You pulled up a stool to sit next to him, and grabbed a pair of gloves as you approached. You noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and turned away to put your gloves on. The deep sadness in his eyes, the way his body tensed, the voice like a hurt child - was this all because of you?
"I was doing what I should've done my first week working here: I sent an email to HR about Ferran's nasty comments. Barca can't have a sexual harassment scandal right about now, especially not during the transfer window. And if they fire me, then they..." Your voice trailed off, throat closing up. It was still hard for you to process the possibility.
"If they fire me, then that's one less decision that I have to make."
You ran a gloved hand across his crown, feeling for any bumps or lacerations because of his fall. You felt worse the longer you continued the exam, the feeling that this was your fault sinking in. You had pushed Pablo away wordlessly after brining him in so close. But the majority of your brain screamed back at you how selfish it would be to drag Pablo into your black hole, ruining his career so that he could run after a girl who didn't even feel. If the sun in its greatness could not warm you, then how could ask this of Pablo?
"Now we need to talk about your fall in the hallway. It's quite obvious that you fainted but-"
"Were ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to freeze me out until you left the country?"
Gavi propped himself up on his elbows, eyes meeting you directly. You didn't know what to say. You couldn't tell him how you felt, especially not now. Not right before you disappeared.
"Have you ever fainted like that before? What have you eaten to day?" You asked, moving to throw away your gloves. "If you're having frequent spells of losing consciousness, then we need to have your blood iron tes-"
"Are you being serious right now, y/n? You're on the verge of quitting your dream job, packing up and leaving the country, and isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you, and you're asking about my blood iron? No."
Pablo stood, getting off the table faster than someone with a head injury should. He walked towards you, anger evident.
"No. You don't get to change the subject and talk about my iron. Or sit and try and diagnose me with anything. You know that I'm perfectly healthy. Want to know why I fainted? I'll tell you, Doctora."
Gavi was right in front of your face now, heavy breath fanning against your skin. You swallowed thickly, breathing just as heavy as you met his blazing stare. For the first time in weeks, your eyes started to moisten. Why was this scolding from Pablo going to bring you to tears?
"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."
Pablo was now cupping your face, holding it like it was the only thing that would tether him to the earth. He rested his head against yours, and suddenly it was too much. All the feelings that had escaped you for so long were coming back all at once, stacking on top of each other and smothering you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole to escape Gavi's piercing eyes looking straight through you.
"But you have to know that I don't just see you as a friend, Doctora. You have to know, even if you don't feel the same way, that I am -"
"We met before I got my job here. That's why you recognize me."
Gavi let go of your face, taking a step back. He looked at you with confusion and hurt. You both knew what he was about to say, and he couldn't understand why you wouldn't just let him get it off his chest. And as selfish as it was, you just couldn't take it. Pablo deserved better - someone that would lift him up, not hold him back. And if he said it, if it was out in the open, then you would never be able to put his needs first.
"The week of my interview, I went to pick up Angelika from the club. Angel went to get her from the VIP section and he left me in charge of keeping an eye on you."
"You... were watching me while I was drunk?" Pablo's brain was processing a thousand things at once. You had met him and remembered him? What had he said while drunk to make you hide that fact from him?
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
There were so many ways to answer this question that you didn't know where to begin. How could you explain to Gavi that you had been so captured by his beauty that night that it had thrown you off your axis, making you wonder if you had died and this was the angel sent to guide you to the pearly gates? How could you describe the intense pull Pablo had over you, tugging at your soul, urging you to stay with him? How were you to say the way your heart broke on his behalf, wanting to hold him in your arms and protect him from everything that made him feel less than the most special person alive? All you had wanted was to kiss him, to pull him in, to never let him go. But none of the words materialized. Because to you, the cruelest thing you could do to Pablo was keep pulling him into you. He was pure light, and you couldn't bear the burden of being the one to extinguish it.
"It was an insignificant moment in a club. Nothing worth mentioning. I didn't even remember until Pedri reminded me when I started."
There it was. The sentence that made Gavi crack. You watched the hurt seep into his features, and a heavy air filled the room. Brows coming together, he looked at you expectantly, waiting, praying, that you would take it back.
"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"
Eyes locked, there was nothing you could say that would erase this moment. You swallowed the lump in your throat, playing with your fingers. You spun the ring you wore around your finger, trying to occupy your mind with anything other than the thought that you were the human embodiment of garbage.
The silence remained, growing thicker with each passing second. It enveloped the both of you, tendrils wrapping around and ripping the two of you apart, fraying whatever string of fate had brought you together.
"You think it was just a coincidence, meeting me in the club weeks before we become coworkers? Friends? Something... beyond that...and you think that coincidence was so forgettable that it wasn't even worth mentioning?"
There it was. The cold front that you put up, the one that pushed everyone away, no matter how hot their love for you burned. You were the ice princess, destined to go through life cold and untouchable and alone.
"Some people you just meet, Pablo. It doesn't mean they're meant to be together. I needed to get my friend out of the club and I just ran into Angel. He left me in charge of you so that you wouldn't do anything stupid or childish while drunk. I was in a club babysitting an 18 year old kid who was pouring his heart out to me while wasted. I didn't say anything to save you from the embarrassment."
That was the straw that broke Gavi's heart. He stormed towards the door, unable to look at you any longer. Had he really been lead on; allowed to believe that you were his friend, or at the least respected him, when this entire time you just saw him as a little kid. His last line to you was spoken so softly you almost didn't hear it over the deafening slam of the door.
"They're going to love you in England."
~
"Your English is very good for someone educated in Spain."
You looked up at Steve, flashing a practiced professional smile that showed no indication of offense at the objectively offensive statement.
"Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I did complete my baccalaureate degree in the United States, but I'm glad the last two years in Barcelona have not damaged my language."
Now it was his turn to laugh uncomfortably as he lead you through the garish blue halls of Stamford bridge. The entire plane ride you had told yourself that this could be the fresh start you needed. This could be the opportunity to turn your life around, and so you should approach it with fresh eyes and an open mind. But the walls were hurting your eyes, the blue and white making you think of Martin in his kit. You were lead into the trophy room, which was a lot smaller than you were used to.
"Here you can see some of the club's shining moments. We have had an... interesting season this year, but you know that performance fluctuates between seasons. We hope to be back on top again very soon, especially with an entirely new medical team coming on board."
You scanned the shelves and glass cases, admiring the look of trophies you were familiar with, and ones you had never seen before.
"An entire new medical staff? No one is staying on?" You asked, confused. What kind of club replaced everyone all at the same time? Usually at least one person remained to pass the torch, to maintain familiarity. It set warning bells off in your head.
“Ah, well, many of our staff members were quite loyal to Dr. Henry, you know he was here for 17 years after all. So they all followed him out. But we are excited to usher in a new wave of sparkling young medical talent!”
You swallowed hard, still feeling from the information. You still hadn’t finished your degree, and yet you were being offered a head position at what was supposed to be a huge and well-respected club. You couldn’t help but think of the blaugrana.
Something flitted in your chest, a feeling that surrounded you whenever you walked into the camp. The feeling of family, like you were home. The coldness of Steve’s answer didn’t spark anything close to that feeling. Not every workplace needed to be a part of your heart, a new family. These days. You had no idea what your family was supposed to be, or if you had one at all. Your brain begged you to ask what the environment was like, how close the staff was, what created such a high level of loyalty that they would all follow this man wherever he went, abandoning club and home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, asking instead,
“Do you only display the most recent. Champions League trophy?”
More laughter from Steve, but of the fakest nature. “Yes we have one on this side, one on the other. They’re … ehem, all of our UCL trophies are displayed here.” Your cheeks warmed with subtle embarrassment. You knew nothing about this room or this club, and if you were honest with yourself, you had no desire to. You missed Barca. But you had to give this club its chance – an honest shot to be your new home.
The two of you continued through the halls as Steve showed you all the medical equipment and facilities that would be at your disposal should you accept. At the end, he led you to the players’ lounge, offering you a seat. The blue had given you a baby migraine, and you were incredibly grateful for the ability to sit and rest. You refused the gracious offers for food, sipping on a bottle of water to dull the throbbing against your skull. You searched the room for something, something familiar – a face, a number, to make you feel like everything was going to work out in the end. But it never appeared, the bright colors and foreign faces more of a discomfort than anything else.
"Make yourself comfortable, Doctor. Let me get some of the players that you'll be working with, and you can hear from them what the environment is like."
You nodded sweetly, sitting up straight with ankles crossed in the way Princess Diaries taught you to. As the footsteps faded slowly into the distance, a sigh passed between your lips. What were you doing? Despite the lecture given to yourself on the uncomfortable plane ride over (Chelsea would only pay for economy), it had all gone out the window. Your gut was in knots, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing something wrong.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the screen lit up in your hand to read "One Football: FC Barcelona vs Manchester United - Starting lineup now available." The notification had been pressed before you registered what was going on. Your eyes scanned the list just to land on one name. Your mind went back to the last conversation the two of you shared. The most venomous words had slipped past your lips, and you had finally done it: you pushed the last person who cared for you away. The sentiment was harsh. How could anyone ever recover a relationship after shattering it so completely? Despite how much much it hurt to grip the broken shards so tightly, you held on nonetheless, packing Gavi's hoodie in your bag, the '6' embroidered into the pocket cutting open a gaping wound in your heart, and yet you enjoyed its presence there.
"Doctora, I'm pleased to introduce Kepa and Christian. They have been with the club for a while, and they would be happy to answer all your questions."
~
"A scoreless first half here at Old Trafford as both Barcelona and Man U return to the locker rooms for half time. As we saw Pedri went down in those final minutes of the half, and we've received a report that he is out for the rest of the match. His injury status is unknown, but if the magician is out of commission, this could be a very easy steal for United."
The sounds of fists slamming against lockers was loud enough to be heard all the way home in Spain. Pedri Potter, the star, the leader of Barca's new era, was now in icing his right hamstring in some medical examination room, while the rest of the team scrambled to figure out a scenario in which they would win without him in a mere 15 minutes. Gavi bounced his leg anxiously, eager to see his friend and make sure he was okay.
"Listen up boys. We can win this game without Pedri. The score is now 1-0 to Man U, and all we need to do it score once to tie. Then we are back home, our turf and our fans. Robert, Rapha, your goal is to put the ball in the net. I don't care what you have to do. The middle, you need to get the ball in a good position for these two. That means Gavi, you'll be- Gavi pay attention!"
Head snapping up, Pablo's eyes met Xavi's directly. He knew he should be paying attention - this was the first of several games that needed to be won until they reached a trophy. He needed to be on his A-game, and yet, his mind was drifting. He wished it was just concern over Pedri capturing his attention. But in the corners of his mind, your voice lingered. "Babysitting... insignificant... embarrassment." All words you had used when talking about him as he was on the verge of pouring his entire soul out onto the linoleum for you. He didn't understand the anger that flowed through him. It was a sense of ... incompleteness. If you had let him finish, let him say the words that he didn't fully understand, then he would have been okay. He would have watched as you kicked his beating heart against the wall, telling him that you could never feel that way towards him. He would have been okay: relieved. But you had left him dangling off the edge of a cliff, with no relief in being pulled to safety nor mercy in being allowed to fall.
Xavi gave his instructions to the midfield and the defensive line, going over the weak points that needed to be addressed.
"Pedri is most likely out for the next eight weeks, missing both the next match and the SuperCopa, so this is your opportunity to adjust to playing in high-stress situations without him."
Gavi's head raised fully at this. Eight weeks? It has been forever since someone was out for that long. Since the beginning of the season... since you had joined the team. A pinch in Pablo's chest. His brain repeated over and over that the best thing to do was let you go. To let you be your own person, grow and be independent, saving himself the heartache because the one girl he wanted was the one he couldn't have. Yet his heart held on with an iron grip. It refused to release you, reminding him of every sweet moment shared in cars and offices and bedrooms. It was quick to forget the pain of being perceived as a child. Pablo's heart begged him to wait for you, because it was incapable of letting go of a devotion so intense. His heart ached for you, longing for the day he be deemed worthy enough to love you wholly and completely.
"Eight weeks is insane - we have never gone that long with our midfield handicapped. Is there no way to speed up recovery? Who gave the estimate?" Robert asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.
"Luca is the only one from the medical staff who is here right now. He is the one who made the determination. Of course, the rest of the staff will be free to reevaluate when we return home. But Luca will be the one continuing with the course of treatment, and so we will go with his estimate."
"What? Where is y/n?" The question came from Alejandro, followed by hushed agreement. Even if you were not the first point of contact for all the players, you were a team staple, becoming as familiar to them as the crest embroidered on their uniforms. The older players had watched as you performed medical miracles on their teammates that rivaled what Jesus did for the blind, allowing the team to prosper all season. 15 points at the top of the table, and at least half had your name on them. The youngers had felt your impact directly, following your instructions like gospel. They knew how much care you showed to every single one of them, from the starters to the bench warmers. Your hands had put them back together. A touch of you lingered in all the success achieved, and your absence felt closer to abandonment than anything else.
"You should ask Pablito - he would be the first one to notice that his girlfriend wasn't on the flight." Ferran's voice: the closest human equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. After everything that had taken place, it was a wonder he still had the energy to be an ass.
"Maybe you should ask Ferran about his HR investigation, which is a main reason that she's touring the Chelsea facility fight now. Hey, maybe you'll see her this summer when you get sold there. They're always looking for people to keep the bench warm while the important players are on the field." Gavi spoke calmly and evenly, like he was stating pure fact. He stood, leaving the room to avoid the round of questioning that was about to occur regarding HR and the doctora's new home.
The click of Pablo's cleats echoed loudly in the hallway a she approached the medical room, where Luca was fumbling with bandage and his laptop, while Pedri waited on the exam table like a fish at the market. His head turned at the sound of Gavi's approach, and he gave a weak smile to the younger player.
"I finally pushed it too far. Great timing, eh Hermano? It's only a Champion's League, a SuperCopa, and a potential classico that I'll miss. Nothing significant."
Gavi could do nothing but let out a slight laugh, cupping Pedri on the back of the neck. His heart hurt for his friend. This is what every player dreamed of: playing for cups, winning with the team of their dreams. And Pedri was going to miss all of it because they had relied on him to heavily, asked him to bridge too many gaps.
"Please don't say that word to me ever again. Luca, how's it looking? Eight weeks seems a little excessive for a sprain." Gavi knew that Luca was doing something wrong. Or stupid. Or, the most likely option, both. When Ansu had sprained his hamstring, he was back on the field in 28 days under your care. Alejandro had a minor tear in his meniscus, and yet still he was faster than the speed of sound 6 weeks later. Now there was no you. No melodic voice explaining muscle strain and stride length and tissue recovery. Just a stupid, lanky Spaniard in free Barca merch putting "leg hurts" into Web MD and seeing what he can diagnose with this time.
"Why don't you let the medical professionals do their job, Gavi, and you go back to putting your head in front of peoples' feet."
Looking to quickly diffuse the situation, Pedri turned to his friend, wanting to stop looking at the man who might end his football career with a wrong move and an 'oops'.
"I'll just let y/n look at it when I get back home. She'll fix me up in no time. That is, if you give me one of your spots on her schedule."
"Yeah, that's if she even comes back to work."
Pedri looked at the younger boy with confusion. It had been several weeks since he had seen Gavi with his favorite physio. Initially, he thought the crush had faded - that Pablo had found another pretty thing to maintain his interest, and you had fallen to the wayside with the other failed football loves. But Pablo was so clearly unhappy. He was more irritable, spending more and more time on his phone while avoiding the group all together. He sat silently in Pedri's passenger seat, screen illuminating his face but remaining silent.
[Doctora]: Good morning Pablo - running late. Will bring you an apology smoothie
[Doctora]: im going to need you to send me a video of you tying your shoes as proof
[Doctora]: i'll tell you when i see u tomorrow
Gavi had spent two weeks going back over every message you had ever sent him. He watched the way your tone changed from proper and professional to something lighter, more friendly and familiar. Over and over your voice played in his head.
"Pablo."
Pride be damned. He missed you. As he stood behind his teammates, whispers about the staff still whirling around the tunnel, it dawned on him. Barca, the club of his dreams, the fantasy of his childhood, would never - could never - be complete again if you left.
"And we're back in Old Trafford for the second half of this UCL match between the Historic FC Barcelona, and the red devils of Manchester United."
~
"That's incredible that you went to school there! I'm a ride or die for their basketball team, so you already have my respect."
You flashed Christian a smile - a real one, the first genuine display of joy you've been able to muster in a while. Both of the players had shown a genuine interest in getting to know you, trying to sell you on the idea of joining the club. Kepa had gushed over how much he loved living in London, citing his experiences as a fellow Spaniard.
"You're around so many Spanish speakers at the club, you hardly miss home."
Christian, the more injury-prone of the two, talked about his experiences with the medical team, and the close relationships he had built there. All of the medical team had become family to him in some way or the other. It calmed your previous anxieties. Maybe it was just a fear of change keeping you tethered to Barca, and all you needed was time to adjust.
"I think you'd get along really well with the other players, of course, the ones that opt-in to working with you."
This statement from Christian caught the attention of both you and Steve, who rushed over before you could ask for clarification. Opt-in? How could you opt-in to medical treatment?
"Miss, I think that Kepa and Christian have both done a wonderful job of providing just a small taste of what it means to be part of the Chelsea family. We don't want to keep them from afternoon training."
You said your thanks and goodbyes, but before they left Kepa turned to you, as if suddenly struck with a lightening bolt of realization.
"You're the Barca physio that works with Gavi, right?" He asked in Spanish. "He mentioned a girl physio during international training."
Another knot in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. "Yeah that would be me."
Kepa's face shifted, brows downturned and lips pursed. "Let me give you my contact information, in case you have any more questions." This line was in English, spoken more in Steve's direction than in yours. He approached, taking the phone from your hands and switching back to Spanish.
"Don't leave Barca. Gavi talked about you a lot during the break. They respect and value you a lot there - don't throw that away." He handed the phone back to you as you tried to contain your expression, suppressing the shock you felt from displaying itself on your features. What could Pablo have said that would make this man go out of his way to prevent you from joining this club? What had been so compelling that Kepa worked against his own best interest?
It was now just you and Steve in the room, and you turned to him, his skin flushed, to ask about Christian's little slip.
"There was something mentioned about players opting out of treatment?"
"Ah, just a small clause in your contract. Just says that players can choose not to be treated by club medical staff and find their own if they feel uncomfortable. It's all there in the paperwork somewhere. You can call my assistant if you read over it again and have more questions. Now, I know that you need to go soon, but I wouldn't be able to let you go without meeting one of our new signings. Someone else who knows what it's like to decide to make the shift from La Liga here to the old PL. Come with me."
You rose from your seat, migraine returning from the stress onset. What was being kept from you? Obviously you hadn't read your employment offer close enough. You walked through the passages somewhat mindlessly, following Steve with your body as your mind drifted elsewhere. What was being hidden from you?
"Joao, nice to see you again! This is Doctor y/l/n, and we're trying to convince her to make the same switch from Spain to London."
All of your medical education had told you that the masticator and other jaw muscles were voluntary; that they could be controlled and moved when you wanted. Not today. Your jaw went slack, and it refused to shut as you stared at the Portuguese beauty before you. There was no way. How had you missed the news of his move. How unprofessional was it to say 'pinch me' during what was essentially an interview.
"Nice to meet you, Doctora. I'm quite relieved that I don't have to speak in English - apparently my accent is not as good as I thought."
Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You had yet to say anything or even shut your mouth. Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You laughed lightly at his statement, muscles moving independently of the pudding that was your brain currently. Joao Felix was shaking your hand.
"I'm sorry, it's so nice to meet you, I'm just a little overwhelmed. You're one of my favorite players in football right now. I've been following you since your debut. Oh my God."
It was Joao's turn to laugh, a light and glorious sound. You had made him laugh. You wished someone was recording so you could send the video to Angeliika. And your mom. They would both go into cardiac arrest. His skin turned slightly pink as he scratched the back of his head, flattered by the admiration of someone so accomplished (and, as he would later reflect, gorgeous). Despite not understanding a lick of Spanish, Steve knew he had made a winning move by introducing you to Joao. The two of you leaned into each other as you spoke, and he motioned towards the field, inviting you to a stroll around the turf to chat.
All of your pride and prejudice fantasies were being realized in this moment. You were taking a polite stroll around the grounds with a man that you had salivated over while watching football on TV. A golden boy and future champion. He was something incredible. Witty and charismatic and easy to talk to. Everyone says not to meet your heroes, and yet here you were, floating several inches above the ground beside Joao.
"So, what club are you moving from? Can't be something in Madrid - I would remember you."
Lord, this was too much. You gave a silent thanks to the heavens, all the good karma you had accumulated throughout your life manifesting on this day.
"Oh no, not a Madrid club. Just a small Catalan club called Barca. Heard of it?" You teased as Joao stopped in his tracks. It was his turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed.
"You're the Barca girl physio? I have heard of you! One of the physios at Atleti is your classmate. He said you're crazy smart."
How were you staying alive when all the blood in your body was in your face? How had so many people in the football space heard your name with you blissfully unaware. The smile on your face was not just due to the compliment. Maybe there were people ready to be there for you, and you just needed to reach arm out to them.
The conversation came to a close as you watched other groups come onto the field, preparations being made for upcoming matches. You thanked Joao for his time, once again involuntarily gushing about how surreal this experience was.
"Ah, there's really no need. The pleasure was all mine. I hope that I'll get to see more of you, Doctora, no matter what decision you end up making." Stretching his arm out, pulling you in for a hug. He enveloped you, arms wrapped tightly around your frame in a way that was borderline inappropriate for a goodbye. He smelled heavenly, the warmth radiating from his body akin to a fireplace. This was the stuff of dreams and imagination.
And yet, Joao was not the name on your mind. He way he smelled was beautiful and yet unfamiliar. Your thoughts traveled back to the last hug like this you had shared with someone. To the scent of One Million and powdery deodorant, mixed with something that couldn't be bottled. To the feeling of strong arms sitting lower on your waist. To brown hair and brown eyes and a brown leather couch. To white shirts and white bedsheets. To the soft voice and smooth voice that called for you.
"Doctora."
Logic be damned. You missed Pablo. And then the empty expanse of your soul filled with a feeling of dread. You had made a mistake. So many mistakes. Pushing away Pablo, lying to your friends about how much you needed them. Considering another job. Nothing in the the blue and white had given you even 1% of the feelings you experienced walking into Camp Nou every day. But you would never be able to go back if Gavi was angry with you. Ferran was cattle waiting to be sold. Gavi was a contender this year's golden boy, a powerhouse on the field, a bright star for both club and country. You reached into your bag, staring at his name in your phone. But your fingers shook too violently to press the call button. You remembered the hurt on his features, the way he couldn't even look at you as he passed in the halls. You weren't ready to see [Call Declined] appear on your screen. Instead you rested your phone on your lap, reaching in to retrieve your Chelsea contract.
Obviously, your eagerness to run away from your current life had blurred your vision. On page 22 of 31, there is was in what appeared to be a smaller font than the rest of the agreement.
"Under FIFA and British Football regulation, players may refuse treatment from club-appointed medical staff for any reason, including but not limited to feelings of fear, discomfort, lack of safety, and lack of confidence. Providers will be compensated on a fee-for-service basis, where compensation is scaled based on the number of players consistently treated. Should more than 40% of players request alternative treatment, the club may terminate the contract with the provider before the term of the contract has elapsed."
Your eyes widened, brows knitted together in confusion and borderline disgust. Women in medicine were already at a disadvantage, and that increased tenfold for women in sports medicine. Should the players feel uncomfortable with you because of your sex or age, you could spontaneously be out of a job after picking up and moving your whole life?!
Before you could pick up the phone and tell Steve that he would need to find someone else to fill this cursed position, a buzzing came from your bag. Who was calling your work phone?
"Hello?"
"Good evening Doctora y/l/n, hope that your visit at Chelsea went well." Andreas was Xavi's secretary, and he was the closest thing you would ever get to the cast of The Devil Wears Prada. He was rather cold in the way that he spoke, but never rude. Well dressed and straight to the point - commanding of respect.
"Went very well, Andreas. I got to meet-"
"Mister Xavi has asked for your presence on the flight back to Barcelona to discuss your future with the club. It is of the utmost importance that this meeting occur as soon as possible. So you need to be in Heathrow by tonight at 11pm for check in with the rest of the team."
"But my flight back to Barcelona is tomorrow and I-"
"You'll be fully reimbursed for the cost of changing your travel. We are leaving from Terminal 2. Have a wonderful evening."
Just like that, you were wondering how fast you could pack everything and leave in the next 6 hours when your personal phone buzzed in your lap.
[Pablo]: I know u said u need space but
[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u
[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?
Heart racing, you typed back as fast as you could with trembling fingers, telling him that you would be so happy to meet him, giving him the address of a café near your hotel. You didn't want him to see what your salary could actually afford (since Chelsea didn't cover your travel accommodations). You let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to see you. He wanted to speak with you. He wasn't completely lost.
~
Packing had been fast - you had only brought the essentials to London to avoid paying a bag fee on the budget airline you had traveled. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you let out a deep sigh. What were you even going to say to Pablo? Begging for forgiveness seemed the most logical choice. You practiced your apology in the mirror, and yet froze every time. How would you respond when he asked you why? Why it had been so easy for you to push him away, to strike him down, to make him feel so utterly unimportant to you and your life? You didn't know how you would respond.
Feelings of the heart are often the easiest to articulate. They're not like emotions. Emotions are straight forward: happiness, anger, sadness, jealousy. Things that were caused by one identifiable source, and could be expressed easily with words and actions. But the matters that went beyond feeling, those were the most difficult to understand, let alone communicate. Despite his form, it wasn't lust that drew you into Pablo. Those thoughts had made you breathe heavy and push your thighs together. The glimpses of Pablo's bare form were painted on the edge of your mind, soft skin and hard muscle, inviting you in for a touch, a taste. It was an exciting idea, but not the one that riled you up the most.
No, it was something different. It was a scene that had plagued your mind for weeks upon end, always causing you to wake in a cold sweat with a tightness in your chest, breaths labored. You pictured yourself laying on Pablo's bare chest, drawing circles on his skin as his heart beat rhythmically for you to listen to. As you drifted off, he would place a kiss on the top of your head, running a soothing hand down your spine. It wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him, as he whispered softly.
"Mine."
It was a magnetic pull that Pablo had, a force of nature that you were unable to escape. It could be described as nothing other than desire, like you would make the world stop spinning until the two of you were united. There was a higher force tying you to Pablo, and etched in your bones was a knowledge that you would never be able to leave him. But the sentiments died on your tongue before they could ever take to the air, never to fall on the ears of a certain Spaniard.
As your heels clicked against the city pavement, a sense of calm washed over you. He had reached out to you. There was an olive branch being extended. He was ready to hear what you had to say. Yet upon entering the small space, a different voice called out your name.
"Pedri?"
It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice. You had built up the confidence to come here solely based on the premise that Gavi wanted to see you. Your ego had deflated, back to feeling like utter garbage for the way you had treated the person who, in reality, was your closest friend. Before the self pity could fully sink its claws in, you noticed the full-leg brace that Pedri was sporting.
"I'm sorry that I used Pablo's phone to text you - didn't have your personal number, and it would be a little... salt-in-the-wound-ish to ask him for it right now. Especially since you asked him not to speak to you."
"I never said that!" You exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than intended, causing a couple people to glance in your direction. Pedri escorted you to a table in the corner, offering to go and get you a coffee to fight the chill of a London January.
"No please. It's completely fine. You shouldn't be standing with a torn muscle anyways."
Pedri looked at you inquisitively. He had not seen you in a while, especially with you and Gavi not on speaking terms. He had missed the quips and sarcastic comments he was able to catch during training. He missed the feeling of safety whenever you cared for himself or others on the field, as he knew that you were to be trusted with their bodies. He missed the fire you sparked in Pablo, leading to unparalleled passion and unprecedented performances. The air of natural confidence that you spoke with is what brought the smile to his face. Not hesitation or wobble in your voice. No need to consult a dozen others. Medically, you knew your shit.
"A tear? Luca told me it was only excessive strain on my hamstrings."
A scoff and an eye roll that widened Pedri's smile. "I wouldn't let Luca perform medicine on a Barbie. That's the wrong kind of brace if it's a sprain. It's immobilizing. You need something with compression - a thigh sleeve most likely. Have you been icing it?"
"How could you leave Barca when your successors are idiots like Luca?" His arms folded across the table in front of him as the realization spread across your features. You were acting like his physio on impulse.
"How did you know I was thinking about leaving?"
"Everybody knows. No one could focus on today's second half because of it. When I went down everyone was scrambling to find you and call you. Everyone, myself included, was waiting for you to run across the field, bag in those magic hands ready to come and give me a new leg. But then you weren't there. And I was just praying that Luca didn't schedule me for an amputation."
A shy smile and a breathy laugh. You met his kind eyes, piercing though you. It was surprising when you felt the wetness on your cheeks, registering you were crying only after the tears had rolled down to your chin. He brought his chair in closer, holding your hand, and you held on for dear life. Your tears were falling in earnest now, fat and fast enough to hit the table as you used Pedri as a lifeline.
"Come back to Barca."
"I can't Pedri. I've... I've just made such a mess of everything."
"You're talking about Pablo."
"I'm talking about everything. I have a player that actively hates me and is looking for every opportunity to get me fired. Everyone on the team thinks that I'm sleeping with Pablo. And Pablo - I can't even explain how much I messed up. I told him to stay away from me. To give me space. I don't want space." You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the table. "I just want him to talk to me. When you sent me that message I was so excited. I thought he was ready to forgive me."
"Don't worry for a second about Ferran. We heard about the complaint to HR and I'd be happy to speak on your behalf about the dogshit he says to you. Everyone with a brain knows you're not sleeping with Pablo - they all have so much respect for the work that you do. Dembele came to me after the match and told me to contact you. He said your first assignment for Barca was to work on his leg recovery, and it was the best treatment he's ever had." You raised your head, tears turning your eyes red and puffy as they stained your cheeks.
"This may be selfish of me to say, but I would do anything to have you stay at the club and work with me. I can't miss all of these cup games because the physios don't know what's going on. This is everything I have ever wanted in my life. And if you're the person that can help me get there, then nothing, especially not Ferran and the other airheads at the club, are going to hold me back."
He moved to grab your other hand as well, looking you straight in the eyes. There was not one indication that he was exaggerating his sentiments. He wanted to win more than he wanted to breathe.
"And Pablo? Don't worry about him."
"How can I not worry, Pedri. I was so cruel to him. He'll never speak to me again."
"Doctora, don't you know that there's no one on this earth he holds in higher regard?"
~
The terminal was surprisingly quite busy upon your arrival. It seemed that everyone was catching an international red-eye, causing you to stumble through crowds with your small bag and exhausted demeanor. You approached the airport staff, utterly lost in trying to find the meeting place. It was 10:56pm, and you didn't have the money to be missing the company-sponsored return flight.
"Excuse me, I'm with the F.C Barcelona team. Where can I check in for my flight?"
"I don't remember them becoming a unisex team.'' Your expression remained neutral as the staff member chuckled at his own joke. You didn't have time to give a lecture on the dangers of misogyny. "I need to see your Barca ID."
"I don't have my team ID badge, but if you let me speak to-"
"Don't you women have something better to do than try and fuck a footballer? Lord, you even have a suitcase and everything. I suggest that you go home and stop with these little charades - it's embarrassing."
You stood speechless as the man walked away, stationing himself in a different area of the terminal. Behind you, screams were heard coming from the door, followed by flashes of light in rapid succession.
"Gavi I love you!"
"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"
"Xavi have my babies!"
Your attention shifted to the security guarding the entrance as the Barca squad filtered through the doors, all dressed in coordinated pale yellow. You speed walked towards them, pace catching the attention of one of the guards.
"Miss, you need to maintain space."
Gavi turned to look at the person that was causing a disturbance. Usually it was a child who had gotten a little too excited to see their favorite players, and often the soft spot in his heart compelled him to give them a picture or signature. It was hard to have your dreams crushed as a child by a celebrity that didn't care, and he was determined not to be that type of person. That's when his eyes locked with a pair oh so familiar to him. He stood in place, frozen as his teammates narrowly avoided bumping into him and causing an awful domino effect. It felt like forever since he last looked at you this way: like you were the only person in the room.
"Ah, Doctora y/n, glad Andreas was able to coordinate with you. Sir, she's with us." Xavi's word was law, as usual, and you were allowed to pass through with the rest of the group, ushered to a more private area of the terminal, the screams of fans echoing behind you.
Pablo watched as you stood alongside the coach, chattering away about God knows what. Eric and Pedri were beside him, making conversation about the new additions introduced in the FIFA update.
"Did you know she was going to be here?" Gavi asked, interrupting Pedri's rant about how expensive different skins and expansions were. He had been desperate to see you, thinking of all the ways he might reconcile once he saw you again. But not now. He wasn't ready to face you - not ready to be told 'no' again. For the first time in years, a cold vein of fear ran through him. Was this it? Were you handing in your resignation, coming to Spain only to collect your things before moving to the gray fogginess of the Premier League?
"Yeah. We had a little chat earlier." Say what you want about the IQ of footballers, but Pedri was incredibly intelligent. He himself had given up a career in medicine to explore football greatness. This meant he was smart enough to have deleted the messages that he sent from Pablo's phone before he did his 78th re-read of all your text messages. He was also smart enough to figure out that Gavi had wanted you practically since he laid eyes on you. Contrary to what many may think, Gavi didn't really look at girls. He was usually absorbed in conversation with a friend, whether in person or virtually, and was not prone to looking at every pretty girl that crossed his path. He was hard to please and even harder to impress. So when he started seeking you out more often, mentioning you during random drives, he knew that Pablito was infatuated.
It was several months, however, before Pedri realized the extent of Pablo's affection towards you. It had been during the international break, when Pedri sat and played FIFA with Nico, the only worthy opponent among La Roja. Pablo was half watching the game, half staring at the illuminated screen when he stood suddenly. Pedri watched from the corner of his eye as Gavi stepped out onto the balcony in shorts and his training shirt in the bitter chill of December. When the match had ended (3-1 to him of course), he followed the younger outside, and found him with his phone pointed towards the horizon. The sun in its retirement had painted the sky the most vibrant shades of oranges and pinks, bleeding into a royal purple. The hazy, circular glow kept the sky warm, and the colors stretched out over the wide expanse of the city, painting everything in the golden light of dusk. That's when Pedri heard the shutter click.
"Since when do you take pictures of the sunset?" He was teasing again. It was always fun to rile up his fiery teammate.
"I'm sending them to the doctora. It's so pretty, I want her to see it."
"Isn't she in Barcelona right now? She's probably looking at the same sunset."
"But it's just so beautiful from this high up." Gavi said, eyes still transfixed on his phone as he searched for the most worthy flick to send you. "I just want to send her something beautiful. I want to send her every beautiful thing in the world."
Yes, Pedri was a smart man. Smart enough to see that Pablo's feelings to you were stronger than he had ever experienced for another. Probably the strongest he had ever experienced at all. He was smart enough to approach Alejandro and Ansu, while Gavi chewed on his lip at the prospect of speaking to you, to organize the seating during the flight home.
~
"Don't get too comfortable, Doctora. You'll be joining me upfront for a chat after takeoff." You laughed politely at Xavi as he boarded the plane. You gathered your things, acutely aware of Ferran's gaze on you while you bent over.
"Have a good time at Chelsea? Try and ruin any lives while there?" He asked, voice laced with annoyance. HR had approached him about your complaint, informing him that they would be asking other players and staff about comments made at your expense. While he could keep his friends quiet, he had done too much to piss off Gavi, leaving him vulnerable to everyone in his camp. His only hope was to get you to leave before the investigation had concluded.
"I would prefer we didn't speak about non-professional matters. Thank you, Ferran." You said, smiling so sweetly he felt his teeth throb. You boarded the plane last with the rest of the staff, Luca rushing past you like he would be left behind if he wasn't seated soon. Glancing down at your ticket, you read out your seat number. Row 6, seat G. Walking onto the aircraft, you were stunned by the beauty of the first class cabin. It was furnished completely with plush leather, with every two or three seats getting their own dividers from the rest of the passengers. You walked to row 6, and made your way across the aisle to the right side of the plane where your seat was meant to be. In row 6, seat F, sat Pablo. He looked up at the aisle at the sound of shuffling, and the two of you just stared at one another, wordlessly communicating a shared hurt. All you wanted was to pull him in and say how sorry you were. You just didn't know if he'd be ready to accept.
"Um, I think I'm in the seat next to you." You told him sheepishly. He moved from his place, allowing you to sit next to him by the window.
"I thought the staff usually sits together." He said, trying to prevent it from sounding like a complaint, because it truly wasn't. He wondered what force of fate had allowed your seat to be placed next to his. Little did he know that fate was from the Canary Islands. You sat next to him, adjusting your seat and the belt, before bouncing your leg nervously. The speed increased when you felt the vibration of the engine, watching the plane move from its parked space onto the runway. You wanted to say something - anything - but your throat was dry and the words failed you. You didn't know what to say to ensure that you would be forgiven. That was probably the scariest part: knowing that the forgiveness may never come.
"Are you afraid of flying?"
You turned your head at the question. Gavi's eyes were fixated on your sweatpants-clad thigh as it bounced at incredible speeds. There were many things you were scared of in that moment, but the plane didn't help quell any of them. You were going to be stuck next to Pablo for the next two hours at the least. The anxiety of not knowing how he felt towards you gnawed at your skin, eating you alive. You nodded your head, because in all honesty, it was the same fear, wasn't it? Flying, falling - all terrifying prospects.
Gavi put one airpod in, extending the other to you. It was a peace offering, the olive branch you had waited for. You accepted it graciously, muttering a quiet thank you as you slotted it into place. Your body turned back towards the window, 'Sky full of stars' playing softly in the right half of your brain. As the plane continued to move slowly down the runway, you felt a hand rest atop yours, bringing your bouncing leg to a halt. The skin on skin sent shockwaves through you, electricity running up and down your arm. His hand moved sideways, sliding under yours to lift, and then proceeding to interlock your fingers. The warmth of Pablo's hand, the strength of his grip. The slight squeeze as the plane began picking up speed. Despite lacking the confidence to look at him directly, you peaked at your joined hands. Pablo was here. And through the presses of his fingers and the soothing motion of his thumb, he reminded you that Pablo would always be here, so long as you would have him.
"y/n, Mister Xavi would like to see you now."
You hadn't even realized your hand was still laced with Pablo's until one of the assistant coaches came to collect you. Gavi had drifted off into a light sleep, waking as he felt the cold hit his once warm palm. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to follow the assistant coach.
"Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.
"Don't worry. I'll be right back."
This was your first time on a plane that had a lounge. The coaching staff was spread across all four sofas, drinking champagne and discussing the efforts from this trip. Xavi sat at a table, an empty seat across from him.
"Doctora, welcome back from Chelsea. Did you enjoy your visit?" He asked, offering your a flute that you politely declined.
"It was wonderful. The staffand players were all great. I'm grateful for the opportunity."
Xavi raised an eyebrow at the diplomatic answer. You were not giving him much of an indication as to your decision. He reached into his bag and extracted a medical file, sliding it over to you.
"As I'm sure you saw on TV and online, Pedri suffered quite a severe injury during the Man U match. Pedri is a key component of our midfield, and Luca has estimated eight to ten weeks for his recovery. I'd like you to take a look at his medical examination report and recommend a course of treatment."
You took the papers in your hand, looking at Xavi cautiously. What was the purpose of this exercise?
"Well, I've already told Pedri that his brace was incorrect, and gave him the specifications for a sleeve to buy once we return home. The eight to ten weeks metric is based on the healing with this immobilization boot. Using the correct compression sleeves and ice, as well as rest, Pedri should be back on in 4 weeks. Five if you want to be safe. That would mean his first appearance back would be the SuperCopa semifinals."
Xavi laughed to himself, collecting the files and returning them to their place. He pulled out another sheet of documents, the words "Adjusted Contract" in bold at the top.
"Doctora y/l/n, it has become increasingly evident as I watch you practice and treat our players that you are a generational talent in sports medicine. You have a deep understanding of the body that few others, both in the club and outside, can fully grasp. At Barca, we strive to do everything in our power to keep generational talents in Camp Nou. I would like you to consider remaining at the club until the summer, when contract renegotiations occur. This would allow you to see out a season that you have contributed so greatly to."
"Why the new contract now then?"
"Just a few clause adjustments. Firstly, we have increased your compensation to absorb your living costs. Those will now be covered by the club. The other change is on this page here. It states that your main focus must be on starters, injured prioritized before healthy. So, if you choose to accept, Pedri would be the top priority as an injured starter. You would dedicate all the necessary time to his treatment."
You scanned the document, and it was just as he said. No other nonsense, just the clauses on compensation and prioritization.
"This is all so flattering sir, but..." Your voice trailed off, shy to speak in front of a legend and the man holding your future in his hands.
"What can we do to make this deal irrefutable?"
"The contract is perfect sir. What I would need is a promise from you. Chelsea's base compensation was higher, but the compensation was based on the number of services the medical staff provides. I could be fired at any moment if not enough players were comfortable being treated by me. I felt, or well rather I didn't feel the sense of loyalty, of family, that I get as Barca. And so I would need a promise from you."
"Name your demand."
"When the summer comes and my contract needs to be renegotiated, keep me on the team. Don't try and pawn me off to someone else. This is my team, my club, my family. So you have to promise me that I have a future here, or else I'll save the heartbreak and leave now."
Xavi placed a pen on the table, bringing his chair forward to be as close as possible to you. "Doctora, you are an incredible and frankly priceless asset to us. We were able to hand select you from the best of the best new physios in Spain. Our successes, any trophies and titles, we owe them in part to you. Help me finish the season with a strong and healthy squad, and I swear to you on my life that you will have a place at Barca until the day you die." He stretched out his hand, and you took a deep breath, meeting the shake midway. It felt weird, signing your contract again, but for more money. You definitely didn't expect to be in this position before you've even graduated, but it brought a pride to your soul. Xavi saw something in you. A generational talent. Somebody believed in what you could do.
You returned to your seat and found that it was Gavi's turn to bounce his leg. You sat down, and he followed you with his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"Did you enjoy your trip?"
"Very much so. I got to meet Joao Felix."
Gavi's face turned to you, catching the beaming smile that broke out across your face.
"Yeah? You like him in person, or was he a disappointment?"
"He was less... dreamy than I had anticipated. But still sweet nonetheless. It was a cool experience."
Gavi responded with a hum, turning his music back on and looking away from you. His other airpod sat on the tray table, right where you left it.
"Pablo," it was your turn to rest a hand on his bouncing leg, "we have to talk."
Pablo turned to you, eyes sad and lip between his teeth. "Do we? I feel like you've said everything there is to say." He knew he was being difficult. He knew he was being petty. But Pablo could not let himself get hurt again, especially not in front of the entire team. If he was going to mourn your departure, it was going to be in the comfort of his own guest bed, the one piece of furniture he could sleep on for 7 continuous hours because it held no memories of you. It was your turn to find his fingers and slot them between your own.
"I didn't mean it. Any of it. I have so many reasons why I didn't mention meeting you, Pablo, but I'm just not brave enough to tell you yet. It wasn't because it wasn't important. It could never be. You are one of the most important people in my life. You're one of the only people I have left. Please don't push me away."
His eyes met yours, and he knew there was no way he could remain angry. It was you, after all. The person that made Pablo believe in the possibility of a soulmate. The one that Gavi thought of whenever songs about incredible love came up on his playlist. You were it. He gripped your hand tighter.
"Going to be hard to support you from several countries away, but I will try my best."
"You don't have to. I'm staying."
Gavi's eyes widened, face lighting up like a kid who had just been gifted an entire candy store. "You're staying?"
"Mhm. Barca is my home. My family. No matter how bad it gets, I could never leave this place behind." It felt as though you spoke those words right into his soul, breathing life back into his very being. You were staying. Your voice, your laugh, your energy - all of it would be at Camp Nou, waiting on the sidelines as he fought tooth and nail to capture your attention. "And plus, Pedri and Xavi basically begged me to come back so Luca doesn't have to treat him."
Gavi let a laugh fill his lungs and spill from his throat, maybe a little louder than necessary on a midnight flight. But he was feeling genuine joy course through his veins. He was a man on death row with a second chance at life. He removed his hand from your grip, bringing to above you and resting it across your shoulders. Professionalism be damned. He just wanted to be close to you right now.
"Xavi was more convincing than Joao? I bet that would be a blow to his ego if he found out." It was comfortable, sitting with Pablo in this way. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. You pushed up the hand rest so that the two of you could get even closer. Professionalism be damned. They wouldn't fire you while Pedri was still limping.
"Oh yeah. Portugal boy is cute, but Xavi in 2010? That was my first love. I could never refuse a request from him." More giggles from Gavi. You wished you would bottle this moment, eager to make his happiness perpetual. He was human sunshine, and he deserved every light and happy and beautiful moment life could offer.
"The spiky hair? Really?"
"Shut up!" Coupled with a smack to the chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion of the day and its stressors finally catching up to you. "Every man looks hotter when carrying a trophy."
Gavi let out a light laugh, turning to hide his blush. Yet another motivation to lift as many cups as possible this season. He offered you his other airpod again, which you accepted, inserting it as a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness.
"One day, we'll need to talk about it properly, you know." Pablo said from above you, voice soft and serious.
You nodded your head, letting out a quiet "Mhm" in a agreement. You knew it was an inevitable conversation. You would have to eventually face the music, let Gavi free himself from whatever feelings were sitting on his chest. But you couldn't do it now. Not with your future up in the air. Not with your feelings for Gavi still a massive tangle of emotions.
"Not tonight." You said to him softly, as he turned his head to meet your eyes.
"No, not tonight."
Your eyes finally closed and you began drifting off. Pablo's arm remained wrapped around you as he leaned in closer, basically cuddling you on this plane. Thank the lord for blessing the engineers with enough foresight to install dividers. As you breathed rhythmically against his chest, he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing deeply. Why was everything about you so intoxicating?
In the haze of your sleep, you heard Pablo speaking to you. You listened intently, hoping to catch these special words that he only released to your sleeping form.
"Doctora, I would wait for you forever. Even when you hit rock bottom, I'll be there, waiting for you with a ladder. You will always have me, no matter what."
~~~~~~~
A/N: Guys I did it!!! My longest part to date! I am so flipping tired. It's 4am. I don't remember a time before I started writing this part. Anyways, we are chugging along y'all! Only two parts left in the main story!! I surpassed my 15k word goal. Maybe next part is 18k? I think the next part is going to be my favorite. I haven't decided if I want the big boom pow event to be in part 9 or 10. We will see. Again, apologies for the long time between updates, but semi-decent writing takes time. As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! If you notice any easter eggs/ small details, feel free to point them out!!! There are so many and I love when y'all get them. IDK when part 9 is coming out but when it's done y'all will be the first to know. Ok love y'all byeeeee.
Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye
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doodoodinklefart · 6 months ago
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okAYYYY so ive been planning this au for literally forever and i couldnt get white diamond satoru and black sapphire suguru out of my head... ive seen a couple other hnk x jjk aus floating around but i wanted to take a crack at it!! i'll just explain these three + the setting for now cuz theres a bunch of other shit brewing in my head LOLOL honestly hnk and jjk are pretty different themes-wise i feel so i couldnt rlly help changing a lot abt the world LMAO
in this au its not just a couple gems in the school, there's a bit more of a society and structure outside of it. there are still the three major "clans" though maybe more like major cliffs?? lol?? that the gems are formed in that produce a much higher frequency of strong, high quality gems. i imagine that before the idea of working together (modern jujutsu society) had come about, gems fought to have control of these spots to assure that they would have those to protect them from lunarians (aka curses we're playing a bit fast and loose here). while there were many attempts to merge the clans, the fighting was more a waste of time if anything, so they stayed separate. jujutsu high in this au would probably just be the school, a set of gems that are trained to always be ready to dispatch lunarians and protect tengen (who is the prayer machine here), who has basically been dormant.
and THATS where we get to white diamond. i wanna say while diamonds are p common irl, its rare here for there to be a fully formed diamond lustrous that actually has inclusions. while there have been extremely strong lustrous born from the gojo cliff, white diamond is the first diamond in several centuries, filling a vacancy after others had been taken away to the moon. not only that, he's got special eyes too!! im thinking he can see sunspots from far away, or maybe can tell artificial gems from real ones, like being able to see their inclusions or something. probably both!! either way he has to wear special blackout glasses during the day. his eyes are really reflective so he can work at night too, but that often leaves him restless.
white diamond—in his mind at least—is untouchable, and really it may as well be true. due to the combat training that he's gone through and his hardness of 10, he has never sustained so much as a scratch. he had a tendency to break all of his sparring partners back home, and thus he feels he's hit a brick wall with his training, and that the only things that will come close to putting up a challenge are likely lunarians. he doesn't really care much for weaker gems at this point, and is eager to finally fight lunarians for once. eventually, he is sent off to the school to begin what he would call "actually worthwhile" training.
black sapphire, on the other hand, was born practically from nowhere, in a unremarkable place with little more than himself and a few other older gems that were around to help shape him. with a hardness of 9, he was the strongest among them and—after his first dangerous encounter with lunarians—he realized he had an obligation to protect the rest of them. his strength often leaves him feelings alienated, as he normally ends up working alone for fear of other being taken away. i wanna figure out how to incorporate his ct better but for now ill just keep thinking about it. for now, it was probably his strength that got his scouted and sent to the school.
boulder opal, or just opal, is in training as a doctor at the school, and shows extreme promise. her lax attitude reveals none of her medical prowess, especially when it comes to gems with missing pieces. she has a particularly good eye for finding missing shards, or finding pieces that she can replace missing shards with. there's nothing she can do if their inclusions reject the replacement, however. maybe she has a way of resonating with the other's inclusions to speed healing up on bigger points of damage?? idk ill figure it out
ANYWAYYY this is getting super long so i'll end this shortly BUT!!! basically, white diamond, with black sapphire (who he calls saph), and opal are all training under yaga sensei (idk what kind of gem he would be yet LOL). diamond, at first, sees opal and saph as weak, but quickly realizes they have their own feats. saph in particular is the first lustrous that has ever made sparring fun, because while he's less durable his combat skills make up for it tenfold. maybe black sapphire is the first to ever leave a break on white diamond who knows... opal is probably always having to put the two back together. theyve never lost to a lunarian before, and have certainly never come close to being taken to the moon. these two are the strongest together, and each finally feel like they have a place to belong.
alsooo..... they do get a mission to escort a "star plasma vessel" of sorts. tengen slowly erodes over the years and needs a compatible lustrous to replace their missing pieces. boleite (riko) happens to be that gem, and diamond and saph need to escort her.... lmaoaoao now i have to design riko, toji and kuroi...
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indiaalphawhiskey · 10 months ago
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India, why do some larries now believe H and L broke up and hooked up with others while being on a break/ breaking up? I see those asks almost everywhere.
The simple answer: most of those asks are trying to sow discord amongst larries and take the temperature of blogs to see where they can find someone to take the bait so they can attack the chink in the armor.
But, if you’re genuinely asking where the general ‘idea’ of a break/break up has come from, personally and from my experience in fandom, I think looking at certain periods of time in their life with the benefit of hindsight, it becomes easier to see when something shifted.
For me, it always struck a chord with me how adamantly Louis refuses to sing Miss You on tour, because of the way he talks about that song: it seems like it’s got some very painful memories attached to it.
I think it’s a little obstinate to insist they never once took time apart. That’s just not particularly realistic to me, considering the intensity of everything they’d gone through — extreme closeting, loss, hiatus, getting their solo careers off the ground, learning to tour without always being in each other’s back pocket, just growing up and changing. That kind of growth takes a lot out of any human, nevermind a human constantly in the spotlight.
And yes, while I personally know of couples who have weathered some pretty bad storms together without breaking up, it was not an easy feat, and it’s hard to expect that from anyone, especially in your early 20s.
It seems like, in this fandom, there’s only room for two schools of thought. Either, A) they have and have always had the perfect relationship and have never once thought of letting go, or B) they’re over and have been for a long time. Usually, like with everything in life, the truth lies somewhere in the middle.
Life is long and some of it is very hard, and sometimes love is enough and sometimes it isn’t, and sometimes you find your way back to each other, and sometimes you don’t. There’s no template, there’s no right way, there’s no instruction manual.
What do I believe? I believe they fell in love young, and it was the kind of love that fundamentally changed them and tied them together forever. I believe that if they parted ways, it was because they needed to grow and cope with some very harsh realities and in turn, figure out how to be better people and better partners. I believe they have found their way back to one another, and are currently trying to balance their goals as a couple with the limitations of their industries and the world.
Whether or not they hooked up with other people has never mattered and will never matter to me, because I will literally never know and therefore don’t care. Like I’ve said before, the only person who can decide what kind of love is “right” or “enough” for them is the person receiving that love. And in my opinion, they’ve both decided they’re ‘it’ for each other, whoever they are or aren’t, and whatever they have or haven’t done. And as someone who is simply observing that love from the outside, that’s enough for me.
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potentialbreakupscng · 2 months ago
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💋 / & another for remus from james <3 - @wizardingsouls (follow up from here.)
it all happened before he could even process it. one moment they're laughing, and having a good time -- start the discussion that's been in the air between them for the months that they've all been together. harry had moved in with them, things were fine. he smiles as sirius reminds them that they had indeed promised each other forever. even when things were hard -- even when they had been separated when lily and james went into hiding -- forever was promised. he watches as james moves to sirius to kiss him, and he feels the warmth spread through him that he hasn't felt in over a decade. their family is back together. they're good. he's the first to immediately notice the shift in sirius -- setting his mug of tea on the coffee table in front of him as he notices the way sirius's brows press together when james kisses him again. his lips part to call for james, but it's too late. he can see the way his hands tremble, the way he backs away from james -- someone he's never seen sirius back away from. he stands and he slowly approaches him.
"sirius -- padfoot, he's here. i'm here --"
but he's cut off when sirius's snaps at him, and manages to move out of the way in barely enough time before the glass of liquor in his hand comes flying toward him. he doesn't even wince when a glass shard catches his arm as it shatters. he looks up the stairs when he hears harry's footsteps and he glances over at james -- giving him a silent nod before he speeds past them and moves to take harry back upstairs before he can witness anything. wandless and wordless, he casts a silencing charm on harry's bedroom -- immediately silencing the loud shouting that comes from sirius down the stairs. he sits with harry, long arms wrapped around him and he tries to explain what's going on as best as he can.
because for once, remus isn't even really sure what happened.
he thought that they were fine. that sirius had finally come to terms with that he was out, that he and james are here and alive and he won't have to deal with being in azkaban ever again. either sirius was extremely good at hiding it, or he truly thought he had gone completely mad and just accepted that it was okay. he distracts harry with magic, showing him different and fun things that harry should be able to do one day without a wand once he's practiced enough. like making the ends of his fingers sparkle, or lighting a candle with just a snap of his fingers. it isn't long before the young teenager is asleep, cuddled into remus's large form and remus waits. he waits for as long as he thinks he needs to -- head on the top of harry's head and keeping his arms wound protectively around him as he can. it's only until his limbs can't take being shoved into a smaller bed that he carefully moves to get out. he pulls off harry's glasses and sets them off to the side, pressing his lips against his forehead in a soft kiss before tucking the teenager in for the evening. it seemed like it was just yesterday they were telling harry he hadn't needed to clean the entire house -- or be up early to make breakfast for them. he turns off the lights and opens the door -- thankful to not hear the screaming or sobbing from earlier. when he goes into their room, his eyebrows raise when he sees sirius peacefully sleeping -- an empty sleeping draught next to him, which is something they've had to use whenever sirius wakes from a nightmare. remus takes in the bandaged hands, and knows that there's a mess downstairs that they'll have to clean up. his heart aches for the moment -- knowing that one of the men he loves is so broken from reality that he can't tell what's real and what isn't. over a decade of torture -- and both he and james had been fooled thinking that things had been back to normal. he glances around for james, and finds him at a far open window -- trying to hide the tremble in his hand as it holds one of the rolled cigarettes remus had made. he pulls his fingers through his dark hair, moving toward him and hesitantly resting his hand on his back. "hey," his voice is soft, dark eyes flicking over the side of his face as he seems to barely acknowledge that he's there. as if trying to hide everything that's so clearly written on his face. james potter wears his heart on his sleeve, even after being gone to the world for over a decade. remus reaches over, taking the cigarette from his hand and putting it out on his thumb. he sets it down, as he guides james to turn and look at him. large, calloused hands move to cradle his face between them -- thumbs brushing along his cheeks to wipe at the tears that stain them. "it's not fair that padfoot gets a kiss, and i don't. absurd, really." a soft smile grows on his lips when he hears james let out a soft chuckle -- and soon the distance between them is closed and their lips are upon each others for the first time in over a decade.
the tension seems to leave his body, especially when he feels james relax into him. his thumbs move gently along his cheeks, and for part of him it feels like time hasn't passed. that nothing has happened and they're all still there, dumb, young and in love. when they pull away and their eyes meet, he can still see the tears pooling in his eyes and the reality of the world settles upon him once more.
not everyone is there. lily is gone. they're not okay. they're all broken and fucked up one way or another. "stop thinking that," he states softly, almost as if he can read his mind. he moves his hand to press against the crease between his furrowed brows, soothing it over while his hand moves to rest on his neck -- fingers brushing along the scar that was left behind due to the attack on their family. remus rests their foreads together and he shakes his head. "it's not your fault, james. you didn't do anything wrong. sirius is -- far worse than we thought. we couldn't have known."
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cookies-and-mirrors · 3 months ago
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Prison of Stone and Flesh
Chapter Twenty Six
This is a collaborative fic between @cookiesupplier, @faceless-mirror & @comforting-madness
Dividers by @samspenandsword @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics
Authors Note: Trigger warning for dubcon, non-sexual or violent, but consent issues just the same can still be triggering.
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Pairings: Multi-Pairings, Everybody x Everybody.
Triggerlist: transphobia, homophobia, abuse, SA, dubcon, religious trauma, past suicide attempts, mental health issues, grief, death, violence, (To be added to)
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Christopher, Justin, and Ryan are members of the Gargoyle Order, soldiers fighting in the angels war against the demonic supernatural evils of the world to protect human kind. Through the years they lost comrades and now just the three of them remain in their little town.
Now, Ricky and Vinny are moving into their church, stirring up old and new feelings, along with the past, posing the challenge of navigating this new chapter in their lives.
Can they all navigate this path successfully and break free of the prisons that is their lives of both stone and flesh, or will they all be trapped forever in a world that could prove to be a constant misery?
MASTERLIST HERE
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Taglist: @miamore0570 @21-century-tae @dragon-chica @shilohrosechicken @comforting-madness
@missduffsblog @witchyweeb34 @spicywhenspeaking @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens
@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @emmmm127 @sunsshinesunny
@latenightmusiclover @dontdiganothergravetoday @high-wire @awkwardalex
(please comment/like/reblog/message to be added to taglist)
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Chapter Twenty Six
Chris was on the rooftop not far from the Chinese buffet, Justin and Ryan were patrolling. They did not patrol during the day. Well, usually they didn’t, but they were using stealth runes to try to remain as undetected as possible. There was no choice after Atsuko had heard them and gone completely feral, slipping away, his time in the catacombs had extreme effects on his senses obviously, heightening them beyond what Chris had expected. Now, Chris wasn’t sure what to expect from Atsuko. This could go a multitude of ways. Either way, that werewolf could well be in for a shock soon enough.
Presently, Chris was eagle trained on the building the werewolf was inside, he was working his busboy shift right beside Noah in the buffet. As much as Chris would like to be inside watching directly, he watched from outside. While he doubted Atsuko would come at him during the day, he had learned not to underestimate anything a feral gargoyle might do.
Ricky was inside, sighing softly as he and Gwynn awkwardly got a table. As soon as they sat they spotted Noah and Ricky locked eyes with him. Did his nervousness show? He was shaking. Seeing Atsuko earlier going feral to get out to find his mate- he was scared Noah wouldn't talk to them or hell… listen. “Noah,” he whispered, “It's urgent.” He hoped the whisper would be enough.
Noah was cleaning off another table when Ricky caught his line of sight, he’d barely slept the night before, for a multitude of reasons, much more than just what he’d learned from the other man’s companions when they’d been here. Tearing his eyes away from the smaller man, he continued furiously cleaning the table as he heard his rushed whispered words. He would rather not talk to him, Noah was scared okay, while he was curious with everything he’d learned yesterday, he’d admit it, he was also scared too… But what could have brought them here to him, over something urgent? … Where even had Folio disappeared too, dammit. He’d probably taken one look at these two and gone searching for that cute one again. Traitor. 
He had a job to do either way, Noah made his way over to the table, raising an eyebrow at the fact it was just the two of them this time, “None of the gargoyles this time?”
At the mention of the gargoyles Ricky’s eyes watered, “N…no that's… why I- we came to talk to you- well partially- it's hard to explain, where's your friend? He- he should stay by you right now-” Ricky rambled, feeling sick before Gwynn held his shaking hand. 
“It's okay, Ricky… Noah… where is your friend…? This is serious…” Gwynn said firmly, “We need to make sure he's safe.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed at this Ricky, at the way he was rambling on, and then at the mention of the having to make sure that Folio was safe. What the hell were these two going on about? “I don’t have any clue what you two are talking about. Folio is fine, He is probably off somewhere from the moment you two walked in… He deserted me to look for your cute friend… He gets the itch whenever the full moon is right around the corner, happens every time… I mean… This time it's a little early, being a week away, but it's also the first time he’s zeroed on someone quite this intensely, so I’m not surprised.” He hadn’t stopped talking about that guy all night, despite Noah’s identity crisis.
“That's the problem-” Ricky started, voice cracking.
“Ricky… deep breaths… Noah… can we talk in private, please? Too many listening ears.” Gwynn pointed out. “If Folio isn't here… he might be in trouble. Please.”
Noah wouldn't want to talk to them. Why would he? This was such a long shot and Noah was going to hate them and leave and blame them- Ricky covered his face with tattooed hands. Where was Noah's mom? Had she died giving birth to him? Was he going to die?
“Look, he’d gone missing before near the full moon, he’ll be fine, he always comes back.” Just the same, there was something poking at Noah, the way that Ricky was fretting like that, and he just wanted to pull away, to call Folio, to call Shade… But would Shade even talk to him again after what had happened last night? He had not been happy with him, even if it had been an accident, Noah hadn’t even known how it had happened.
Taking in a breath… “What makes you think he would be in trouble anyway?”
Gwynn sighed and stood up, silver eyes flashing. “Because he's got a gargoyle that's feral looking for him.” They said softly, leaning in to whisper it. “That's the priority right now. His safety. Feral gargoyles are unpredictable. Do you understand? We need to find him and keep him safe. Then I'll answer anything your heart desires- and Ricky can have some answers. But first. We need to find him. Understood?” Gwynn was done tiptoeing around everything. 
As Ricky had said, it was urgent.
“Atsuko got loose before we could reign him in.” Gwynn added, “We're doing damage control now… but we must locate him.”
Noah standing there as Gwynn stood before him, he wasn’t nearly standing at his full height and yet, still felt a bit guilty that he was dwarfing both the others as they were before him. Feral gargoyles? He wondered how they would compare to feral strigori because he’d had to deal with those, and they were not something you’d want to come across in a blind alley. Noah was just lucky he’d never inadvertently gotten bitten while he’d fought them, Nick and Jolly had made sure, none of them wanted him to become a vampire accidentally.
“Anything?” Though he glanced dubiously hearing the part about Ricky having some answers, wondering what kind of answers Ricky could possibly want… “I- yeah, yeah, okay. I can call my friends. Some of them can’t really help until tonight, but others can… either way, we can keep a look-out.” Noah took out his phone to shoot a group text, to Nick, Jolly, Shade, and Riyah.
911 Folio Missing - Feral Gargoyle
“Anything I have knowledge of.” Gwynn relaxed, leaning on their cane, sighing softly. “Thank you, Noah.” they whispered, easing back down slowly, aching. 
While they had been talking, Ricky had been chewing on his nails, shaking slightly from stress. He wanted his mate. He wanted to have him close- but Justin was working. He didn't even want to eat the small portion he got, even though he was starving again…
Noah was nervous, now sure if he’d hear back from any of them, at most he’d maybe, he’d hear from Riyah. Even if he might hear from the vampires, they’d not be able to come out during the day anyway. If this was as dangerous as they seemed to think this was, they’d have to wait and see. As it was, he was looking over at these two, the blonde one, he remembered the name from the card, Gwynn, and the other, Ricky. Gwynn had mentioned Ricky wanted answers, and he looked stressed. 
Swallowing… he couldn’t do anything about Folio until he heard back from the others…
“What… what, what is it you want to know, then? I’m probably useless against some feral gargoyle, so… What?”
Ricky looked up with wide blue eyes, watery and red. “… Are you okay? Will… will my babies be okay? Was your mom's labor hard? Did you have a twin? What about wings when do I expect those? How much do you eat? What about sickness, did you get sick as a kid-” All the questions came out at once.
The giant busboy twitched a little at the flow of questions, holy shit, he was pregnant, “I- you know what, I’m going to go take these dishes back to the kitchen, go on break and come back, and start answering your questions, one at a time.” Oh boy. It wouldn’t take him long, but really, he just needed time to think after that onslaught of questions.
The nephilim whined softly but nodded, laying his head down on the table. It would be a… interesting conversation… hopefully. Informative. Answers were desperately needed in the man’s mind.
Gwynn sighed and patted Ricky's shoulder as they moved to sit beside him.
By the time Noah came back to the table, he was coming back with two plates loaded with food. Sitting down with a sigh, arching his aching back and picking up a sugar roll from one of his plates to take a bite, before he did, however, he looked at the other two. “What, it’s my lunch break?” Yes, his brother was awol, but Folio understood better than anyone, he was starving, he went missing his brother would be the same way. Though, his brother would have the skills to track him, Noah didn’t have the same nose he did. His senses might be heightened, but he was no werewolf.
“So,” After munching on his sugar roll. “Am I okay? I would ask you to define okay, but that is a really broad definition so, I’ve made it four hundred years with people that care about me, so I’m going to go with yes on that one. I am alive, and doing pretty good. My mom’s labor? … Well, the only person I think was there was,” Taking another bite… “Not sure, a three-year-old werewolf’s opinion can help you there.” Another mouthful of food was washed down with some water as he looked between the two…
“I, I did have a twin, for a few months, he-” Noah paused, not liking thinking about what had happened to his brother, it was a night he could never forget, despite barely being six months old, laying next to his brother in his crib when he was murdered. So, he rushed onwards with his answer, “He was killed, why are you asking me all these questions anyway. From the way these sound, surely there is someone else you can talk to? Sure I’m only part, but I can’t be the first gargoyle that's been born, not even the last one… right?” Shade had said their species was doing poorly, how bad could it be if there had been four giants in the restaurant yesterday? Didn’t they know anyone else?
Ricky was listening closely- intently. “... You're uh… part angel like me… but I'm… I'm Nephilim…” he said softly, putting a hand on his belly, looking down. “They… they won't be. My… my babies won't be.” He said, looking up. “They'll be tribrids too.”
Tribrids, Noah hadn’t thought of himself like that, but he supposed he was one, part human, part gargoyle, part angel, if his father was a gargoyle, his mother must have been a nephilim, or angel. He wondered if she knew, he wondered if that was why she died. If that was why his brother and him were hunted. Why she told Folio to take him and run, to run and keep him away from all of them. Noah remembered how long it had taken Nick and Joakim to get Folio to trust them because, it had been the two of them against everyone else. 
“Actually, I kind of figured the angel part out.”
Noah just looked over the table at them as he kept eating.
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THE NIGHT BEFORE
Noah was looking down at his phone, standing on the roof of the apartment building waiting for Shade. It wasn’t the first time they had met up here, it really depended on what they were meeting for, to be honest. Then again, it wasn’t like hooking up on the rooftop hadn’t happened before other times… So… he supposed anything could happen… But considering his texts earlier about his brother, and the others turning up at lunch… This wasn’t that.
Still, he hoped it wouldn’t take him long to get here. 
It was as if Shade had sensed his worry, the gargoyle had arrived silently and the only telltale sign of his arrival was the almost silent flap of his wings once he landed. He had gotten a message from Noah and figured that he had to go since it seemed very urgent. So Shade made it his business to go without a word. 
Their meeting on the apartment's roof wasn't unfamiliar, and it was where they had all their meetups. Yet as soon as he was there, the vampire felt something was off, and he was about to not like what's going to happen. 
“Noah,” he greets with a small pat to his arm. “I got your message. What's wrong?”
Noah’s eyes were wide as he lifted them to look at Shade, messaging him earlier about the other gargoyles at the buffet, and he’s asking him what was wrong? How his brother just turns up, and he’s asking him what was wrong? His brother that he’d never mentioned before. Oh, he has a twin apparently, according to his texts. Noah just… he didn’t know what to think of Shade’s brother, he would admit to that, whether he had abandoned Shade when he turned, or… but…
“So, your brother, his friends, they, they apparently knew my dad.”
When Noah had mentioned his brother and friends, Shade just pursed his lips while he went to sit on the ledge of the roof. He should've mentioned having a twin, but after everything, he wasn’t even sure that he was alive. Nor did he think he himself was going to live as long as he did. 
Everyone else too.
Now, once the other brought up his father— Shade shuts down immediately and just looked at him. “Now, what makes you think I know anything about him?”
Noah had moved to sit with Shade on the edge of the roof, he honestly figured that Shade hadn’t mentioned his brother because of some form of betrayal. If his family had betrayed him, he wouldn’t want to talk about them either. Riyah, that was family, and that was all that mattered… Though, that did bring up the question, “I didn’t know gargoyles could be as small as humans though, but that is an entirely different subject. Riyah might be shorter than both of us, but his sister is just, tiny compared.” 
Shaking his head, it was when Shade shut down that Noah sat up straighter, oh, that, there, that had his attention, looking at him closer in the dark. Nothing but the moon, and the eerie street lights below, to illuminate him. “Well, I wasn’t going to ask about my dad, I was going to ask about being a gargoyle, but the way you just shut down like that… What the fuck, Shade?”
Silence. All Noah got was silence as he thought about what else he had said. He wanted to know more about gargoyles and that was fine but oh. Oh, did his body tense more at the mention of Riyah and his sister. “Chenza is dead,” he finally said, albeit quietly, and there was a hint of pain there. Having witnessed his friend spiral into the pit of despair he's buried himself in, all he could do was do his best to drag him out of it.
He still wasn't answering about his father, Tadashi. Not his place to. Glancing to Noah, his face stoic as he spoke.
“Your father's a topic I can’t speak on. Not my place to tell. But what do you want to know about gargoyles?”
Noah scoffed, “I’m not an idiot, if that woman today was not the female version of Riyah than I’ll forfeit my dick, and you of all people know how much I like my dick.” Even if Shade was one of the few people that had ever technically had the pleasure of it. Everyone else just took one look, and weren’t even size queens enough, come on…
“Besides, why not my dad, wh-” he sighed, “Not your place, what does that even mean Shade?”
Shade sat there and snorted. Not many can make him laugh, and Noah does at the best of times. He's usually just quiet and blank. “I know,” he mused and sighs after, “But even if it were true, and I'm sure you'll argue it is… If you tell Riyah, he won't believe you and say you're lying. He's too out of it to know what's real and isn't at times.”
But that was a thought; if Temperance was back, though he still isn't sure about that— it could mean that it could be possible that Chenza is too. 
Now, once the conversation turns back to Tadashi; Shade just ran a hand over his face. “It's exactly what I mean, No— it also means that I have no say in telling anyone. Plus, I don't know exactly what even happened.”
Noah couldn’t help but growl at him, and after living with his brother, a werewolf for four hundred years, and he had a pretty damn good approximation of a wolf growl despite his human vocal cords. “It’s not about what happened, it’s about who he was, what he was like, anything. Besides, I’m not asking you to tell just anyone Shade, I’m asking you to tell me!” Unintentionally, those last two words were laced with a power that Noah had no clue he had ever had. He was so close to finding out something, anything about his father, and he trusted Shade. He had trusted him for decades, so much more than these gargoyles he didn’t know anything about, even if Folio had latched right onto one of them. He’d been talking about that cute one ever since they’d left, it was annoying.
When Shade heard the growl, he just gave him the side eye because he knew that meant that Noah was agitated. But as soon as he demanded, it felt as though the wind had been swept right out of him. A strangled sound left him before growling low when he realised what it was and glares as he spoke.
“Tadashi Cerulli, who also went by Perseverance, is the son of Christopher; Responsibility,” he hissed. It was hurting him to try to resist what he immediately figured out was a  command, staring at Noah. 
This not so little bastard was an angel—
“Fuck.”
Noah’s eyes went slightly wide when Shade groaned and the next thing he knew, the words were flying out of his mouth, Tadashi, that, was that his dad, Tadashi Cerulli, Perseverance, he… Wasn’t sure what that meant, son of Christopher, Responsibility, that sounded all kinds of official, and it made him feel kind of weird. Then however Shade, the way he hissed, and was holding himself, made Noah feel, oh, oh, that wasn’t good, shit, fuck, shit, damn. 
Quickly, as he heard the other man swear, Noah reached for him and clamped his hand over his mouth, “Stop, stop! I’m sorry, sorry! I- what, why, why does it seem like you’re in pain?” Or that he was about to keep going, his words muffled under Noah’s hands until he told him to stop.
There were mixed feelings about this, and all Shade could feel was anger. As soon as Noah clamped a hand over his mouth, he snarled and swats it away, but is grateful that he no-longer had to speak under a command. Averting his gaze from the younger male, the elder just bristled as he tried to calm down while staring at nothing.
“I was resisting,” he answered with a scowl, “If a gargoyle resists a command it'll cause strain.” He then pulls a knee close to his chest and rests his chin over it. “You fucking… no. You are an angel…” Shade isn't even sure if he wanted to dwell on that right now but alas. “A command is what an angel does to get us to obey under certain circumstances.”
Swallowing, Noah shuddered, his anxiety skyrocketing as he pulled back when Shade pushed his hand away, making sure to keep his distance. Something, something didn’t feel right anymore, and he, he felt wrong in his own skin. He hadn’t felt like this in so long, warm tears prickled his eyes, and he felt, why did he feel like this time he was the one who needed to be punished? That Shade deserved to curve one of those massive hands into a fist and slam it into him. They joked about breaking him like a twig, but maybe he should.
Wait- wait- what?! Command… Angel… the fuck… 
Angels could command…
“Angels can, just, command anyone to do whatever they want? That’s bullshit! I swear to god I did not mean to do that, Shade, I am so sorry!” 
The anxiety was rolling from Noah in waves, causing Shade to shift a bit in discomfort where he sat but remained silent. He took a chance to look at him and saw his eyes water, it made the gargoyle sigh. Regardless of how pissed he may be with what was done, it was an unknown accident on the younger's part. 
Being commanded had always pissed him off because he never liked being out of control of his actions. It had been centuries since he's been commanded, and it hurt. A lot. Yet, the reason he lashed out was because of his hand. Noah’s hand over his mouth pulled him back into a place he would rather not be.
Hearing the panicked voice from Noah, he reaches over to lightly pat his cheek while he stares at the ground below them. 
“You didn't mean to do it,” he agreed, “But yes. Angels command gargoyles. It's what we're made for. To be their weapons.”
Basically, expendable.
That left a sour taste in Noah’s mouth, and an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. He was not sure if he wanted to know anything else about gargoyles, or angels, angels making gargoyles to be weapons, and could command them at will? He was both? What did that say about what he was supposed to be? What do they expect him to be?
“I’m going to go downstairs, if you want to come with… I, I’ll understand if you don’t.” Noah would understand if he didn’t actually want to talk to him right now, or even ever again, he wasn’t sure if he would either. Riyah, damn, if he told Riyah he was part angel, what was he going to say? Fuck. Still, Noah still up from the roof to stand, to head in.
Shade can tell that Noah was having an internal struggle after what had been revealed about him, and the gargoyle just sat there. He was unsure of what to do because this was different in comparison to Riyah. Hearing that he was going downstairs, he stood with him and slipped his hands into his pockets. 
Following him in, Shade was keeping an eye on him now. Not because of distrust but out of concern. Plus— he was hungry.
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THE PRESENT
Almost as soon as Noah kept eating, his phone was ringing on the table, and he dropped his fork to reach for the device, picking it up quickly. When he did, the name on the screen had him answering immediately, he figured it would be him. Shade, Nick and Jolly, odds were they could, probably, were sleeping… And Shade, he could potentially be upset with him still after last night. Then again, if Shade had told Riyah… Would Riyah help, then again, this was for Folio, not him? “Riyah? Thank fuck, so, um, Folio might be being hunted by a feral gargoyle, and he isn’t here, so we have to find him.”
As soon as Gwynn heard Riyah's name, they jumped and sat alert. “Riyah- my Riyah? Uwriyah?” they gasped with wide eyes, they covered their mouth, eyes watering.
Uwriyah had just gotten up from a long nap. If left unattended, he tends to sleep longer than he should, despite being one of the more elder gargoyles left in the world, that he knew of. When he saw Noah’s message about Folio, he frowned before calling him. It was very concerning with how urgent that text was if Noah had started it with ‘911���. Something he's learned over the years to know it's an emergency. 
“Noah, I got your message as well as the others I'm sure but what—” as soon as Noah began speaking, he listened to him. He isn't sure how to feel about this call. Folio having been hunted by a feral gargoyle— that didn't usually end well and the victim being their friend? 
Fucking hell.
Furrowing his brow, he cursed under his breath before pausing when he heard another voice in the midst of Noah talking.
“Who was that?” 
Noah’s attention, despite being on the phone, snapped to the blonde, what, their Riyah? Wha? He, that, he blinked at this person across the table, until Riyah’s very question cut, though… “Um, one of the people I mentioned that was here yesterday.” It took everything in him not to say, with your sister, but after Shade’s warning last night he held his tongue. Riyah was going to have to see her for himself, he was going to let him see her for himself. “That told me that Folio is in danger, they claimed that the gargoyle that Folio has been obsessed with since, well, yesterday, has gone feral. Atsuko, I think Folio also called him Honesty?”
He sat in silence, trying to process what he was told, and furrowed his brow while he listened. “Okay,” Riyah uttered as he listened to Noah explain before sitting up straight when he said either name of the feral gargoyle. 
“Wait—” he said softly, “Honesty? He's alive…? No, no… never mind that– who is with you? I know you told me, but I need to know their name.” But then again, there was Temperance. He was alive when he thought that he was dead. Both he and Shade thought he was. Even though they have their doubts, it's still something that he can't seem to wrap his head around.
But was it really him? Could it be? The more he thought about it, the more worried he was.
Ahhh, did Riyah really want to be asking about whether someone was alive? Noah wasn’t sure about that considering some of their personal companions were sorta, well, half alive themselves? Come on Riyah, alive and dead, serious here! 
Pausing when Riyah insisted on a name, he wondered why, was there something wrong? “Okay, um, Gwynn, Gwynn Haven, did you want to talk to them?”
Waiting. He was waiting for Noah to speak, and once the other finally answered, the gargoyle froze before letting out a quiet whine. Gwynn? No. It can't be the same Gwynn—.
“No. I'll be there to help,” was all he said before hanging up. That can't be because Gwynn was dead. There was no way. But overall, he's more worried about Folio. His friend who he and Shade had just gotten back after so many years, having an inkling he's died… But if he came back… then that could mean—
That could mean his sister… no. 
It shouldn't be possible, but could it?
Gwynn’s eyes dropped, and they looked down, “I should have expected that.”
“Riyah- I-” But he’d already hung up and Noah was looking at the phone, he wasn’t sure what had just had happened, “Well, okay, so, that’s one more gargoyle helping us, at least.” And the other one he wasn’t sure was quite talking to him. Setting his phone down. 
“As for the rest of your questions, um,” Noah wasn’t really sure how to answer them, “I don’t, I don’t know if I have wings. I’ve never, I’ve never had wings before. I guess I should, gargoyle and angel, two-fold, right? Never tried though.” Looking down at his plates, most of it gone, and he was still hungry. “I eat, a lot, I will eat anything, everything, I’m always hungry, I can never eat enough, and it’s just, I never feel full.” He wasn’t touching what was left of the food because he felt… he felt… “I feel everything just burns through my body the moment I eat it.” Sighing, “That’s, I suppose, other than chronic back problems I can’t put on any muscle, I’ve never been sick in my life.”
Ricky relaxed slowly, and pushed his plate to him, “Thank you… and… If you ever want or need, just call the club or café- we’ll help you anyway we can, regardless of the gargoyles… sorry, my mood swings… have been intense. I found out yesterday I was pregnant after a visit from… my father.” he explained softly, offering up more information to the Tribrid. “I shouldn’t have rushed you.”
Noah made a strangled noise before reaching for the plate of food, he, he shouldn’t, glancing at Ricky, he was pregnant, “Are you sure?” Yes, he’d just said he was just about starving all the time, but he was pregnant, it felt wrong to take food, even offered food, from a pregnant person. 
“I’m sure. I wasn’t sure how much I could eat, and I think if I tried right now, it wouldn’t go well. Anxiety is still a bit high for me.” he explained gently, “I know it’s hard to trust people… but I really want you to know the gargoyles are kind… and Gwynn was working yesterday to make neutral beings able to enter the café and club, so it could be a safe haven.”
Vinny was even getting a level in the alcoves ready for him and his family, in case they needed housing… The only ones who were apprehensive were the gargoyles.
While Noah picked his fork back up when Ricky encouraged him, he did understand anxiety, no question, his had been skyrocketing since the moment those gargoyles had walked in yesterday. He was actually thankfully none were here now, it meant his head was clear, that it wasn’t aching, at all. As he ate, he said nothing about them being kind, nothing whatsoever, he was sure that Ricky believed that, even the comment about neutral beings, the side eye that Gwynn got then was distinct. Noah couldn’t help but think about Shade, that one of the gargoyles could well have shunned his own brother and yet were willing to welcome others? Noah was sceptical, sceptical.
Though, “I have a question,” he was glad the gargoyles weren’t here, right then, personally, not about Shade, or the others. “The tattoos, the marks, on their skin, they keep moving, and it gives me such a headache. Even Riyah, I know his is different because of all the black, but, but what does it mean?”
Gwynn blinked for a moment before they smiled gently, “That eye strain should get better now, you were seeing both Angel Runes and their masking, and they disguise themselves to mortals or other non angel - related beings. Most gargoyles have them to help with different ailments, and conditions, they can only be applied and activated safely by an angel, such as myself, or a rune caster who is gifted in such work. I had to remove a few yesterday… I can help you learn more about your angel side, like I’m hoping to do with Ricky if you would like-”
The smile was interesting, but the kicker was the moment, the moment that Gwynn said that they were an angel, Noah just completely tensed up staring at them. Oh, god. They were an angel. Ricky’s anxiety was for crap now, Noah’s just took yet another hit considering last night he’d caused Shade pain last night because of finding out he had angel blood. “You, you are an… Angel?”
“I am… I was part of the troupe when I was younger… I was forced to heaven and I got to return recently-” they explained softly, “That’s why I was surprised when you said Riyah, is Nightshade okay? Do you know? Ryan hasn’t told me much-” they covered their mouth, “Wait. No. I’m sorry that wasn’t our agreement, I apologize.”
Noah’s expression darkened, only, it wasn’t the agreement that had affected his mood, “Fuck the agreement. Ryan, so that Shade’s brother’s name. I did wonder what that, that,” Noah took in a deep, slow breath to stop himself from going completely off. He’d had to learn over the years how to temper himself, but he’d had the luxury of never had to hide who he was with his family. “How about you go back and ask fucking Ryan how Nightshade is. Make him admit to fucking shit. I’m out. We can find Folio on our own, angel.”
Noah didn’t even finish what was left on Ricky’s plate, and got up from the table to leave, he needed to get out of there. He was freaking out… Gwynn was an angel, and angels had created gargoyles to be controlled, as weapons. It wasn’t right. He didn’t like it, so he was getting out of there and going to find Folio with his family, on his own. Riyah would help him, he was sure he would.
Gwynn, upon hearing Ryan’s name spoken as if it were the most disgusting thing on the planet, their eyes dilated. They pressed back as far away as they could, a tremor ran through them, and they almost flew out of there. Wings sprouted from their back, and they dashed, not feeling chained down as they once were, watching stiff as a board as Noah left.
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ijustliketoreadstuff · 2 years ago
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Why Sabine and Tom couldn’t do anything for Marinette
Over the course of the series, most notably in “Were dad” and “Dearest family”, its been made clear that Sabine and Tom are very protective of their daughter, but after we realized the full extent of what Marinette had to go through at school in the years prior, we discover that much like how Marinette had trouble living her day to day life being bullied by Chloe, it was Marinette's parents, Sabine and Tom, who also had the unbearable struggle of not being able to protect their daughter. Sabine and Tom knew Chloe was giving their daughter a hard time, but odds are, this was all Marinette would let them know. Kids tend to live completely different lives at school and outside of home( Lila being the biggest and most extreme example), and although Marinette knows her parents only ever had the best interest for her and would want to help, she couldn’t afford to let them so long as Chloe had the power to not only threaten and fire the teachers at school by using Andre’s power as mayor to her own advantage, but also interfere with other peoples careers and businesses outside of school, just as we saw her do with Clara in “Frightingale”, and Veronique in “Determination”.
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For her families sake, Marinette understood that what she was going through, was something she could not afford to let her parents get involved in to much, as it would only risk worsening the situation for all of them. Her only solution to her problem at the time, was to somehow make it to the end of the school year and hope Chloe was not in her class next year.
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If and when  Marinette is seen on screen talking about Chloe with her parents, the conversation ends up being short and moments before she has to leave for school, with Marinette only saying simple things such as “I bet you anything Chloe will be in my class again”, but nothing more. 
(Sabine attempting to lift Marinette’s spirits to help her make it through the day)
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Anytime Sabine was with Marinette during breakfast, both in “Origins” and the “Derision” flashback, Sabine is never seen pressuring Marinette to tell her more about Chloe as she knew it was a conversation her daughter did not feel comfortable talking about. As a result, Sabine could only do what she could and gave her daughter a few little words of encouragement to help her make it through the day, but just to be sure, she resorted to asking the one person she knew to rely on and look after Marinette, Socqueline, who would attempt to do what she could to help Marinette realize she needed to find and build the confidence necessary to stand up to Chloe in order to change things. 
(Socqueline explains to Marinette she would not be around forever to help protect her.)
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Now, given who they are, Sabine and Tom would of course have already made attempts to confront the school long ago, the moment they realized their daughter was struggling, but even if Sabine and Tom attempted to confront the principle about the situation revolving around their daughter, their attempts would have proven useless as there was no real proof of what Chloe was doing to Marinette. Had Sabine and Tom gone to the principle, the staff would have either simply set aside their claims as nothing more than a common personal matter between two students that they could not keep track of, as there are numerous students all having their own individual problems, or simply a bunch of accusations, just as they had  falsely believed Marinette was known for doing, year after year. And although Sabine and Tom could have taken more extreme action against this, any attempts would have proven futile so long as their daughters situation revolved around the Mayors daughter. Justice was not on the Dupain’s side, it was for Andre to control, and that control was primarily decided on by his daughter. 
(Chloe sitting in Andre’s Mayoral seat back in “Determination”, signifies the control she has over her father and his powers as Mayor)
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In the end, no matter who was willing to help and no matter who was willing to protect her, it was always left to Marinette to change things by learning to protect herself and defy the injustices around her.
(Marinette finds the confidence to stand up to Chloe in “Origins”)
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thehopelessexception · 10 months ago
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is it just me?
i've been observing a tendency surrounding women —mostly between 20 and 26— where we can't find anything close to love (from men). women are not dating, nor living a normal life, developing a femcel-like point of view. and im saying this because i want to be loved just like anyone else, but are we the problem? or is there something wrong with boys? i mean, ofc there's something wrong with boys; but every year pass by and every time is harder and harder to find someone willing to put the effort to make you feel loved and understood. was it like this 50 years ago? 100 years ago? i am very much aware that our mothers and grandmothers suffered in the world they lived in, generally with sexist husbands and mandatory tradwife lifestyle. but i am also sure that there was some exceptions, way too many more than today.
and we tend to romanticize the past, probably there's something to do with our generation. nor millennials or gen z, the ones in the middle. the girls who grew up with enough technology but not so much. the ones that went crazy over boybands and fanfiction and hung up posters in our walls. the ones that went crazy in 2018-2020 with deranged feminism just to realise, later on, nobody really cared and it maybe was a little over the top. the ones that filled our beds with stuffed animals repeatedly every time we woke up just to throw them on the floor at night so we could sleep. the girls who spent their teenage years on tumblr writing code (before men took that away from us) and making playlists of marina lana and the 1975 so everyone on the internet could see how cool we wanted to look like. probably the ones that suffered some kind of bullying in highschool or some health problem related to how we didn't fit in or how bad we looked at ourselves in the mirror (yk what i mean). we weren't the cool kids in real life or it was just me?
now i'm observing how hard it is to adapt that teenager to adult years. and maybe it's me but i don't feel like an adult. i am a tiny ball of anxiety. i suffer too much stress. i am trying to finish my degree but i don't know if im worthy of anything because i dont have money, and i don't have time to work and study at the same time because i spend too many time thinking about it and feeling a fraud and a failure.
i don't know how to talk to boys either —nor girls, in that way—. and until some days ago i was quite sure i was willing and capable of spending my whole life alone. i've given up to anything because i felt it imposible to be loved. but lately my mind goes up and down with that scene of jo monologue in little women by gretta gerwig. and it also goes with the hot priest monologue of fleabag. and today i rewatched the classic he's just not that into you. are we condemned to be the tedious rule? am i?
i've seen all of my girlfriends suffering the same mysery. and i've seen the extremes. women giving up the love they deserve —because they accepted the fate of being the rule— by dating a jerk just because they are afraid of loneliness. and i've also seen women giving up everything else just because they are not willing to give up love. those are us. hopeless romantics who watched way too many romantic comedies and somehow still expect to find someone willing to die for us just like dicaprio in romeo + juliet. —or at least a patrick verona—.
what i've never seen was actual love. all the couples i met... they don't look happy. they don't look in love. they don't look like they enjoy their own company even. they look exactly like a picture of instagram. they exist just to make us feel miserable even when it's obvious they are not gonna last. i've seen couples of what? 7 years? gone. broken up. they grew tired of each other and of course they never looked like they had anything close to sparkles in their eyes. chemistry? none. and maybe it is my anxiety speaking but i don't want that. i refuse to have that. i want all or nothing. i want always and forever. i want everyone to look at us and think "if i don't have that i'll kms". i want family —even tho im not sure i want to get pregnant, what am i a childbride?—. i don't want to change anything to fit in with the standards of a boy. i want marriage even tho im not sure i want to be legally married. i want the posibility, the future. i want the emotions surpassing myself. i want to not know me anymore and then knowing me again. i want to doubt myself. i want my heart beating so fast i could kill someone for them. i want to believe god exists. i want to laugh of happiness without they making a joke. i want my sundays to not be deppresing because i can hang out with the love of my life and have fun. i want to be the "and yet" of someone willingly enough to fall for me every single day even if i am kinda insane all the time. i want someone who cares. someone who fantasizes with spending the rest of their lives with me and is going to put the effort to get to know every single thing about me and stay because he's blown away. and aparently that's setting the bar "too high" because we are the rule and not the exception.
people always assume that by being a romantic i expect flowers every day and cheesy comments about how beautiful i look; and that would actually make me want to puke because i can do that myself. i am confortable with myself, i like myself, i love myself, i have the ego. i am not really asking for that much i just want someone to love me with every single thing that's probably wrong with me. what i want is someone curious and smart. someone who pays enough attention or wants to. i want the chemistry off the roof.
and contrary to anyone's beliefs the bar is too low about everything else. every single girl probably wants the same thing. is it that hard for men to understand that women want to feel loved?
lately —worldwide— it's all a competition of genres as if humanity doesn't need us to interact to survive. it's a loop that opened up in 2013? with the tumblr-4chan gate and right now got translated to the real world because pick-mes are back and being a man is cool. and suddenly that's how nature works!! because apparently women are boring and just a hole. maybe they all need to go all alexander the great. but it's getting boring. and we as women deserve love as much as respect.
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bunnakit · 1 year ago
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Not Me Episode 2 Music
this is kind of a boring day but there are some gems. thank you all for the kind words in the tags, pls know i'm not just rawdogging this. there is a spotify playlist of MOST of the songs (some are truly impossible to find) and i've listened to it on repeat enough i can recognize a lot of them.
So To Say - Taylor Crane
@williamrikers already touched on this one a little! This plays when White confronts the group about the plan and makes Yok reiterate the details of the plan as they're picking up the gas. (This song is also featured in episode 13 of Kinnporsche!)
??? - Tristan Barton
There's no doubt in my mind that the song playing during Dan's painting scene is a Tristan Barton composition, however, I cannot for the life of me figure out which one. It's very similar to 'Fighter' and 'Dawn Raider' - both would be very appropriate titles for this scene - but neither is quiiite right. Tristan Barton does often make custom songs for projects so it's entirely possible this was an original piece that is unlisted.
Finding My Memories - Sivan Talmor, Yehezkel Raz
Now we're into the interesting stuff. This song plays when White is confronting the image of Black and questioning why he's going to such extremes. It's fairly easy to interpret this as White desperately trying to find any key to Black's past, obtain any scrap of Black's memories to make all of this make sense.
'Freedom is the Oxygen of the Soul'
Guys I tried so hard. I spent about an hour scrounging every corner of the internet, demanding answers from Shazam and lyric finder sites, I listened to so, so many shitty songs.
@sparklyeyedhimbo had but one message for me after my hunt:
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But you know what happened? @timetoboldlygo came in CLUTCH! (Kissing you forever Claire.)
Discover by Lane King is the song that plays during the motorcycle ride with White and Gram! I've been wanting to find this song for ages, it's so soft and relaxing and beautiful and I think it's a little breath of fresh air. It's the perfect song to accompany White's semi-awakening to what it means to be truly free, to make decisions for yourself and just breathe.
Light's Gone - Nylonia
Another hard hitter. Light's Gone plays as Black flatlines? Goes into cardiac arrest? Whatever the fuck is happening to that little freak (affectionate.) The light is quite literally leaving Black's body at the same time the light in White's life is trying to leave him. Ouch.
Lunar Eclipse - Marc Torch
Ahh, Lunar Eclipse my beloved. This song appears a lot in GMMTV projects particularly. It's in The Eclipse funny enough as well as another show I watched recently and cannot for the life of me remember (Enchante maybe?) Either way, GMMTV loves Lunar Eclipse (probably because it's royalty free and they don't have to pay anything for it) and to be fair so do I. (This plays immediately after Light's Gone as White stands up and begins changing clothes.)
Stronger - Lars Lowe, Jowen
The episode ends on this song as White and Sean have their completely heterosexual little race to the garage. I believe this song is supposed to be something hopeful, almost an encouragement or reflection of White's inner thoughts. He's getting better at this, he's improving and learning to be a better Black everyday, and he's going to be better and stronger at the end of this fight he's chosen.
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thotsforvillainrights · 10 months ago
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May I request the all villain dads (and moms if there are any) when their s/o was pregnant?
(I've had to go back and dig through the masterlist because I was assuming you mean all the parent AU and I couldn't remember who all was written about. There are a few that already exist when looking on either the new or ESPECIALLY the old masterlist pinned. Also the Au's help too. I'm going to just do some off the top of my head because it would take me a while to hunt these characters down. Also I'm sorry if everyone can't fit themselves into this one. It's a specific one so you'll have to forgive me!)
~Pregnancy Reactions~
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headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble
Kai I'd imagine would be shocked at first but a small bit of relief would wash over him. Symptoms hit you hard at first so it had him rather worried about you. He was wondering if you'd been overtaken by some awful sickness. It didn't get any better when the morning nausea had kicked in. Now that he has a reason behind your suffering he at least doesn't have to worry as much about you as before. Now he can focus all his energy on the child at this point because how in the Hell could he possibly pull off being a father??? Stain or Dabi probably disappear for a very long time. I mean so long that you think you're going to be a single parent. I imagine Stain will come back to his senses long before Dabi. Luckily Dabi doesn't stay gone so long that you end up breaking things off with him. They both have reasoning of needing to clear their heads. Fatherhood has never been on the To-Do list for either of them. Nagant is surprised the transfer treatments worked. She's extremely relived when the doctor told you the transfer would be successful and the two of you were going to be parents. You both knew what you were taking on having going into this head first. Now you have the rest of forever together to figure things out. Nemoto would be the type to immediately accept things as they are. You're pregnant? Very well, then let's begin our new life as parents. He might even start to finally reconsider his blind support of Chisaki and the yakuza. That devotion was long since shaken when he'd first fallen for you. His duties have shifted. There's a small one growing that he needs to worry about now. Twice is panicking and half happy about the news. Maybe a tiny bit more panic kicks in when he starts realize just what exactly he's in for. No walk in the park but he'd be so fulfilled when he gets to meet the little one someday. They say things seem to connect when you hold them for that very first time. He's certainly no exception to this. ReDestro is prideful and over the moon at the news of course. Not just an heir to the cause but also a small piece of both you and him combined? Well that's just like magic to him. He opens his mouth and I swear he doesn't shut up about the news to anyone willing to listen to him. On and on all day long about the things he'll teach them and all the love he's got to give. There couldn't be a better husband nor father than ReDestro. Skeptic is...well...skeptical of the situation. Do you know just how much of a burden this could be? Well, when he brings it up like that then it might hurt your feelings. He's looking at things logically. Children are a massive responsibility to him. This isn't just a dog or cat...this is a living human being. He changes his tune near the end of the pregnancy. He loves you, he spends most time researching so much. He's got a digital book in his head with parenting info. He finds out soon enough that it's still not enough. Parenthood isn't easy but he's very thankful to be a dad and thankful for going through the experience with you. He's not so sure when his mind changed so much about things. But as he lulls his baby to sleep and places them gently in the crib at night, he realized he couldn't have a better life than the one you've given him.
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