#JP Skin Care

[jpskincareindia]

JP Skin Care is a renowned IPL Hair Removal Laser Machine manufacturer in India. We use the world’s best technology to produce safe and effective machines that suit your needs. Visit us today!

call us today: +919722899659

[dlartistanon]

You grew, but some things never change

[todayisafridaynight]

THIS IS GONNA SOUND SO MEAN BUT WHY DO U LIKE RYO AOKI/MASATO

masato hot

[markalison231]

Top Hair Care and Skin Clinic in Jp Nagar

Are you seeking for the top-notch Hair Care hospital and Skin Clinic in Jp Nagar, Bangalore? You are at right place, Alleyys Aesthetics, is renowned to be top Hair Care Clinic and Skin Care Clinic in Jp Nagar, offer different services for Skin Care Treatment, Hair Loss Treatment in Jp Nagar, PRP for Hair Loss Treatment, Anti-Aging Treatment, Pigmentation Treatment, Acne Treatment, Skin Rejuvenation, Wrinkle, Dark Circle, Dandruff Treatment, Non-Surgical Facelift, Skin whitening treatment in Bangalore. Visit https://www.alleyysaesthetics.co.in/

[angelwishess]

𝜗୧ Kyra Lovelace

(REMAKE) || Pinterest Boards — Playlist .

The magicless prefect of Ramshackle; a beautiful young lady who always carries herself with a sense of gracefulness and elegance fit for a princess. But behind that fair facade, lies an endless curiosity, a desire for danger and a knack for causing trouble.

𝜗୧ — BASIC INFO !

Nicknames:

Prefect / Prefect of Ramshackle

Henchman (Grim)

Trickster (Rook)

Little Shrimpy / Sea Angel (Floyd)

Kid (Leona)

Child of Man (Malleus

Lacy, Ra-ra (Cater)

Grade/Class: Freshman, Class A

Birthday: May 5

Age: 17

Height: 172.72 cm (5’8 ft) ( 177.80 /5’10 with her heels! )

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: ???

Club: Equestrian Club

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Hobbies: Designing and making clothes

Pet Peeves: Living routinely.

Favourite Food: Burgers and Steak Fries !!

Least Favorite Food: Steamed fish and liver

Talent: Making clothes out of just about anything!

Likes : Fashion, Cute things, Mythology, Folklore, Fairytales, Flower language, “Adventure”, Anything considered “Art”, Ribbons n’ frills, Pranks n’ mischief, Amusement parks, adrenaline rushes, Freedom, Cute sweets and cafe hopping!

Dislikes : “Boring things”, Normalcy/Living life routinely, pessimism, indecisiveness, lack of freedom, strong smells, studying, silence, humid weather, being looked down on / underestimated, people trying to “save her”.

Gender & Sexuality: cis girl, demisexual + demiromantic

Voice Claim(s):

Note, these are subject to change !

ENG: KJ Burkhauser (as Scylla from Epic: The Musical)

JP: ??? (None yet!)

𝜗୧ — APPEARANCE !

A tall girl with fair skin and rosey cheeks. She has long, wavy white hair that fades into a soft pink. Her eyes are also pink, but she has notable long, thick lashes. She almost always has a smile on her face. (Smiling resting face)

It is notable that she is very beautiful, and has a very elegant, other worldly aura.

No, literally… She has an aura. 😭

It honestly started as a joke but its canon now?? I seriously dont know— best example I can give is something similar to Kokomi Teruhashi from Saiki K but her aura is pink and sparkly … And she doesnt have it all the time only when she smiles shoujo style yk HAHAHAHA

𝜗୧ — PERSONALITY !

Kyra, at first, seems very elegant. The picture perfect image of what you think of when you think of the word “princess”. Shes soft-spoken, quiet, and mild-mannered. Usually not speaking unless spoken to, and always has a far-off, dreamy look on her face. She seems mysterious, and other worldly, like they pulled her out of a fairytale. Her presence attracts people and animals alike, they cant help but be drawn to her somehow.

Although she comes off as very mature and graceful at first— the true Kyra is a whirlwind of impulsivity and chaos. Shes unpredictable, and thinks in a way others way deem... strange. Shes bounce-off-the-walls energetic and eccentric, and unfortunately, a little naive too. Shes a dreamer at heart, after all!

She says and does things without thinking, often coming off as painfully honest and blunt. She says whatever she wants to and is extremely outspoken, not caring one bit about what she says.

She adores the feeling of adrenaline in her veins and would do anything to chase that high. Because of this, she always has trouble burning hot on her heels. You can bet theres never a dull moment with Kyra around - from trying to juggle fish to exploding the alchemy lab to see "how many cool colors she can make", theres always something unexpected happening around her!

She has an insatiable, childish curiosity, and is always enamored by new things! She loves learning and experiencing new things, and always goes out of her way to try and learn every day. Shes very honest, and sometimes even blunt. She enjoys a good challenge, no matter how ridiculous or extreme and hates being looked down on or underestimated.

A huge klutz and so accident prone its ridiculous, Kyra always finds herself in the middle of some sort of accident or situation. Whether on purpose or not, if theres some sort of incident shes most likely involved somehow... Safe to say that the infirmary is her second home.

Despite her seemingly thoughtless behavior; Kyra is actually very compassionate. She's always the first person to come rushing in when someone is in need, and is a little too trusting of people, to the point of naivety. Shes extremely loving and caring, and even if she teases her friends, she adores all of them dearly and views them as family!

Kyra is a very positive person! She prefers to see the bright side of things, and is so cool-headed its honestly scary. She seems to never get upset, and faces everything with a bright smile! She holds no grudges towards anyone, and is so full of love sometimes its sickening. She chooses to always look forward, and move on from disasters with an even bigger smile than before.

Shes the kind of person that leaves a lasting impression. If you’ve met her, you’ll never forget her! No matter how rambunctious and chaotic she is, she spreads her love and her light to everyone she meets, and before you know it, she’ll find some way to worm her way into your heart! As a friend, and as a companion. A soul as lovely and as beautiful as her’s is sure to leave an impression you’ll never forget.

𝜗୧ — BACKGROUND / LORE (TW: for dehumanization.)

The life of a princess; from her birth is well defined. She must humbly serve her country and her people and wordlessly play the role she has been assigned.

She has no other purpose, after all. This is what she is meant for- the only thing shes good for. To not speak, nor think for herself. To act only for the sake of others.

Because that is what a princess does. She does not have any other identity outside of this. Nor does she need any identity outside of this. This is the only thing shes good for, what gives her worth. Purpose. She is nothing if not her title and her beauty, a tool for the kingdom to use for its advantage. She is someone— no, something to be used.

But, Kyra is a dreamer. She wants, and she wants. No matter how many times she tries to stop it. She cant help that yearning for freedom she so desperately desires. Yearning, to be more than what shes told she is. Yearning to have more than what they have planned for her.

From her birth, she was forbidden from ever stepping foot outside the palace walls, her father much harsher on her than her other siblings. She escaped through fairytales, and filled her head with dreams of the fantastical. Of course, this only made her want more. It fueled her wonder and curiosity of the outside world, and dreamed that one day she would be able to leave and explore the world for herself.

Of course, as years passed she had she had long played the role as princess, obeyed every command and compliantly did everything the people asked of her. She threw away her own desires for the sake of her country- because that is her only purpose.

But you can only push someone so far.

After getting news from her father that she was promised to a prince, she stormed back to her room to weep. All of her dreams now crushed, and her hope gone.

She ripped out the pages of an old scrapbook shes had since she was a little girl. All of her dreams of adventure written and illustrated in lead and colorful pencils— now ripped to shreds. Nothing but little pieces of paper, of thrown out dreams. Dreams of leaving this palace and going to the beach, or an amusement park. Dreams of travelling the world and to see what it has to offer...

Dreams to make friends, and have grand adventures with them.

All hope was lost... Atleast thats what she thought, until she looked up to the sky and saw a shooting star. Out of desperation, she made a wish. The first time in years, as childish as it was she had no other choice.

And when she woke up, she was in a world she always dreamed of going to. And she couldn't be any happier. Maybe… Just this once, even just for a little while… She can be selfish too.

𝜗୧ — NOTABLE RELATIONSHIPS !

Kyra ♡ Floyd — Bestfriends! Or more. || Theres no one on land or in the sea that could ever be more in sync than these two. Always on the same page and wreacking havoc wherever they go, they’re an inseperable duo attatched to the hip! They say they’re best friends, but everyone can see the dopey, lovestruck expression on their faces when they look at eachother. They’ll keep denying it, but no one knows why. (Wanna know more? Floyra’s intro post will be linked here!) (when i make it. Sighs.)

Kyra & Leona — “Big bro!” || Kyra seemed to take a liking to the beastman after the events of Book 2, often following him around like a lost puppy. She sees him as an older brother figure— sevens know why, but as time passes Leona found himself seeing her as his little sister, too. Perhaps, Kyra yearned for someone to call her older sibling. After all she never got to spend any time with hers.

Kyra & Malleus — Closest friend. || Both royalty thats underdeveloped socially, with a curiosity for the seemingly mundane things of the everyday life of humans— Kyra and Malleus are quite the duo, Kyra thought he looked so cool when they first met, and immediately invited him into Ramshackle! At the end of the night, she invited him to visit again the next day. When asked why, she said they were friends. And ever since, they’ve found comfort in eachother’s presence, and being eachother’s close friend.

Kyra & Crewel — “Dad!” || Kyra lacked a proper father figure in her life before arriving to TWST, her biological father being very distant. Crewel made her feel like she actually had a father figure, and now shes always quick to help him whenever she can. (… Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to approve of her choice with Floyd.)

Kyra & Adeuce — Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest. || Ah. The original trio. Kyra looks out for them— but most of the time just lets them be because she thinks its funny watching them flail around whenever they’re in trouble. Basically, they all act like siblings. Always teasing and poking fun at eachother, but also always the first to rush to eachothers side whenever real trouble arises.

Kyra & Jamil — Parallels. || Kyra wanted to be mad at him. To be dissappointed in him, to tell him off after the events of Book 4. But, she couldn’t. She didn’t feel angry at all, her anger from earlier while seeing Kalim cry was faded, sizzled into nothing but a gaping hole of guilt— because how could she hate someone she understands so very deeply? She understands. He doesn’t think so. How could he know she understands when all he sees is her running as free as the wind? But, he doesn’t know, that his freedom is eventual, and promised. And hers is temporary.

(Note: Kyra and Jamil also end up having a sibling-like relationship!!)

𝜗୧ — OC RELATIONSHIPS !

Kyra & Poppy (@/justm3di0cr3) — “Lil’ sis!” || Both gleeful rays of sunshine that attract people, these two are inseperable! Kyra loves to spoil her little sister rotten with gorgeous dresses she designed, and they often have tea parties together to catch up! They love eachother dearly, and see eachother as family!

Kyra & Paige (@/4necdote) — “Mom!” || Kyra never had a mother, atleast not before Paige. And for that, she loves her so very dearly. Sorry Crewel, but shes a total Mama’s Girl!

Kyra & Elena — “Lil’ sis! pt. 2” || Elena has never been one to trust— But Kyra is just too presistent, too sweet and naive. To trust someone who calls herself a monster… How stupid is she? But even then… Kyra still believes in her. She says that she is kind even after all the betrayal, and deep down Elena wants to believe it too. Kyra sees Elena for who she is, and no one other than Azul and her brothers has done that before.

𝜗୧ — TRIVIA / FUNFACTS !

Kyra is Twisted from the stereotype of a Disney Princess!

While Kyra may be a stereotype, there are some princesses that I took inspo from the most! Those are: Giselle, Belle, Rapunzel, and Jasmine!! Cinderella and Snow White too, but thats just because theyre basically the disney princess blue print LMAO

^^ Kyra takes a lot of inspiration from Giselle especially!! She has a lot of her mannerisms. (Body language, the hand movements, ykyk)

In the canon storyline, no one knows Kyra’s past as royalty, and she never mentions it. She keeps it hidden throughout the events of the story, as she doesn’t want to remember it.

Kyra has a unique affinity towards animals that make them naturally drawn to her. Funnily enough, this also extends to merfolk and beastmen! Although its much more subtle.

Because of her past, Kyra is new to most things she interacts with in general. She was enamored when she saw a vending machine for the first time.

Kyra is an adrenaline junkie.

Kyra likes to dig through trash cans. Thats it.

With waaay too much energy, Kyra just cant stay still for a minute. Always off on some random side quest, working a part-time job at Sam's just for the fun of it to partying it up with Scarabia, she just can't stick to one thing for too long! She'll disappear for a minute and come back with something completely random. You really never know with her.

Despite how she seems, Kyra does NOTT take shit from anyone. If she doesnt vibe with you, she’ll just leave. And if you piss her off, its on SIGHT. Will absolutely throw hands regardless of who you are

[cerastes]

So ig my question is why don’t the Chinese or Japanese markets care much ab this?

I’m going to answer this from perhaps a different angle than expected, prefacing this with “completely generalizing is easy and stupid” so we’re not going to be doing that.

Now, without you knowing, you’ve probably seen a hundred Things You Should Have Cared About, like caricatures or vilification of Korean people in Japanese media, without realizing you were looking at that. Sayonara Zetsubou-Sensei, I hear, has plenty of that “hidden” in some of its jokes (I share this anecdotally as I have not read that, only heard of this). Some years ago, think about how a lot of tension existed because of Attack on Titan’s imperialist/nationalist undertones that the average Westerner couldn’t immediately grasp. Yuuki Yuuna Is A Hero was a fun watch for me right up until its nationalist undertones, well, overtones registered to me as entirely intentional and sincere.

But if it doesn’t register as an issue to you, why would you see it as an issue? It can very well BE an issue, you just don’t even consider it could be one because you lack cultural background or, well, “cultural fucks” to give, let’s call it. It’s invisible ink, right in front of you, but you don’t see it.

So, flip it around. There’s racist Chinese/Japanese people, there’s progressive CN/JP people, there’s people that don’t really care either way or see it as an issue the same way Uncle Cleetus from the U.S. may or may not be aware of Chinese violence against natives, even if he is aware and cares about U.S. violence against natives.

It can always just be an issue of “that is so very distant to me that I can’t really put Caring Power on it given all the things closest to me that I have to put Caring Power into”.

It’s not about whether these things matter or not — I think they do matter — but inevitably the majority of people think more locally in terms of cultural fucks to give, so, they just don’t really care either way if they have more darker skinned characters or not, I’d say for the majority of people over there.

And, in the context of gacha, they are selling desirable designs, and what’s considered desirable by that demographic, going by their market studies and other such data, is probably light skinned anime girls, thus, that’s what most gacha characters are going to be, with anything straying from that being tangibly a risk. Because these games are made by corporations, not entities that ever claimed to be trying to be progressive.

If Chinese players wanted more variety of Chinese Character in, say, Call of Duty, with dialects and other local cues, John Call Of Duty probably would not give a shit, nor would the majority of Call of Duty players in the West, even those that can be perfectly progressive. It’s like that.

[televised-uhhh-nerdistry]

Cartoon rec of the week:

Craig of the Creek

I haven't seen enough people talking about the show, so I'm mentioning it here. Absolute 10/10 cartoon. Just three kids, running 'round, making friends, running their own semi-sustainable community in the forest (there are some concerns about how much trash they leave there but ultimately they're better than most adults). Literally such a dream. they encourage each other to be emotionally healthy and they protect each other from "danger". Like they'll help each other achieve their dreams as they come (and new dreams show up pretty often because they're young kids).

And they're so funny! Like genuinely these kids are so earnest and intelligent and incredibly humorous and full of heart! They have full lives and they live them to the fullest out in nature after school, on the weekends, and in the summer. It's one of the best representations of found family I have ever seen in a cartoon, and I absolutely love it.

Also several of the writers behind the show are POC and queer (I think the head writers are all Black but I could be wrong), so you know that it was written well and the representation is awesome like I know that it should absolutely go without saying, but representation is much more than just showing BIPOC people on screen, and in terms of cartoons I haven't seen that many shows understanding that fact except maybe the Proud Family, Fat Albert, and a few others whose names will return to me once I've taken my ADHD meds. But the point is that Craig of the Creek gets it right. Most of the characters throughout the show (from what I've seen) are BIPOC, and you can tell that there are caring nods to BIPOC communities (primarily Black American communities), and more than that, that the writers know what they're talking about and are deeply familiar with and are a part of those communities. Craig, the titular character, is a young Black boy, and his family are middle class and ultimately very successful Black people. Kelsey (one of the main characters) is Jewish and Polish, and written with more complexity than having a one and done Hanukah celebration. The Creek's main business, a trading post, is run by Kit, a young Black girl with a love for economy and business. And many other characters are racial or ethnic minorities as well, and it warms my heart to see these characters done justice time and time again.

There's great subtle queer rep too, and you can tell it wasn't written just for the sake of representation, like it was thought out and intentional, and it worked beautifully. There are queer witches, and there are no labels applied to them, they're just allowed to exist with no explanations, happily in love with one another. There's a non-binary character later in the series (I'm only like 10 episodes in so I haven't met them yet but I've read amazing things about them). Kelsey also apparently identifies as a lesbian later in the series (I say "apparently" because I haven't done much reading so as to avoid spoilers, not because I am discounting her identity). On top of that, JP (one of the main characters) has a sister who is dating another girl.

There's also a significant amount of body positivity in the show, at least far than I've seen elsewhere. Not only do they openly say "all bodies are beautiful" and follow up on that by defending one another, there's also very little need to defend one another, because there's a very unspoken and deep respect in the Creek for things like body type, skin colour, disabilities, and so on. The kids of the creek, and their grown ups, are all different body types, and given their penchant for community and uplifting one another, it's no wonder they all seem confident in their bodies.

Not to mention the disability representation. There is a character later on in the series who is Black and deaf, and he not only speaks in Sign Language, but in Black American Sign Language. In addition, though unconfirmed, many of the kids in the creek embody aspects of various neurotypes. For example, the three main characters, Craig, Kelsey, and JP all come across as neurodivergent, with special interests, neurodivergent ways of thinking, and so on. Some have speculated that JP has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which is a disability often comorbid with ADHD. Not to mention that all the kids in the creek embody different special interests, most of which would be considered weird or frowned upon in everyday society, but that are given the opportunity to shine and flourish in the Creek's accepting culture.

Take the Horse Girls for example, a small clique of girls who roleplay as horses in a pasture near the Creek, and of course many of their behaviours are played as jokes, but ultimately they are accepted and involved in many adventures because of their unique interests and abilities which are ultimately how they aid the rest of the Creek. Every kid is a useful and accepted part of the Creek, with the exception of the ranger scout kids, who are essentially the same as cops, who are often exploitative, rude, and disruptive to the community as a whole.

Ultimately, the show is one of love, friendship, community, and acknowledging differences as a natural and helpful part of life. On top of that, it's not copaganda! What more could you want?

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Epilogue

Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!

Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.

GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)

Previously on Just Pretend

"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."

~

"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."

~

Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.

~

"Are we not friends, y/n?"

"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."

"I don't hate you. I think."

~

Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.

"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."

~

"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.

"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

~

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

~

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

~

"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."

~

Now...

"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"

You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?

"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."

And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.

"He's in love with you, stupid."

That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.

But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.

But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.

"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"

Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.

"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."

She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.

"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"

You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.

Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?

“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”

Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.

“I’m … what?”

“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”

“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.

“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”

There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.

“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”

“No, you’re just being a bitch.”

Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?

“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”

Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.

“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”

Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,

“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”

And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.

“I’ll see you there, darling.”

Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.

Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.

[You]: PABLO

[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID

Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.

[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small

[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car

There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.

[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text

[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho

"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.

"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.

"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''

"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.

"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.

"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.

"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."

Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?

"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.

"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,

"More like six months actually."

"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.

"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.

"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.

"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.

"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."

"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.

"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."

[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours

The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.

[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy

"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.

"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,

"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."

There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.

"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.

Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.

"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."

"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.

"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."

"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.

"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"

"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.

"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."

[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)

You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...

[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?

[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass

"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.

"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.

"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).

"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"

The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.

"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."

"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.

"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.

"Pedri, I'm worried."

The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.

"What're you worried about?"

Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.

"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."

"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.

"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.

"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"

"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."

"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"

"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.

"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.

"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"

Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.

"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."

As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.

"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.

"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.

"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."

You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.

"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."

Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.

~

"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."

"Oh."

"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."

You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.

"Wait you have a balcony?"

That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.

The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.

"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"

Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.

"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.

"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.

"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.

"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?

"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."

Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.

It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.

"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."

His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.

"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."

You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.

Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.

"Remember the first time we met?"

"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.

"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."

Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,

"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."

You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.

"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.

"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"

This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.

"Pablo..."

The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.

"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.

"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."

"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.

"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."

There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.

"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.

"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."

"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."

Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.

Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.

Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.

"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

~

"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.

"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.

"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"

"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.

The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.

"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.

"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.

"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"

"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.

"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.

"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"

"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.

"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"

"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.

"Come lay next to me while you rant."

Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.

"You want me to?"

"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"

"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."

"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"

You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.

"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.

"Oh, right - where was I?"

"She never put any effort into the relationship."

"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.

"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.

"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.

"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.

"So we have two more matches with you?"

"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.

"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.

"So after that, what? What's next?"

"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."

"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.

"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."

"At the what?"

"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"

"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.

Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.

"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."

Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.

"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"

You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.

"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.

"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."

""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').

"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."

"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."

"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"

"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.

"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."

This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.

Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.

~

"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."

"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."

"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."

"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."

The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.

"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.

"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.

"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."

It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.

"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."

Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.

"Think we're going to win?"

"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."

"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."

"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.

"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Who's going to stop me?"

"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."

"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."

"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."

"A screamer."

You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.

"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."

Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.

The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.

An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.

They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.

"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).

"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.

"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.

"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.

~

@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them

1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies

@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to

@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle

@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????

@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her

You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.

[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3

[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet

[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.

And now the most recent one had come through:

[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!

The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.

[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.

[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.

[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.

You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.

He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.

[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris

"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."

"First of all, we're not friends-"

"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.

"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."

"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.

"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"

~

"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."

Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.

"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."

It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.

"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"

"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."

The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.

"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.

"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.

"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."

"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."

"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."

"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."

After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.

"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.

"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.

"I try and keep up."

"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"

"I can't afford-"

"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"

You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.

"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.

"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)

"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.

"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.

"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.

"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"

"Let's not open that can of worms."

~

"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.

"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."

"The... what?"

"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.

"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.

"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."

"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"

"Yes."

"And my accomodation..?"

"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"

"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.

"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"

The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.

"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.

He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.

"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."

"He looks at her like he's in love."

"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."

Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.

"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.

The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.

"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.

"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.

"Pedri! Gavi!"

You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.

"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.

"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.

"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.

"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.

"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.

"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.

"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".

"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.

"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.

"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.

"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.

"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.

"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.

"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.

"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.

"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."

"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.

"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."

"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."

"I won't Pablo."

"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.

"What are you.. what was that?"

"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.

"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."

He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.

~

"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."

It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.

"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.

"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."

"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.

"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."

"I do really want to see her in a dress."

"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.

He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.

"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."

"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"

He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.

"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.

"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"

The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.

"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.

Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.

"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.

"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."

"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.

"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.

"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."

A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.

"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.

"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.

"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.

~

"And the winner is... Gavi."

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.

"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."

All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.

~

Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.

"Pablo! There you are!"

He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).

"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.

"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

"Y/N! There you are."

Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.

"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.

"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.

"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.

"I'm really nothing special."

"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."

You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.

"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"

Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.

"Hermano, are you-"

"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.

"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."

"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."

"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."

"What?"

"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."

A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.

He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.

"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."

Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.

"Please don't be in love with someone else."

He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.

He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.

"Pablo?"

He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Please, tell me he's not in there."

"Who, Pablo?"

"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."

There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.

"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."

This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.

Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.

You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.

"Your award, Pablo."

"You're my real prize of this evening."

"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.

"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.

"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."

"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."

~

You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.

"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.

"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.

"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.

"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.

"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.

"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.

"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.

"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.

"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.

"Pablo it's too good."

"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."

He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.

"Open up, pretty girl."

"Pablo, want you. Want you please."

"I'm right here, baby. All yours."

You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.

"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."

He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.

"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.

"Pablo. I..."

"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.

"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Please don't leave me after we have sex."

He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.

"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.

"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.

"Pablo," you whined.

He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.

"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.

"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.

"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.

"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.

"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."

You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.

"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.

"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.

"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.

"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.

"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"

You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.

"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."

"I love you more, Pablo."

"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."

He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.

[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano

~

The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.

"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."

His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.

"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."

There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.

"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."

"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.

"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."

"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."

"I hope you never stop."

~

A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738 @sideeblogsstuff @halaxxx @berriesaren

[mochinomnoms]

Sequel to my "Best (human) boy for periods" ranking; here comes the worsties (Affectionate)

Ace - Ultimate teenage boy(tm), is gonna make a big stink and fuss over how he doesn't wanna hear about you being on or think about it. "No poops, no farts, no periods"! kinda guy. He'll get better when he's older but in your first year as friends? He's gonna tease and antagonise you. If you're the emotional type when you'er on, you can turn the tables on him by crying and getting the whole class to go "Wow, what an asshole" at him for the rest of the week tho.

Vil - This guy holes everyone to the same standards as him, fully believing everyone can give 110% at all times. He's gonna come at you about how just because you're on the rag doesn't mean you can start snacking on chocolate bars all the time (or any comfort food). He WILL critique your skincare routine if your skin breaks out. One day he'll look back at how he treated you and thank Rook for literally carrying him away from you before you killed him.

Epel - Not really his fault, but considering his "old fashioned" upbringing, things like periods were just Not Discussed, even between the women in his family, so Epel's first reaction to learning that you're on is just a sound "I didn't hear that" slowly evolving into a "Why tf are you telling me this?" (Because I bled through my trousers and can't get up from this chair Epel, jeez). Just will not engage with the subject at hand.

Deuce - More of an inbetween than actually the worst(tm), he earns a lot of brownie points for wanting to help you and is the type to panic buy every item on the shelf. BUT! if you're the type to get moody or aggressive when you're on, he's instinctively gonna meet aggression with aggression and you two will have to be seperated for a while.

Idia - Just straight up wont deal with it, he'll send Ortho to help you. Best you're gonna get from this guy is a "RIP LMAO" when you text him that you're on :(

Honorable mention: Silver. Not his fault either, but being raised in a predominantly fairy based family unit, periods are an alien concept to him. Won't really understand what's going on when you try to explain it to him, and with Lilia as his main guide, is gonna make a LOT of mistakes before he gets things right but he get's a lot of points for trying to help. Might even use his UM to see into your dreams/memories to get a feel for what it's like, just so he can better know how to help you.

Aww, see I get that it would be realistic for some of the boys to be immature and get grossed out, but it's a fantasy world! Maybe my fantasy is that the boys are semi-educated on the human body and are gonna support me during my periods 😭

I really think both Vil and Deuce should be given more credit, though. Vil is very in touch with his femininity, and doesn't really disrespect others unless they disrespect him or cause trouble, based on his interactions with others at least. I think he'd be excellent because he can make the best pain potions for your cramps, and might be willing to give you tips on how to care for your skin during your hormonal periods. But only if he likes you.

Deuce was raised only by his mama, and based on what I know of her from the JP event, she def gives off the vibes of "I'm teaching my son how to care and respect women." He'd probably understand that you're not being aggressive with him for the sake of it, you emotions are being messed with due to all the hormones fluctuating in your body. But I do agree that he is the type to panic buy one of everything to help you out.

The others, I can see it, though I would like to this that Epel's case is less of being raised old-fashioned (nothing about him and the way he interacts with others screams old-fashioned to me), and more of being one of the few young people in a town of old people. The folk that can have periods don't because they've probably gone through menopause! It doesn't occur to them that he should probably know about periods!!!

Ace and Idia are just immature and dumb and I love them. Also, rip Silver, he's never interacted with another human outside of Sebek's dad.

Anyways my headcanon for the TWST universe is that they actually teach biology and anatomy so people aren't taught to know nothing about things like periods. Cause that's stupid why do we do that?

[tempvstas]

Hello's I was wondering if I could request something. I was curious if you could do an overblot reader based on this song. (https://youtu.be/zEGbIpD6wNo), with the housewardens If you can I would be so grateful. If not that is okay, I understand. Just thought it would be cool. Thank you

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Content Warning(s): angst hehe, not really spoilers, but I mention every single overblot from in the game(in JP, not EN)

Character(s): GN!Reader, most of the TWST cast(too lazy to type out everyone's name)

Authors Notes: this song is so angsty i love it HAHAHHA, apologies for the long wait. Characters may be ooc because it's been a while. Also some parts may not make sense. Interactions can be seen as platonic or romantic.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

The Nowhere King

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

It's dark.

You can feel a coldness against your skin, seeping into your bones.

The voices are muffled, where are you? You're sinking, deeper and deeper into a seemingly bottomless lake, the darkness surrounding you. A voice urges you to close your eyes, whispering for you to close your eyes and to give into the endless void closing in around you. And somehow you don't feel like resisting. You succumb, curling into yourself, feeling the tender embrace of your murky surroundings.

Unbeknownst to you, a battle rages outside of the safe haven of the cocoon you wrapped yourself in.

.....

"Dammit...no one told me they would be this strong," Leona grits his teeth as he stares up at your imposing form. Behind your current overblotted form looms a large imposing inky figure. An entity stitched together, its face covered with the distinct head of glass with leaking ink seen in all overblot forms, complemented with two large, round ears atop its head. Its white ink-stained gloves slam into the floor sending dust and pieces of the ground flying into the air. Everyone stands before you, worn out from how long the fight has dragged out.

Azul staggers to his feet, wincing slightly as he pushes up his glasses, his eyes narrowing as he stares at your form. "They've lost all sense of rationality. It appears as though our words at this point will be futile." Kalim's eyes go wide at Azul's words, panic settling into his gaze. "What do we do? We're never going to get them back." He whimpered.

From where he's stationed, Riddle peeks out from behind the fallen rubble he used as a shelter, he quickly shoots off a blast of fire in your direction. The blast does little to damage you but merely aggravates you more as the entity behind you swings its hands with reckless abandon scattering more debris everywhere. "Then we just need to blast some sense into them! Just like they did for us..." he stares around at his fellow housewardens. Behind the 7 housewardens, it's chaos. Ace, Deuce, and Grim can be seen running in your general vicinity distracting you as the housewardens formulate a plan to bring you back to your senses. Jack in wolf form charges at you with Epel atop his back, screaming obscenities that would send Vil into a coma, but he can't seem to bring himself to care at the moment

Amidst the screaming and yelling behind them, Idia shakily clears his throat catching everyone's attention. He shrinks away as 6 pairs of eyes focus in on him. "..H-how did none of us realize that they would end up like this? After all, we've all undergone this...a-and did no one notice that the Prefect was a bit off in the past few days?" Vil scoffs, shaking his head, "If you noticed, why didn't you say anything?" Idia moves to rebuke Vil but Malleus cuts in before he can say anything.

"That's enough Shroud, Schoenheit. Do you really think the Child of Man would like to see us bickering over them like this? As we all know, they are not the best at expressing themself." With his words, everyone falls silent. "So the best thing that we can do is to be for them, as they were there for us in our most dire time of need. All in favor?"

Leona huffs, pushing Malleus aside, his shoulder bumping against Malleus's as he gets up from where he was standing. "No need to tell me what to do lizard," he sneers, holding up his staff, watching you swipe repeatedly at the first and second years waging battle against you. "And it looks like to me that the herbivores out there are starting to get worn out, while we sit here all nice and pretty," he pauses, his gaze becoming unreadable, "As much as I hate the idea of working alongside Malleus, I can't help but agree with the fact that they were there for all of us, and I don't like someone being able to hold something against me...so what say you that we go out there and bring them back to their senses?" he grins, leaping down from atop the rubble and running out.

Vil sighs, before dusting himself off and standing tall, a smirk on his face, "I can't let Leona take all of the glory so it looks like I'll have to join myself." As he follows suit, the other housewardens also get to their feet, charging at you to assist their underclassmen.

.....

Hush now, hide, all you little ones Rush now, into the middle of nowhere Singing and laughter will die

You find yourself drowning, struggling to make sense of your surroundings. You feel an overwhelming sense of grief, coupled with anger. Anger at Crowley for being useless and deflecting as always when questioned about a way for you to get back home. Anger at being forced into situations that you had no control over. And most of all, anger at yourself for not being able to do anything and always feeling helpless. Never being able to fend for yourself and always having to depend on others to be able to take care of you.

It's happened time and time again, with Riddle's temper tantrum in the Heartslabyul rose maze. Leona's rampage in the Spelldrive stadium. Azul's meltdown over his contracts in the Octavinelle dorm. Jamil's outburst over winter break. Vil's spiral during the VDC competition. Idia's change of heart on the Island of Woe. Malleus forcing everyone into a slumber. It was all too much for you to bear.

Give in. The voice in your head whispers. Rest now, and let me take over.

Dreamless sleep, follows the Nowhere King When his kingdom comes, darkness is nigh

That's right, you're nobody. Insignificant. Useless. No place to truly call home, and no one to go home to. The darkness seeps in coaxing you to give in.

...

Give in.

.......

...........

Give in.

.................

........................

.............................

GIVE IN.

For a brief moment, you open your eyes and visions flash before your eyes. Your friends in danger, everyone screaming and running. Is that...your doing?

You raise your hand to your head to alleviate the pounding headache racking your brain, but your horrified to see that your hands have morphed into ink stained ones, covered and dripping with black liquid. You feel nauseous and sick to your stomach, covering your mouth to resist the urge to hurl out your guts right then and there. You stumble as you shield your face from the blinding blasts of magic flung your way.

Quiet, crawl to the in-between Silent, secretive feeling Of fearsome hatred that reaches the skies

You've always kept your emotions to yourself haven't you?

As much as you hate to admit it, there's resentment that has always bubbled beneath the surface. You don't show it but you've always been envious of your friends who have somewhere or someone to go to whilst you're stuck with nothing, no one to rely on.

.....

Isn't that right?

Why was it you of all people?

It's not fair, isn't it....?

The mask you've so carefully crafted starts to slip and crumble to pieces. You fall to your knees, gasping for air. Inky tears stain your face as the ground bites into the palms of your hands.

You will bring joy to the Nowhere King When he sees the light leaving your eyes

.....

With one final combined magical blast, the entity behind you lets out a roar of pain before collapsing. It's delicate glass face cracks and shatters, more ink spilling out. As it falls, so to do you, your body crumpling lifelessly. Thankfully before you can hit the ground, Malleus swoops in beneath you, cushioning your fall with his arms. Gently, he cradles your face checking you for injuries before setting you down, his arms supporting your body.

"We...did it?" Azul murmurs in disbelief, his breathing ragged. Everyone else doesn't seem to be faring better than he is. It seems everyone has worn out themselves in the battle.

Everyone crowds around you, concern in their gazes. Before long, your eyes flutter open, and you let out a groan of pain, trying to sit up. "WAAHHHHHHHH Y/N!!" Grim sprints up to you, leaping into your lap, his face tearing up. Still out of it, you grunt, feeling his paws make impact with your stomach and you let out a sharp exhale of pain. It's funny. You think to yourself. Grim never uses your actual name. "You had me so worried don't ever do that again okay?" Grim sniffled rubbing his face into your shirt. "Ew Grim, you're getting snot all over me," you scold him lightly but your voice is soft as you press a hand to the top of his head.

"Take it easy, you're hurt." Vil murmurs, kneeling next to you and wiping your ink-stained face gently. His tone although laced with worry is uncharacteristically soft, his slender fingers feel cool. You inadvertently find yourself leaning into his touch, shutting your eyes.

"W-what happened?" you croak out, wincing a bit. Everything aches and hurts whenever you move.

"You...overblotted..." Jamil murmurs quietly. "You weren't acting like yourself and before long...." he gestured at you, indicating the state you were in.

You inhale a shaky breath, pushing yourself up so that you can face everyone better. You feel tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill out. "I'm sorry everyone...I didn't mean to cause so much trouble. I lost my cool...and it ended up with you all forced to use your magic against me and wear yourselves out. All because I couldn't control my emotions..."

No one speaks a word, letting you convey your thoughts. There's a brief moment before Grim walks up to you, gently pressing a paw to your leg to get your attention. You stare down at him, surprised by the serious look on his face.

"Henchman, no one is going to blame you for feeling emotions," he pauses. "You've already done so much for everyone, there's only so much stress you can take." Grim shrugs looking at everyone around you two. "I keep telling them that they're working too hard, but they always insist on seeing things through to the end." Everyone laughs a little at Grim's wording and you can't help but crack a slight smile at his words.

"Classic prefect shishishi," Ruggie smirks, his hands resting behind his neck. You shake your head, setting Grim down on the floor as you attempt to get up. Riddle takes notice of this, leaning down and offering you his shoulder for support. Gratefully, you take it, leaning heavily against him.

"Prefect," your name hangs in the air as you stare at Riddle curiously. "I can't promise that I can offer the best support to you, but I hope you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I will be here to listen to you...even if I can't offer the best advice." Deuce comes up besides you, supporting your other shoulder, "Ace and I will be here too, you're not alone in this," he grins, allowing you to shift your weight against him.

You feel yourself start to tear up again, your head falling over, your shoulders shaking. "Thank you..everyone. Thank you for bringing me back."

"You were there when we were at our lowest. It's only fair that we return the favor."

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Back to Navigation [ ❖ ]

Back to the Masterlist [ ❖ ]

Request Tracker [ ❖ ]

[yunarim]

hello! If you can, can you write a head cannon(others are fine) with the femperfect who had an ability to neutralize magic with a simple physical contact? Like the magic will automatically disappear once it makes contact with her so she often wears gloves, and I would like to see the overblots reaction(if you can't do all you can just do malleus ^^) thank you!

yuu can neutralize the use of any kind of magic with a touch.

… ✦ characters : overblot squad … ✦ tags : female reader, books 1-7 major spoilers, hurt/comfort, cursing in leona's and vil's parts, mention of blood in leona's part, jp translation terms (dorm leader, VDC), can be read platonically in all of parts except for vil, idia & esp malleus ones (i imply romantic way tho), me experimenting with the format or something … ✦ song : monochrome frame ⏤ kanon wakeshima … ✦ recommended : light mode [ … ✦ ao3 ]

… ✦ Riddle Rosehearts ┆touching . . . neck ⏤ ✧ Her wearing gloves wasn’t exceptional. They all were, and since Yuu didn’t have her specifically designed dorm uniform, indeed, it was quite common for her to wear gloves. 

⏤ ✧ Riddle would often find her look around before washing hands and taking off her gloves.

⏤ ✧ One day he realized he waited for her to do that and observe if she hid something underneath this accessory item but ended up dispelling his own doubts - her hands were just beautiful. 

“Oh, do you eat this with your hands?” She asked at an unbirthday party, glancing at a pink cupcake on the plate before her. 

“Yes, as a rule. If you’re worrying about getting messy, do not fret. The cupcake doesn't crumble, and Trey made sure the cream isn’t too greasy and doesn’t stick to the fingers.”

Yuu smiled, taking off her gloves and wrapping her fingers around a small cupcake. 

“Woah, such a nice taste! Tell Trey he did well.”

Still, he wondered, what was the mystery shrouded in darkness of her gloves. 

⏤ ✧ Yuu was gentle in her actions, she never judged, smiling tenderly and telling him to take his time and not to rush things. 

⏤ ✧ Unlike a certain duo getting on his nerves.

⏤ ✧ Never in his life felt he so powerful, so authoritative, so… valid. 

⏤ ✧ Something underneath was telling him it wasn’t right to throw insults at her and just… yell like he was a little child, not knowing how to handle his own emotions.

⏤ ✧ Yet maybe he was, calling her insolent and foolish. 

⏤ ✧ She was just a magicless human! Why rush to him, tearing her gloves off her hands and screaming something with such an obstinate gaze fixed on him?

“My goodness, Riddle, come to your senses!”

⏤ ✧ Her touch felt so ephemeral and light on his deadly cold skin, and even though his almost devilishly malevolent grin didn’t scare her, Yuu still bit her lip after Riddle’s phrenetic laughter. 

⏤ ✧ A sudden flash of light made him switch his attention to what happened to him just in a mere second. 

The overflowing power that pounded in his vessels with a burning seething abruptly left him in an instant, devastating his mind and body.

He collapsed, exhausted, to the ground, barely finding the strength to raise a pair of bulging eyes to her and exhale brokenly.

“What did you?.. Huh…”

⏤ ✧ He was at loss for words, not even caring about Trey’s concerns at the moment. 

⏤ ✧ Light flickered on where she touched him, and he welcomed the sensation without realizing it.

“You… you do have magic after all?”

⏤ ✧ One little gentle touch, and all of his enormous powers are gone. So simple yet devastating.

“I would call magic not the fact I neutralized you, but rather…”

She embraced him, welcoming into her tender hug and encouraging him to let all his negative emotions free, and he laughed, hiding his teary eyes in her shoulder.

Maybe she was right, and this was her real magic.

… ✦ Leona Kingscholar ┆touching . . . shoulders ⏤ ✧ He wasn’t surprised that Heartslabyul little tyrant or what do they call him even was defeated with the help of Ramshackle dorm girl.

⏤ ✧ Women are strong. And that’s a rule.

⏤ ✧ But one look at Prefect’s hands got him thinking that maybe she was strong another way. Such hands couldn’t bring harm to anyone, he was sure of it.

⏤ ✧ Her rather adamant gaze on him was such an entertaining sight to witness. 

Leona chuckled when she stepped on his tail. She did apologize for her behavior, of course, but he knew from the very beginning that she wasn’t entirely regretting her actions.  

“I’m really sorry,” her voice was firm, steady and solid enough for him to fix his gaze on her a little longer than he thought he would.

“You aren’t, Prefect.”

“Do I know you?” 

She didn’t. Yet he knew her after what happened, his eyes locked on her hands in an examining way. 

⏤ ✧ A little thought of asking Riddle what the hell is wrong with her hands since no trace of magic was found on her. ⏤ ✧ She was just a normal girl minding her business, and it was supposed to be this way.

⏤ ✧ He wasn’t against her planting flowers when he was around since she remained quiet, her head full of worry because of those little accidents he sabotaged with Ruggie’s help. 

He did know he should stay away from her hands. 

Especially in that state when his own looked so rough, long pointed claws clenching in fists and digging into the palms, scarlet blood mixed with viscous ink trickled down his hands.

⏤ ✧ Such a reckless human being, knowing nothing about his disappointment, rushed to him without any doubt. What a joke. 

⏤ ✧ Even hyenas turned against him, and would she even make any difference? Of course not…

⏤ ✧ He was trying to convince himself he stopped for a mere moment because she was a magicless woman. 

And yet somehow she almost grabbed his hand, claiming he was being unreasonable and unstable and some other pathetic bullshit.

He brushed off her hand, knowing it would do something to him. Something he realized he wasn’t so opposed to accepting when she yelled out his name, this time putting both her hands on his shoulders.

“Do this shit once more and you’ll fucking witness my real wrath, Leona, now calm down!!”

He fell into her embrace, her hands still on his shoulders but not gripping them firmly. She sighed in relief, gently stroking his hair, and smiled.

Shit, Leona thought, laughing to himself and almost craving her warm touch, grabbing her hand and squeezing it, while dust accumulated in a sedimenting cloud was dissolving around them, so no one could really see him being suddenly vulnerable.

She was dangerous. And maybe he liked it.

… ✦ Azul Ashengrotto ┆touching . . . cheeks ⏤ ✧ How curious! A supposed-to-be-magicless human performing miracles with just a little touch! 

⏤ ✧ He thought of depriving her of Ramshackle dormitory first, but now, after she bewitched Riddle and even Leona? No, he couldn’t miss such an opportunity to take her powers. 

⏤ ✧ He could have everything one might dream of in at the snap of a finger, and a siren’s voice, a ballerina’s gracefulness, a mind of greatest’ scientists ⏤ one harmless contract, and a wish could be granted. 

⏤ ✧ And yet Yuu. Girl from another dimension with that always gloved hands of hers. She was such an interesting person to observe. 

He gathered information, oh sure he did, he already had two opponents down thanks to her, and he couldn’t afford being another one himself.

“How about your neutralizing powers?”

“Ha, you wish, mind dealing with overblots then?” 

Oh, Yuu was amusing, indeed, but Azul just knew he would deprive her of her ability one day. Sooner or later. 

⏤ ✧ Despite rejecting his offer and agreeing to do an extremely ridiculous task instead of having her ability deprived, he would still find her in Mostro Lounge, her fingers on the glass full of drink he personally made, her lips gently pressing to its corners. 

⏤ ✧ A tender smile spreading on her face was quite distracting, which Azul wouldn’t ever admit, his gaze fixed on her delicate hands. 

⏤ ✧ She was captivating and it was scaring him. 

Ah, really, foolish humans, knowing about his past and making fun of his own intelligence. 

He was working so hard, but one magicless girl suddenly got all the attention and appreciation he always wanted just because she could neutralize magic with a touch?

Azul thought he hated her at the moment ink was splashing everywhere, drops of tar scattered in splatterings, falling on her clothes as well as her hands, ungloved this time.

Mind dealing with overblots… right? 

Part of him wished she would just touch him and they would be over it, but still he hesitated when she approached carefully, no signs of fear in her eyes. She was truly magnificent. 

“Let me handle this responsibility, Azul,” she said, pressing her fingers to his cheek and caressing it. A flash of light turned him back to normal state, the only difference was him crying and leaning to her touch, as if starved for it. “And you please remain the way you are.”

And he will.

… ✦ Jamil Viper ┆touching . . . hands

⏤ ✧ That Ramshackle dorm girl having an ability to neutralize others’ magic with just a one touch has become an axioma by now. 

⏤ ✧ Having any problem with the amount of magic used? Or maybe overused? Then no need to worry, NRC now had Yuu to handle all that.

⏤ ✧ He couldn’t care less about her, but still found himself thinking he felt sorry for her. He didn’t wonder how it felt to be the one everyone relies on when it’s hard, but other times forgot you exist. He knew it by heart.

… Huh. Or maybe not?

“You should give yourself more credit, you’re doing excellent. Always remember it,” she said to him one day, her fingers clasping around his wrist reassuringly.

An electrical impulse ran down his whole hand, a sudden warmth spreading in his vessels.

He chuckled, a small knife cut didn’t bother him at all. Why would she say it so unexpectedly thoughtfully to him when she stayed in Scarabia? 

Everything in his plan was perfect, and yet her words distracted him for a moment. He was too preoccupied with his own feelings and conflicted emotions to handle her… care?

⏤ ✧ No way. It was not her ability he secretly admired for being so helpful. It was her shrewdness and the way she saw people through. 

⏤ ✧ Did she feel he was about to do something malicious and not so praise worthy? Otherwise why would she say such things to him? 

⏤ ✧ There was no way she genuinely cared for his well-being.

He couldn’t remember when was the last time his emotions were so tangled and complicated so that he couldn’t sort them out. Snakes aimed right at her hands she was reaching to him weren’t scary, and even the way he smirked when her attempt to touch him failed didn’t cause her to stop. 

A small part of him wanted her words to be true but he knew all the things she said were a mere mendacity to fool him. 

“You’re not someone else’s shadow, Jamil.”

He pushed her hard enough for her to fall on her knees before him. His anger spread in the ink splashing everywhere, but she remained her gaze fixed on him nevertheless.

He thought that maybe… maybe it was worthy to believe her.

He chuckled when he outstretched his hand to be shaken himself, and Yuu smiled at him, taking his hand in her.

… ✦ Vil Schoenheit ┆touching . . . eyelids

⏤ ✧ Good for Yuu she still managed to control her own psyche by dealing with so many splashes of demolished emotions in such a short amount of time.

⏤ ✧ Still, Ramshackle Prefect was complicated to him. Vil genuinely thought there was something wrong with his sudden desire to take care of her.

⏤ ✧ She was close to being perfect by now, despite having those horrible eye bags appeared because of sleepless nights she took helping Azul with arranging new drinks in the menu and all the times Vil caught her excusing herself during their VDC rehearsals in order to check on Leona or Riddle or whoever she kept an eye on after overblotting.

Yuu was wonderful, truly. But instead of appreciating herself she preferred to praise everyone else.

And Vil wasn’t an exception.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she giggled when he bent towards her face to apply a concealer. “A true hero, really.”

Hero?.. He? Ah, Prefect, what were you saying? 

He sighed, taking her hands in his and asking whether he could take off her gloves or not as she nodded, allowing him to apply a hand cream on her skin. What a pleasant feeling…

“Even if you’re a manager, you’re still our representative. No way you would show up on stage with these eye bags of yours. And what did I tell you about having some sleep before VDC? You really…”

She smiled, saying something about having a bad feeling before going to sleep. How truly discerning she was at that very moment. 

⏤ ✧ He couldn’t be a hero, at least her hero, when he chuckled so maliciously at her attempt to reach for him. Now no one could, he was fairest of them all, outshining especially her.  

⏤ ✧ He applied a curse on her which restrained her from touching him ever so slightly, and that would be it until he willingly allowed it. He believed in his strong volition, but still…

“Every hero has their moment when they have a whole world turned against them, Vil,” she said demandingly, almost choking on the dark fog coming off from Vil’s body. “And since when do you act as if you’re such a mediocre character! Where’s Vil who would step on everyone and slay as a fucking queen you really are!!”

He laughed genuinely at her wording, not noticing her getting up from her knees after being blown away with the magic wave he created, and pulled him closer by a translucent veil, pressing a gentle kiss on his eyelids.

“I would prefer cheek instead, thank you,” he chuckled, light sparklets surrounding him. “You ruined my makeup.”

“You also ruined a whole stage, but okay.”

… ✦ Idia Shroud ┆touching . . . forehead

⏤ ✧ The one who Idia wanted to avoid the most was none other than Ramshackle Prefect.

⏤ ✧ All eyes were on her by now, and that meant he would rather die than talk to her.

⏤ ✧ If not only the whole STYX demanded him to get in touch with her in order to get the data regarding her ability, gather info on how her powers work, otherwise she would be taken by force and…

⏤ ✧ He DIDN’T want all of those at all!! She already swept every SSR character off their feet already, and now interacting with him? What the hell!

⏤ ✧ Ugh, not him actually spotting her trying to beat the boss in a PSP game. Where in the world did she find a working PSP even? 

⏤ ✧ Her fingers were clicking furiously on the buttons… those were the hands that dealt with five overblots? Unbelievable.

⏤ ✧ Unbelievably pretty⏤ WHAAH he didn’t want to even think about her that way what the!!

⏤ ✧ Idia was avoiding her like the plague. Even after all things happening at STYX he still preferred to listen to others’ complaints and oh whatsoever important rather than facing her, but his responsibilities came first above everything.

And when he thought it would be hard to convince her to do some tests in order to analyze the data received from them she willingly agreed, smiling at him like it was nothing.

“Okay, but help me with beating that boss later,” she sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. Idia wondered whether her ability was helping her herself. “I’m going crazy right here.”

“U-ugh, f-fine… It’s not even t-that hard tho…”

“It is!” She protested, turning to him and witnessing pinkish hue flaming on his hair. “It’s just you’re too good. I admire you for that.”

⏤ ✧ Nononono he wouldn’t fall into that trap, he already heard enough about her being so unnecessarily nice!!

⏤ ✧ Shit. He fell, and fell hard.

Why would deny her touch when he would make her try doing it at least? He had cool armor, he was floating midair. She couldn’t even hear him properly when Vil appeared before her, covering her with his back and demanding her stay behind. 

It was normal for him to behave that way. Covering himself in a darkness where nobody could reach for him, and yet Yuu could somehow. He jolted for a second when she yelled at him, telling Vil to step aside. 

She still couldn’t touch him. He wanted to believe that no one could, but somehow the image of her fingers clicking on a game console popped up in his mind, causing his heart to skip a beat shamelessly. He was so pathetic and⏤

“I thought you would help me beat the boss, Idia, not me helping you beat the shit out of yourself!!” 

She was insane for asking Epel to take the chariot and fly over to him, then leaning towards him and trying to touch him. She grabbed his armor, hissing under her breaths while he wasn’t getting her actions at all, trying to cover himself from her. From the rest of the world.

“Fine then! If you’re the final boss I should beat, then so be it!”

No, why was her face being so close to his, that’s bad!! 

His mind blew completely after Yuu pressed her lips to his bare forehead and threw him onto the chariot.

“Did I manage? Will you help me now then? Hehe.”

“Sh-shut up!!”

“Make me.”

Note: never ever piss Yuu off again. (Well maybe just a little because she was so hot ahem⏤)

… ✦ Malleus Draconia ┆touching . . . lips

⏤ ✧ Yuu was a rather peculiar child of man. Wielding no magic powers, and yet Malleus felt something in her from the very beginning. 

⏤ ✧ First he observed her when she was busy renovating the Ramshackle garden, she seemed so peaceful and collected, humming something under her breath.

⏤ ✧ He would bring her flowers every night without her noticing only to find her bringing blankets and a container with a hot tea in it and spending a whole night waiting for something… or rather someone to come.

⏤ ✧ “A stranger who brings me bouquets every night, please let me know you’re here. It’s quite cold outside.” She said one night, her gaze fixed on green sparkletts floating around her. 

⏤ ✧ Next day he appeared before her, placing a flower crown he made on her head. Small gypsophila flowers intertwined with scarlet zinnias, decorating her delicate image.

⏤ ✧ “Ah really, why would you appear only now. With such a pleasant gesture even! Wait for a moment then.”

She gathered some flowers she had grown by herself, then took her gloves off and did another flower crown for him personally. Something fluttered in his chest the moment she touched his horns, smiling softly, and laughed with her clear sweet voice, recoiling after decorating his head with a flower crown.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his whole body shuddered at her touch, and in that moment he knew he was close to making a deal with the devil so that the lingering feeling of her fingers would never leave him.

“Would you mind teaching me how to make those? I guess I’m pretty bad…”

He chuckled, admitting he never felt something so pleasant and light before, as if her whole body was radiating something celestial, her hands feeling absolutely pristine and divine.

⏤ ✧ Every night they met she would tell him stories about what happened to her. So many students overblotting, and yet… The way she stuttered for a moment every time she mentioned overblots was confusing to him as if she wasn’t telling something really important. 

⏤ ✧ He wanted to trust her nevertheless. She was tender in the way she looked at him, glimpses of happiness blossoming in her eyes every time he appeared in the garden, welcoming her gently. 

⏤ ✧ He craved her touch, the image of her putting a flower crown on his head still lingered in his mind, never fading nor dissolving, remaining the most precious memory of her.

“You never fail to impress me, child of man,” he said once during VDC right after Vil overblotted and he arrived.

“How come, Tsunotarou?” he laughed at how astonished others were at you calling him by that silly nickname. 

“Witnessing you have no fear towards me is truly a blessing.”

She smiled at him then, her cheeks slightly dusted with a beautiful pinkish hue. 

“Having you as my dearest friend is a blessing too!”

⏤ ✧ Friend…?

⏤ ✧ Right, friend. And what friends are needed for? 

⏤ ✧ Apparently, Malleus thought Yuu would be delighted to see him putting everyone in a sleeping state. If he can’t be someone even dearer to her, then he would be her most devoted guardian.

⏤ ✧ She resembled a fairy, telling him about her tremendous adventures, so it would be natural for him to tell her a fairy tale in return.

“Do not resist the temptation, child of man.”

His voice, so alluring and somnolent, enveloped her, her eyelids feeling leaden. He was standing right in front of her, looking at how her body trembled under his enticing enchantment. He knew by now he shouldn’t touch her, even though her eyes told him otherwise, begging to lean to her.

“Although it would be interesting to fall under your spell and feel that divine feeling, please allow me to grant you with a happy ending you truly deserve.”

“You… never asked me… what kind of ending I truly want…” Her voice was fading, and she could barely stand at that moment, but Malleus knew.

If she takes one step closer, that would be the end for him. 

So she did, thorns enveloping her, but she managed to grab Malleus by his clothes somehow, her face being extremely close to his, his astonished gaze fixed on her, blurry and sorrowful.

“Perhaps a true love kiss would wake you up from this dream, Malleus.”

She pressed her lips to his, tenderly whispering those words and smiling through the kiss when a bright light surrounded them. 

Malleus picked up her exhausted body, oblivious to the dissipation of his own magic, and looked at her worriedly, ignoring the slowly awakening students.

“Ugh… don’t underestimate me. You still haven’t taught me how to make pretty flower crowns.”

And she was right. “Indeed. That’s the least I can do for showing me the ending I truly do adore.”

⏤ ☆ notes : omg thx for requesting!! i got carried away in malleus part (a little bit.... kinda... forgive me for that) but still i hope you like it! ~

⏤ ☆ tag list : @isacoremeow

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[mkmas]

I’m His Cherished Doll (Jude Jazza)

Just in case but MDNI bc it’s quite suggestive. Very sorry some things might be inaccurate and could probably be worded better but I tried my best to match the JP’s nuance (key word tried🥹). Story belongs to CYBIRD ofc.

The crown surrounded me who had became small because of a potion I accidentally took.

(No matter who I choose, it won’t be simple….)

As my eyes were swimming, my gaze met Jude’s who was talking to Roger.

(…Jude doesn’t seem to like small creatures)

(He would step on it, saying he got irritated looking at it)

Jude: What’s with that rude look on your face.

Kate: What are you talking about?

Jude: Don’t play dumb, you’re pissing me off.

Ellis: Kate, would you like Jude to take care of you?

Kate: Eh!?

Jude: Ah? Absolutely not.

Jude: She’s going to cry out loud about how she can’t change back.

Jude: What a pain.

Kate: I-I won’t cry.

Jude: Hn? Is that so.

He looked down at me with a mocking look and I felt frustration rise from the depths of my stomach.

(It’s my fault this situation happened…)

(Whatever the outcome is, I will stand firm.)

Kate: Then please watch over me, I definitely won’t cry.

Jude: ……

Victor: Does that mean you want to ask Jude to take care of you?

Kate: Eh? Ah…….

I hesitated for a moment. I can’t imagine what I will go through.

(But… If I pull back now, it would mean that I’m admitting Jude was right and I don’t like it.)

Kate: …..Yes, I would like to ask Jude.

Jude: Ha………

Jude looked away to a distant place*** in disgust and sighed,

He picked me up by the collar.

Kate: Kyaaaa!?

Jude: It would be better for you to not rage/struggle, princess.

Jude: If you slip and fall, you might accidentally get stepped on, right?

Kate: Hih……

The smaller the size, the more powerful this ruthless villain’s face gets.

Jude: You’re already tearing up. If you want to take back what you said, why don’t you do it now?

I’m sure I will glare back at those amethyst eyes that look down on me.

(…….. I will definitely not lose….!)

—————

Jude left the castle with me picked up.

Kate: Jude, if I’m left hanging like this I would for sure…….!

Jude: You could be targeted by some bad guy or get eaten by a bird.

Kate: Could you please hide me then……?

Jude: There’s no place to hide a creature that won’t crush it.

(…..Well, indeed.)

Jude’s shirt and jacket had no breast pockets,

If he were to put me in the pocket of his pants, I will surely be crushed to death.

Kate: …..How about wrapping me with the palm of your hands…..?

Jude: ………

Jude’s palm gently rolled around my torso.

(Ah………….)

His fingers were so long that it was more than enough to go around my torso,

My instinctive sense of danger rose when I felt slight tightening.

Jude: You know what? You’re so cute I might just crush you.

Kate: …….Nn

Suppressing my fear, I gripped the fingers around my body.

Kate: Sure. Then I will bite your hand and resist.

Jude: ……Tch

Jude clicked his tongue in annoyance and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt with one hand.

Kate: ? What are you doi- Wa!?

Just as I tilted my head back, plop, he threw me into his shirt

Kate: Hey…..!?

When I realized that I had been thrown into the space between Jude’s bare skin and his shirt, my face heated up.

Kate: Wha-What the……. You can just use your hand…….!

Jude: You’re so noisy. I can’t smoke if I hold out my hand.

Kate: But…. This…..

No matter how much my body shrunk, my arms and cheeks were touching his bare body.

The thought of touching Jude’s bare skin made me feel a sense of wickedness.

(I smell the bitterness of cigarettes…… and a sweet smell that scares me a little)

Usually, I can only faintly smell the scent as we pass by each other, but it envelopes my entire body, making my heart flutter uncontrollably.

Jude: ….. By the way, if you try anything naughty, I will crush you through my shirt.

Kate: I would never do that….!

Jude ignored my upset state and calmly walked away.

—————

(Here, the library….?)

Jude pulled me out from his shirt and tossed me onto the sofa set up on the side,

He walked among the bookshelves as if he already knew what he was looking for, and picked up a book that appeared to be it without hesitation and returned.

Jude started to read the book while sitting on the sofa, and I spoke to him softly.

Kate: Today’s work, is it okay if you don’t go……?

Jude: ……….

Kate: ……….. What are you reading?

Jude: ……….

Jude seemed determined to ignore me.

(……. You could just tell me a little.)

I scoot over the sofa and climbed on Jude’s lap.

Jude: …… Oi

(The letters are too big….. And the words are too difficult to understand…. “Plasma Half Life”?)

(Must be a medical journal or something….)

Jude: ……….

The moment I leaned forward between the pages to read the words at the top-

Kate: … Ah!

Suddenly, the book snapped shut and crushed me.

Kate: Wha-what are you doing……!?

Jude: What, I thought it was a bug but it was a talking bug.

The book pops open, and my body that had been sandwiched rolls onto the page.

Kate: Un-Unbelievable………

Jude: How bad of you to climb on top of the book. Apologize to the book.

Kate: That’s……

Kate: ….. Indeed, I may have misbehaved.

(…. I’m the one causing you trouble, but I get mad at you for being a little mean to me.)

(I…. Maybe I’m a little crazy)

This situation we’re in is my fault.

No matter what the outcome is, I’ll stand firm….. I was trying to be strong like that, but the truth is.

(I’m anxious and confused.)

(Perhaps… I was trying to take it all out on Jude)

Kate: ….. I’m sorry, Jude.

Jude: I told you to apologize to the book, not me.

Jude picked me up from the top of the book and tossed me next to him on the sofa.

Jude: Enough. It’s time for the princess to shut up and go to sleep.

Kate: ……. Okay.

Curled up on his knees, Jude started reading again.

The sound of long fingers turning pages, and occasionally the sound of a pen being used to take notes.

Listening to such sounds, I gradually felt sleepy.

Kate: ……. Un.

Suddenly, I woke up to the sound of someone talking.

(Jude….and Ellis….?)

Ellis: I’ve already informed to postpone the meeting that was scheduled today.

Ellis: Also, that buyer came again, this time saying he wanted to have a business meeting and left some samples.

Ellis: And then…

As I gradually start to wake up, various paperwork comes in.

(… I knew it, he still had work to do today…)

Ellis: You didn’t bring Kate around with you, is it because you didn’t want her to get into all sorts of trouble?

Jude: Ah?

Ellis: Jude who is watched by various kinds of people….

Ellis: If they see Kate outside in that state, I don’t know what they’ll do to her.

Jude: ….NO.

Jude: Here, take this to Roger.

Ellis: What’s this?

Jude: A summary of the literature that damn doctor gave me this morning. Just give it to him and he’ll understand.

Ellis: Ah… Did he say he might need it to help Kate change back?

Without answering the question, Jude waved his hand to shoo Ellis away.

By that time, I was already wide awake.

(Ah……)

I felt weight on my body and leaned over to see that Jude’s jacket was draped over me.

(…… Why)

You bully me and try to make me cry, yet you show such kindness when I’m asleep.

My heart tightens as I’m enveloped by the sweet and bitter scent that I have unexpectedly become familiar with.

(Jude’s scent….)

The scent I inhaled made my core hot, as if it had been ignited.

Jude: You’re awake at last, Sleeping Beauty.

Kate: ……

My heart skipped a beat. When I looked up, I saw amethyst eyes staring at me.

Kate: …… Thank you.

Jude: Huh? You must’ve mistaken it for good morning.

Kate: No, I meant……….

Kate: Work…. You took a break from work to do some research for me…..?

Jude: You were eavesdropping, nasty woman.

Jude: I didn’t do it for you. It’s just to get this bad omen/charm over with.

Kate: Still…

Kate: It made me happy.

It was very embarrassing to tell him, so I clutched his jacket tightly.

My face feels hot… and my body feels hot too.

(… It must be the side effects of the drug.)

(I’m sure of it.)

I immediately gave reason to this strange reaction my body gave.

Otherwise, the heat would be uncontrollable.

Jude: … Ha.

Suddenly, Jude’s long fingertips lifted my chin.

Jude: What’s with that face? You’re such a gullible woman.

Kate: …..

My chest tightened and my breath hitched.

Why does my heart beat so loudly even when I’m told such terrible things.

Jude: What, you’re so breathing so hard. You’re aroused.

Kate: …..

Jude: If anything happens to this tiny body, it will break you.

Kate: Ah……

With a poke on my shoulder, I fell into the sea of Jude’s jacket.

His scent grew stronger, and I felt a sweet tingle in the pit of my stomach that made me feel dizzy.

Jude: ……..

As if he could see right through me, Jude’s fingertips firmly pressed on the area just below the navel.

Kate: Uhn, ah……..

My legs jumped and I instinctively squeezed my thighs together.

Jude: …. What, you got turned on from this? You’re really bad huh.

Kate: …..

My heart pulsed violently, and I closed my eyes tightly to cover up the tears that were slowly seeping out-

Kate: ….. Eh!?

Jude: …..!

Like a silk ribbon unraveling, my body smoothly returned to its original state.

Kate: Ah….. I’m back……!? Why…..!?

Jude: The drug must’ve worn off.

Jude: It was either naturally diluted by metabolism or it decomposed.

Jude: Ha-….. Shit, all that research I did was for nothing.

My heart was still racing when Jude clicked his tongue in irritation.

(T-Thank goodness…….)

(I don’t know what would have happened to me if I couldn’t go back-)

Jude: …. So, how long are you gonna stay dressed like that?

Kate: ….. Eh?

(Dressed like that?)

I looked around and saw that the doll clothes I’ve been wearing had fallen to the side of the sofa.

(Huh? I, right now-)

Kate: P-Please don’t look at me!

I quickly got up and put on Jude’s jacket that was under my body.

Jude: Oi, that’s mine.

Kate: C-Can I please borrow it for a moment………

Jude: I don’t like it. You must’ve wet it from earlier. It’s dirty.

Kate: Wet…..!? I-I won’t get it dirty……..

Jude: Oh? Then, let’s see.

Kate: Let’s see….How……?

Jude: Don’t you get it?

Jude put his hands on the sofa and brought his face closer to mine.

I watched his long fingers sink into to the soft sofa, right next to my knee…..

Kate: ………..

I felt a rush of excitement, and I hurriedly pulled the front of his jacket tighter, pressing my thighs together.

Kate: N-No, no………..

Jude: ………..

Jude looked down at me with a cold look and without saying word.

I became conscious of the jacket that was under my bottoms, which made my body hot.

(…. If this keeps up, I’ll really-)

My heart was pounding and I took a deep breath to regulate my breathing.

Jude: …. What are you expecting?

Jude withdrew without revealing the inside of the jacket.

Kate: I-I’m not expecting anything…….

Jude: Liar. You’re getting all teary-eyed because you’re imagining getting it all dirty.

The heat is so palpable that my body stiffened.

Jude: If you get it dirty, you will have to compensate for it, but if you don’t then I’ll let you borrow it.

Kate: C-Compensate…..

Jude: What will it be?

(Compensation, what)

What will he make me do.

I don’t know, but I’m sure it would thicken me up, but not hurt me. Yes I’m sure of it.

If I imagine, my body would probably get even hotter-,

It’s because of the sweet and bitter scent that still haunts me.

The End.

*** They used the idiom: 明後日の方

* It’s 4am there are probably errors I missed

[delvalentine]

BLLK Boys: Their Drunk Persona & Dealing With Them

❥ Headcanons for: H. Chigiri, M. Bachira, R. Itoshi, R. Kunigami, R. Mikage, S. Nagi, Y. Isagi

❥ Notes/Tags: All characters aged up to 20+, gn!reader & pre-established relationship between consenting adults, nicknames & JP honourifics, no spoilers, SFW

❥ WC: Short; ~500 each

❥ CW: direct mentions of alcohol and drinking too much, emetophobia warning

❥ PC: YI ♡ . SN ♡ . MB ♡ . HC ♡ . RI ♡ . RK ♡ . RM ♡

♥ Yoichi Isagi: The Blackout Drunk

❥ Poor Isagi probably gets drank under the table every single time. His competitive nature makes him believe that this is going to be the night where he’ll be able to catch up to the others; alas, despite your dutiful reminders of what happens every time he lets himself get riled up, his Japanese genetics are his own worst enemy. He also forgets how badly his body reacts every time, which doesn’t help you to convince him that he and alcohol are not friends.

❥ He’s a notorious puker, but at least he’s a champ about it and manages to hold it until he gets to an appropriate receptacle. People know to keep a trash can near him. 

❥ His red face/Asian glow is very cute on him. His blush is full-body and he gets really warm really fast. 

❥ He might unwittingly start to think out loud about things he’d usually keep to himself while hunched over the porcelain throne, so whoever’s in there to make sure he’s okay is going to hear the inner workings of Yoichi Isagi—which should make for very interesting commentary. 

“Yoichi-kun, I got you a Pocari Sweat… you okay?” 

Bounding up the stairs to the washroom two at a time, you’re rushing with the bottle tucked under your arm to check on your boyfriend. You told him not to play that drinking game with the others, and look where it got him. He might excel at soccer, but he’s definitely no winner when it comes to holding his liquor. 

“Not enough… need to be… hic… more…”

You slow down at the partially-closed door, hearing him muttering conspiratorially with his head bowed over the toilet. You can still see how red his neck and ears are, even from here, dark locks of hair plastered against his sweaty skin. 

“Yoichi?” you repeat louder to announce your presence, gently knocking the door with your knuckles. He raises his head and blinks at you blearily, dazed. 

“I-I’m fineghk—”

“Not fine.” You sigh, kneeling beside him to brush back the bangs on his forehead as he hurls up whatever’s left in him. He rests his head exhaustedly on a limp elbow, eyes closed, probably to help with the dizziness. “You should try and drink this electrolyte,” you prompt.

“Need to be better,” he mumbles again, like he never even heard you, lost in his own head. “Gotta be better for [Name]…”

At this point, you’re used to his unknowing mumblings. Knowing that he’ll never admit to saying this when sober, you let yourself smile secretively and whisper back into his ear,

“You’re already my number one.”

He cracks a blue eye open, looking shocked. The sweetest smile you’ve ever seen cracks over his blooming face. He won’t remember this, but you’ll just have to keep reminding him once he’s sobered up. 

♥ Seishiro Nagi: The Touch-Starved Drunk

❥ 190 cm of lover boy is going to end up draped around whoever’s close enough (or unfortunate enough) to end up stuck beneath him. 

❥ His sleepy disposition + a couple drinks = immediate snooze town. He’s able to fall asleep literally anywhere, so if you don’t want him conked out on a bench in the middle of nowhere, you better hope you’re strong enough to haul him around. 

❥ He falls asleep on you like a koala hugging a branch to get as much of him touching you as possible. He whines like a baby if you try to wake him up or move him. With a face like that, how could you ever say no?

❥ He craves your warmth and refuses to let you go, even if you’re embarrassed by how openly he’s displaying his affections. He doesn’t care if everybody can see you because they should all know you belong to him, anyways.

He already knows that you’re ticklish, but that doesn’t stop him from burying his face into your neck. White strands of coarse hair make you shudder, and you can feel how cold the tip of his nose is when he presses it into your skin. Some other party-goers shoot you odd looks as he wraps his arms around you possessively, trapping you in your seat.

“Uh, Sei?” you try to reason, panicked, but there’s no use fighting him when he’s three times as strong as you. “Don’t fall asleep yet…

“Sleepy.” It’s all he has to say for himself as he sighs, the warm breath once again making you flinch as it sweeps the baby hairs on your sensitive nape. “You’re comfy….”

“If you fall asleep on me, I won’t be able to get up! You’re too heavy!”

“Where would you want to go without me anyways?” he grumbles, hugging you even more tightly so that air is squeezed out of your lungs. He treats you almost like his personal teddy bear, sighing contentedly as he leans his full weight into you. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay right here. With… m…”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence, falling asleep with his mouth still half open. People are still staring at you for having a giant man wrapped around you on the couch. No matter how much you wriggle, he refuses to let go; and when he stirs, he just holds onto you tighter. You might be more annoyed if he wasn’t so damn cute about it, his face happily content to be holding you.

You decide he’s earned five more minutes of getting his way before you really start to try and shake him off of you. 

♥ Meguru Bachira: The Reckless Drunk

❥ He’s already impulsive enough sober and lacks social anxiety, so he’d be an absolute menace after a few drinks. 

❥ If you do not lay eyes on him at all times, he’s absolutely going to disappear, and you’ll find him doing rooftop parkour or something equally outrageous. He’s a wanderer and is the person that always goes missing with nobody knowing where he went. You’d probably need to strap him into those kiddy backpacks with a leash just to keep track of him.

❥ He would not have the capacity to hold his tongue and would probably accidentally start a couple fights just by making some off-hand comments. 

❥ As much of a handful as he is, there’s reasoning behind it. He’s used to acting out for people to notice him, even if it’s negative attention. He feels like he has to do something crazy because all he wants is for your eyes to be only on him.

“Megu—how the hell did you get up there?!”

It’s freezing cold outside at this hour, but here you are, shivering as you shout up into a tree. Your boyfriend laughs down at you gleefully as if he’s not perched on a branch that looks like it’s one dirty look away from snapping in half. 

“Are ya’ impressed yet, [Name]-cchi?” His words are somewhat slurred, which is ever more worrisome. You can’t let a star athlete break his bones because he fell out of a damn tree. Teeth chattering, you shout up to him again. 

“Come down! Please?”

“Mm… don’t wanna.”

It’s times like these that you remember he will always be a kid at heart, and if you’re going to win, you need to address the child inside of him. You happily wave and turn around. 

“Okay, bye then! Have fun up there!”

“H-hey—wait!” 

He’s quick to jump down from the tree the moment you pretend to walk off, rolling in the sand before bouncing up to his feet. He pouts, stumbling after you. He obviously expected you to yell at him more.

“Gotcha’.” You turn around and quickly wrap your arms around him, squeezing him meaningfully with a stern look. “Seriously, Megu, stop climbing random things. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“It just looked like it’d be fun.”

“Do something crazy like that again and I’m going to die young. Do you want that to happen?” You peer up at his reddened face meaningfully, and he shakes his head fervently. You smile softly to assuage the scared look on his face that he’s made you angry. Then, you realize;

“Where are your pants?!”

♥ Hyoma Chigiri: The Secret Drunk

❥ He would hate going out and would equally hate the drinking culture because it’s so noisy. On the off-occasion that he concedes and indulges, nothing much changes at all; he seems like he’d have a high tolerance and simply doesn’t bother with drinking since it’s bad for your health. 

❥ He’s picky as all hell and would end up critiquing the alcohol like a wine connoisseur, much to the annoyance of the other jocks around him who are just drinking to get drunk. 

❥ He would find the quietest corner in a party setting or hunt down the family pet, preferring to be alone or with you to avoid dealing with everybody else’s mess. 

❥ He probably ends up disappearing halfway through the night, timing his exit with the moment people start to forget about him. 

"Pspspsp... c'mere, kitty-chan..."

"There you are, Hyoma-kun!"

The cat, startled by noise, darts away to retreat even further into the shadows. Chigiri sighs irritably before realizing that it's you, and his expression brightens immediately.

"Hey," he greets quietly, barely audible over the music thumping downstairs. "Sorry I dipped. You looked like you were having a good time catching up with your old friends."

"I know, don't worry." You kneel beside him, offering him your glass. He eyes it judgementally to which you smile wryly. "It's not 150 yen beer, I promise. It's a fruity drink that I like."

"Hm..." 

You always admire how he looks when he's serious. His pink eyes look almost crimson red in this low-light, and the braided hairstyle you helped him with earlier tonight frames his angular face. He sucks his teeth, aerating the drink in his mouth like a professional—as if this also didn't come from a can.

"It's too sweet," he decides, though he's more gentle about it with you than he was to the other guys who tried to pressure him into doing shots of something vile. He passes it back to you with a reassuring smile. "But drink as much as you want."

"I think I'm done, actually. Should we get out of here?"

His eyes light up as if you've told him that he's won the lottery. He grabs your hand and is already immediately hauling you up to your feet.

"The next part of Shingeki no Kyojin came out. I haven't watched it yet because I was waiting for you, but we'll have time if we go now. Did you leave anything? Do you have your coat?"

It's hilarious how excited he is to get home to watch anime, but knowing that he wants you there when he doesn't care for the company of anybody else makes the warm glow on your face fill your heart, too. 

♥ Rin Itoshi: The "Gap Moe" Smiley Drunk

❥ Rin probably would never touch a drink until he’s goaded into it. You’d really have to get under his skin to convince him to put a toxin into his body when his entire life revolves around conditioning himself to be the world’s best striker. But he hates losing even more, so he’d cave pretty easily. 

❥ He’s trained his face to be incredibly stoic and has suppressed his feelings for so long that when he becomes even the slightest bit inebriated, those emotions break past his barrier.

❥ He isn’t even ‘drunk’ and talks/acts with the same blunt unfriendliness as per usual, but he’s stuck with a goofy smile that makes people take him a lot less seriously. People think it’s creepy because he’s locked into a cheerful looking grin until the drinks clear out of his system. 

❥ It’s the only time anybody besides from his partner can catch him smiling so openly. He hates pictures, but nobody would pass up a chance to get a shot of the infamous Puppeteer going “😊”.

"I'm not drunk," Rin snaps at you in a very hostile tone of voice. "Just leave me alone." 

To anybody else, they would've backed off by now. But his entire demeanour is completely negated by the peaceful smile that tugs on his lips. At this point in your relationship you are fully aware that Rin accidentally says things he doesn't really mean; and it seems like that cheap shot of sake did you a favour into revealing his true thoughts. Literally. Even now, he's smiling.

"If you're not drunk, then why do you look like that?"

"I always look like this," he retorts.

You laugh. Openly. You have to, because no way in hell does Rin Itoshi of all people walk around grinning like he's Buddha or something. He looks like he's about to start skipping away, flower petals raining behind him. It's unconscious, you know, but it's still hilarious. He flushes red, brightly, and you're even more delighted to know that you've gotten this crazy egoist to blush all because of you. 

"It's cute," you say (stifling another laugh), patting him on the shoulder. He always begrudgingly lets you have your way with him—you're the only one who's earned this privilege. Rin always takes things too seriously, so you've decided for him that you'll be the one to lift him out of the ruts he digs himself into. 

"It's not," he groans defeatedly, rubbing his eyes with a sigh. "I can't go out there and be seen like this."

"Then let's just stay here for a little while longer." You sit down beside him on the bed, unable to help yourself from smiling back to him even if he isn't meaning to smile at you. "For what it's worth, I really like this look on you. You could stand to smile more."

(You look away before meeting his eyes; then, you would've been able to tell that his gaze softens, and the smile is genuine.)

♥ Rensuke Kunigami: The Competitive-But-Always-Loses Drunk

❥ He’s always going to be super nice, but even after the tiniest bit of alcohol gets into him, he is so. Freaking. L o u d. Like, shouting at the top of his lungs even if you’re sitting right next to him because he thinks he’s talking normally kind of loud.

❥ Would end up trying to arm wrestle anybody he talks to. If they decline, he’ll try to get them to play rock-paper-scissors with him. He’s just super competitive and truly believes he can win even when he can barely walk straight.

❥ He worries a lot about people’s perceptions of him being a mean person, so you suspect that’s why he tries so hard to be extra sociable. He doesn’t seem to realize that people already think of him fondly as an older brother figure. 

❥ As his partner, you often end up bearing the brunt of his series of shouted challenges. Have an abundance of patience, because he cannot stand losing and will continue to beg you to play him until he wins one. 

"Wh—why am I going backwards? TURN AROUND! TURN AROUND MUSHROOM BOY!"

"His name is Toad—"

"I FELL OFF?! HOW AM I IN LAST PLACE? NO WAY! THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

"Ren, you're holding the controller upside down..."

"NO!" he protests, shaking you off when you try to reach over to help. "I got this! I... YOU WON FIRST PLACE ALREADY?! HOW?"

You ignore all the heads that turn to track the source of the noise. Kunigami is still driving poor Toad off the road, too drunk to comprehend that the controller detects his full-body leaning—and that, it is still in fact, upside down in his too-large hands. It's too funny not to laugh, even if you do pity him somewhat for earning yet another DNF in last place for what might be the eleventh time in a row.

"Rematch!" Kunigami grumbles, whipping his head to look at you. "What kind of MAN am I if I can't even win this stupid.. Ma... Marine Camp game?"

"It's called 'Mario Kart'. Marine Camp?"

"Whatever! REMATCH!" He's already spamming buttons on his (still upside down) controller. "You said... if I won, I'd get to pick your outfit... 'n I have to take that seriously! It’s on my pride!”

You feel yourself become bashful; you had said that passingly, but only because you thought he was too drunk to remember. Kunigami looks at you pointedly again, face so red it just about blends in with his orange hair. 

"C'mon, rematch!"

"Okay, okay... but only if you let me help you fix your controller first!”

♥ Reo Mikage: The Sloppy/Weepy Drunk

❥ Two words: absolute. Crybaby. So many tears. 

❥ Don’t expect cute sniffling or anything either. It’s the full ugly cry: dripping snot, wailing, whining, etc. Reo is complete waterworks by drink two. 

❥ He likes to talk big about revenge and all that, but in the end he simply never learnt how to cope with his emotions, so alcohol just sets him off even more. He is incredibly easy to make fun of in this state because he’ll just start to cry even harder, so you definitely need to usher him into a private room or something. 

❥ He’ll start crying about things that happened years ago, like how embarrassing it was to rip his pants in elementary school; then he’ll start to complain about Nagi and cry harder, even if Nagi’s not even around; then he’ll cry about how cute you are and that you don’t love him as much as he loves you (no matter what you say to console him). 

"There, there..."

"A-and then... he s-s-said... ugh—said "So, wh—cough—wh—"

"You have to breathe, Reo."

"I'm trying!"

With a small sigh, you end up wiping tears off Reo's cheeks with the same tissue he refuses to take from your hand. You lost track of him during the party, and in that short amount of time he had already managed to slosh down one too many drinks. You're still shocked that he'd subject himself to drinking when he ends up crying his eyes out in front of everybody every single time he does. For somebody so preoccupied with reputation, he's excellent at tanking his own. He's lucky you managed to excuse him before he started to weep in front of somebody of corporate import... or somebody malicious enough to take the scene to the internet. 

"You probably hate me too, s-s-seeing me like this..." 

"I don't hate you, Reo. If I did, I wouldn't be taking care of you."

"Everybody hates me!" he wails miserably, another fresh set of tears welling in his violet eyes, spilling down his face. You have to say; he spends so much time fronting with a media-trained smile or brooding with a deep scowl that it's somewhat of a relief to see him actually vent his feelings out. He's vulnerable like this, and it shows his undying trust in you. 

"What if I said I liked you a lot?"

“Y-you—you do?" His eyes widen past the tears, doe-eyed and cute with eagerness, but he's sporting a shiny snot bubble now. You know you’re in real deep to be able to say this to a face like that:

"I do."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

“The updates are making me like Idia more, but in the same way you'd like a character for being pathetic” I’m shocked you didn’t like Idia at least from what I remember? He’s basically the same as Rollo (a character you do like I think) and in more ways than one. They’re both gloomy looking guys and traumatized big bros that are self righteous and pathetic. What kept you from liking Idia before if you don’t mind me asking?

[Referencing something I said in this post!]

Okay, confession time: when I was a little kid (I’m talking like 7-10 years old), I was SUPER into Greek mythology and more specifically the story of Hades and Persephone. I ate up ALL the Hades and Persephone retellings/reinterpretations I could find and actively hunted for more 💀 so you’d think I’d like Idia, who is twisted from Hades, given how I gravitated to Octavinelle because of my attachment to The Little Mermaid in my childhood…

I think what puts me off of Idia in spite of his similarities to Rollo, a character I do really love, is a combination of Idia's appearance and his attitude.

To tackle the shallower aspect first, I actually don't like characters that look "too" gloomy. I would say Rollo is stoic-looking, but not gloomy? He has a pretty neutral face most of the time and the only gloomy thing about him at a glance is the dark circles under his eyes. With Idia... There's a LOT going on here. The hair is definitely unique, but I've never been into super long hair. The nature of it kind of overshadows his face and Idia usually looks miserable as a default. I've mentioned before that I'm unnerved by his coloration too; the super pale skin plus the blue lips is reminiscent of a corpse and, well... while I do see there being an audience that finds him beautiful, I don't think that's a cute look for him.

Now, his attitude. I'm not going to fault Idia for being passionate about his hobbies, as we all have our niches that we're super into. What irks me is how Idia expresses himself and acts out on behalf of those interests. He talks down to people who "don't get it" and takes other measures to defend the things he likes that I think is crossing a line. For example, he tracks down the IP addresses of Ignihyde mob students that defaced his favorite idol group's website. In the EN version, Idia threatens to doxx the mobs too (though he never does, this was just a localization decision). Yeah, you could do that I guess... but should you? 😭 The other characters also do questionable things (as a J word fan, I cannot deny this) but those actions are usually so outlandish no one irl would do it (like how Azul is a high school student that runs his own shady business). Idia's behavior, meanwhile, embodies some very real and very toxic aspects of fandom culture. I think part of why I disliked Idia at first is also his manner of speaking; it's riddled with so much internet lingo that it's hard to take him seriously sometimes. This is even more true of the EN version of the game, which has added even more slang than was in JP. Like... sorry, am I NOT supposed to be giggling when OB Idia is making threats while talking like an enraged gamer (both in EN and JP)? There is a ceiling on how much pathetic I can take in one sitting, and Idia far exceeds it every time he talks. Other characters (like Rollo making cheesy villain speeches, Azul being teased, Jamil's DOKKAN, etc.) have their moments of funny ha ha-cringe as well, but at least I can still see them in a serious light.

Books 6 and 7 are enhancing my opinion of Idia solely because they focus on the "traumatized big brother" part to his character. In Glorious Masquerade too... Idia gets the courage to call Rollo out because he knows their experiences are so similar. I think the storyline was done very well, and I loved seeing how Idia grows from an event that no doubt affected him deeply and still continues to influence him to this day. It's clear that he cares deeply about both Orthos and will step up to protect them. I LOVE THAT FOR HIM, it's not as though Idia is completely throwing aside one brother for the other, he's acknowledging them both as his "true" brothers. The way he goes from laughing to crying in his post-OB flashback... Idia getting so mad at us attacking Phantom Ortho with lightning... the willingness to "go" with OG!Ortho to the world beyond... apologizing to Robo!Ortho for falling for the dream's promises of eternal happiness... Aaaah, it's just too good 😭

DIHLBASOFYIAYVYEBfsWPYWPF WHAT CAN I SAY... I like me a reliable onii-san character 🤡 I'M NOTHING IF NOT PREDICTABLE

[milkyaa-krystal]

Rafayel Love and Deepspace

Rafayel's paintings always leave a profound impression on people. Most of his paintings are centered on Lemuria, a civilization conceived by the oceans. His art style is like an inferno—passionate and fiery. He has a unique and particular approach to his work and a distinctive viewpoint on art. It's said that he makes his own paints and must find a color he likes before he begins painting. He set up Mo Art Studio in Whitesand Bay. It's his private art studio in Linkon City.

𓆩♡𓆪 Appearance: Rafayel is a tall young man with dusky purple hair, blue/pink eyes, and fair skin. He is typically seen wearing a white shirt and white or dark pants.

𓆩♡𓆪 About Him: Age: 24 - Height: 6 ft 183 cm - Birthday: March 6th - Sign: Pisces -Job: Artist - Evol: Fire - Workplace: Mo Art Studio

𓆩♡𓆪 Name Variations: CN: Qi Yu (祁煜) - JP: Homura (ホムラ) - KR: Ki Wook (기욱)

Word from Milkyaa Krystal:

♡  He reacts a lot like a child, I call him the king to sulk but it’s part of his charm. We feel that he is afraid of abandonment and it makes you want to take care of him when Mr. frowns, it makes me crack even more and attention behind his appearance to play the child when he becomes serious... I crack even more. (♡˙︶˙♡)

[capricorn-writer-kawaii]

My Flame Hero

Chapter 1

Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Enji Todoroki X Reader, ⚠️smut⚠️, fluff, angst, age difference, divorced Endeavor, ⚠️anime spoilers⚠️

Words: 3k

Summary: Your relationship with your boss, the flame hero, started on a wild night in the hot springs. Time continues passing and you two seem closer than ever.

A/N: Hello again! As you know, I love this idea of how Enji Todoroki's life has changed after all his character development. This time, I was thinking about how society and his kids would react when knowing he's starting a new relationship. Once again, I must thank @merrymonkey for creating the art. ❤️

🔥Clic here to read the first part of the story🔥

Chapter 1

Sitting next to All Might, Endeavor crossed his giant arms and frowned at the screen in front of him. It was playing scenes of both his and the blonde's most epic battles. Everyone in the audience praised and people from the media kept taking pictures.

"Come on, Todoroki, change that face!" said All Might laughing and hugging him.

“Get off! I hate this, it makes me feel old. Why the hell did they have to do a whole anniversary celebration?"

"Stop whining! When you accepted the position, this was included. Hey, look! A picture of the day you opened your agency. And there I am!"

Enji frowned even more when he saw himself young, with much more energy and without that scar on his face that he hated so much. Now that he was getting closer to his 50s, he looked so different. He was about to go down that spiral of thoughts concerning his age when he felt how an elbow hit him in the ribs. Turning around, he discovered that it was his youngest son.

“Dad, try to smile. You look more terrifying than usual."

Forced to soften his expression, Enji kept looking at the tribute they had made for him and All Might. It was supposed to be something small, his agency had only received an invitation for the inauguration of a new school dedicated to the two legendary heroes. He tried not to attend and for his son to go in his place, but your insistence and Shoto's forced him to show up.

Upon arrival, Enji cursed when he noticed some politicians and reporters there. He was already close to dealing with all of them during the Hero Billboard Chart JP of that year, but now, he would have to do it before. He missed when he didn't have to worry about those events and it was All Might who had to give the speeches.

"I shouldn't be here looking at pictures of me, I should be working." He commented to his son in a low voice.

“Relax, you left your trusted heroes in charge of the agency for today. Midoriya and Bakugo are there too, nothing will happen if you're away for a while."

“Last time I wasn't in the office, you and your friends destroyed two buildings for not being careful, Shoto. I ended up paying for those damn reconstructions out of my own pocket.”

"It wasn't my fault, Bakugo got out of hand because of Midoriya's comment and then we couldn't calm him down." Shoto clarified, very embarrassed by that accident. "Besides, that won't happen today, you left your girlfriend in charge of those two, right?"

Endeavor sighed remembering how permissive you were with those boys, and if it was Hawks, the matter was worse. However, the number 1 hero couldn't continue the conversation, since at that moment they had shown the photograph of the day he fought against the Nomu. It was epic and memorable, there was no one who did not know that photograph. Yet, that day the hero could not do more than look at his face covered in blood from the tremendous wound he had received. Stealthily, he brought his hand to his face and as soon as he felt that area where his skin felt different, he immediately removed his hand.

Back at the agency, Enji and Shoto entered together and as usual, wherever they passed, people greeted them by bowing their heads showing respect. Apparently, it was a normal day, many of the heroes were in the office that day and not on patrol. Among them, Shoto noticed his friends, who were miraculously talking like civilized people while having some tea.

While Bakugo and Deku greeted your boyfriend, you and Hawks were also getting closer.

“Congratulations, big boss! Looking good, huh, old man?”

Hawks touched a nerve in his head calling him that, causing Endeavor to glare at him and Midoriya to swallow hard at the same time that Bakugo laughed, nothing made him more amused than seeing the flame hero upset.

"Don't tell me you were watching the broadcast, you must have been working," Enji scolded.

“The guys took care of everything quickly and we had the rest of the afternoon free.” You clarified with a discreet smile, although Shoto and Hawks knew about you, the others had no idea.

That easily you managed to lower the bad mood of the hero, who nodded silently.

"Okay, since we're finishing early today, how about we all go for a beer?" Hawks proposed.

“And since it's early we can go to karaoke! What do you say, Kacchan, do you want to go?" Deku asked so excited that his eyes were shining, of course, he only made Bakugo look at him with contempt and growl. “Todoroki, do you want to come with us? Let's call the others, I'm sure they'll want to go!”

"Wait a moment! What do you mean to go for a beer?" Endeavor asked, getting upset again. “Hawks, what the hell's on your mind? They are children!"

“They aren't children, they're already adults. In just a couple of months, these guys will graduate from the U.A. In fact, why don't you join us, Endeavor? If there's anyone here who can teach them to drink, it's you."

You couldn't help but laugh at Hawks' inappropriate comment. On numerous occasions the three of you had gone drinking, Best Jeanist had also accompanied you, as well as Mirko, who drank more than all the pro heroes put together. Nevertheless, Endeavor had never gone out with the young boys to drink.

"Nobody has to teach me how to drink, nobody has to teach me anything!" Bakugo exclaimed.

"Come on, Endeavor, you don't have anything to do either, we already checked your schedule." Hawks insisted.

"What's happening Dad? Do you have so little resistance to alcohol that you prefer not to go?”

“Careful, Shoto! You shouldn't even be drinking if you're preparing to be…”

“Here we go again…” You whispered in Hawks's ear and even yawned, you already knew Enji was coming up with a speech for his son. A speech that only Deku listened carefully.

Enji spoke until you discreetly placed your hand on his shoulder. Anyone would think that you did it to get closer to the boys, but your boyfriend knew that you did it so that he would leave Shoto alone.

“What do they say if you call your friends and we meet at the entrance?” You asked winking at the three boys, whose cheeks turned red, for none of them could deny that you were gorgeous.

Everyone at the agency said it, Enji Todoroki's right hand was spectacular, and just as you had caught the attention of your boss with your personality and with your sexy costume, you had also done it with practically all the men who worked there. However, seeing the idiotic smile of the four of them, Endeavor raised his flames higher and brought them back to the ground.

“If you're done, get out of here. And you, Miss Plans," he said directing his turquoise eyes at you. “May I have a word with you in my office?”

Following your boss, you disappeared with him while Hawks was in charge of taking the boys out, he was sure that Endeavor wouldn't let you leave just like that, Shoto himself knew it.

Once in the privacy of Enji's office, as soon as he closed the door, you walked over to his desk and sat there, laughing at the frown of your man.

"Why are you so grumpy today?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He responded by opening a couple of buttons on his shirt to make himself more comfortable.

"Honey" you called crossing your legs, and when he looked up and fixed his gaze on you, he finally flashed his first honest smile of the day, a little lustful, but honest. "You really don't want to go?"

The handsome hero had cornered you by bringing both hands to his desk, barely encircling your hip, and not letting you move. Then, fixing you with that look that had made countless villains tremble, he shook his head.

"Why would I want to go drinking with some kids if I can do it with you?"

Biting your lips, you began to feel Enji's hands opening your legs a little more and his lips getting closer and closer to your neck until, without warning, he bit you and then began to lick and suck, first slowly, but then with more intensity. You wanted to keep talking to him, but it was practically impossible when he was distracting you like that, and when you could perceive his manly scent so close, you had always loved how he smelled, it was one of the first things that made you lose your head for him.

The burning heat that emanated from your boyfriend every time you were together abruptly subsided, just as his kissing stopped. It was enough for you to hear how his breathing changed to know that he had gotten upset, but you didn't understand what had made him so angry until they knocked on the door a second time.

"WHAT?!" The redhead roared with a tone of voice that made the entire office rumble.

"Enji!" Very embarrassed for not knowing who was outside, you patted him on the chest before getting off the desk and adjusting your clothes a bit. "Stop responding like that."

"The door is locked, that means I don't want anyone to come in!" He also fixed his clothes and walked to the chair, he had to sit down or his erection would give away what you were about to do.

"Hey, boss, it's me!"

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Endeavor cursed, slamming his fist into the desk.

Aware that Enji couldn't open, you did it yourself. Hawks entered the office with his eyes closed, which caused you to laugh but the flame hero wanted to burn him right there.

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be on your way to who knows where?"

“The guys are asking about your girlfriend. How do you want me to explain to them that she's not there because you're fucking her brain out?" The next thing Hawks felt didn't even come from Enji, but from you when you hit him hard on the head, causing the redhead to grin from ear to ear.

"Why didn't you just say we had a meeting?"

“Midoriya has the innocence of a baby, but your son and Bakugo don't. They were with us all day, they know there was nothing to talk about.”

"Hawks is right." You said with a sigh, after all, you had waited all day to be alone with Enji. "I'll go with them for a while and see you at home later."

"What?!" With Endeavor's exasperated question came a shout from Hawks covering his eyes again and yelling at the two of them to make him see such things. "You’re not leaving! You're with me!"

"I won't be long, I promise you." You said completely ignoring all the drama that Hawks was making for having to witness his boss's huge boner.

Finally, you managed to convince Enji that it would be best not to arouse suspicion, and although you knew that he had been furious, resentful, and wallowing in jealousy, you went out with them.

Late at night, Enji was in your new apartment. Although you told him that it was not necessary, there was no way he would change his mind, he wanted to buy a place for you two. As expected, the hero spared no expense, as he wanted a place that was comfortable and private enough that no one would disturb you. Thus, while he waited for you to arrive, he read the reports of the last jobs he had done. He had a hard time focusing, at first, he thought he was tired and that's why he couldn't read well. He even cursed the one who had written those reports in such small letter size. In fact, he was doing just that when you greeted him from the door of his office.

"Are you fighting alone, handsome?" You asked hiding a mocking smile; however, your face changed when you noticed how your boyfriend was dressed. It drove you crazy to see him in those traditional and comfortable clothes he used at home.

“Tomorrow that secretary will listen to me. I already told her to stop printing like this! You can't read anything.” Exasperated, he handed you the papers.

"I think the problem's not your secretary, it's that you need glasses, dear."

“I don't need glasses! My eyesight has always been the best of all!”

"Enji, if you keep freaking out and throwing flames around you, one day you won't be able to see properly."

"I can see well! I don't need glasses." The flame hero looked at you seriously and crossed his arms. “Did you see the hour, kid? It was supposed to be fast. I dined alone.” You didn't even try to hide your smile, no one would believe you if you said how spoiled Enji Todoroki was and how much he hated being away from you.

Fortunately, it wasn't hard for you to apologize, because as soon as you proposed to take a bath together, you won him back.

One of your favorite parts of the new apartment was the outdoor jacuzzi. Being in such a remote area, you could enjoy the tranquility of the night and take a bath while you admired the city lights.

Sitting on Enji's lap, you massaged his wide and sturdy shoulders. You could tell he was tense, which wasn't easy to identify considering every muscle in his body was rock solid; however, his body language told you that something was up with him.

"You didn't like the tribute they gave you, right?" Your question caused Enji to open his eyes again, he had been enjoying your hands, but the memory of the afternoon clouded his gaze. "I know you don't like those kinds of activities, but I didn't expect this to bother you so much."

“It wasn't the activity. I just felt like it had been a long time since I started on this. I've worked so hard, kid, I don't realize how quickly the years have gone by.

"Nostalgic, huh?"

With his typical smile that made every part of your body vibrate, Enji nodded.

“I think I'm spending too much time with Toshinori. Anyway… now that I remember, Hawks interrupted us earlier.”

And just like that, your boyfriend was back, that scorching look giving him away that he had thought about you all day and that now having you close, he didn't care about anything other than causing you pleasure.

"Kid..." he called, attacking your neck again but this time he didn't show the slightest delicacy, he bit you so hard that you couldn't silence a moan. “What did I tell you about your smiles? You keep showing them to everyone like it's nothing, like they're not mine."

It was inevitable for Endeavor to heat the atmosphere when he got aroused, you'd already gotten used to ending up drenched in sweat every time you made love to your boyfriend. So once the water got hotter, you knew he was ready to make you scream.

Sex with Enji was still as hot and passionate as the first time in the hot springs, just as aggressive. It seemed that you were his prey and that he was ready to jump on you at any moment. The flames that emanated from his body and his penetrating gaze warned you to be prepared, but above all, the enormous erection that you found in your boyfriend every day did so. There were nights when you didn't sleep at all because Endeavor simply couldn't stop fucking, you and everything seemed to indicate that that would be one, because although you didn't know, he wanted to show you and himself that the others were wrong, he hadn't aged yet.

Unlike all those nights in which you allowed him to tempt you until you begged him to enter your body, this time you could only dig your nails into his manly back. Enji waited for absolutely nothing to penetrate you; after all, he knew that once by his side, you were always ready to receive him.

The redhead moaned in pleasure feeling how tight you were. Sometimes he was so cruel that to provoke you, he would just put in the tip of his cock and not move for a few seconds. He tempted you by letting you feel his body throbbing inside you, he made you want to lose control of his hips, but he didn't, he just looked at you with an evil smile.

“I hate you so much…”

Your comment made him laugh exactly the same way he did when he cornered a villain. Of course, hearing his laughter at that moment could only turn you on more, but when you tried to move, he didn't let you, he held your legs very tightly, a little more and his hands would be marked on your thighs by days. However, you were just as stubborn as he was, and you kept trying to move. That little fight to see which one had more power made the moment even more erotic. Endeavor was dying to fuck, but he was so proud and he liked to dominate you so much that he would put you in your place first.

"Who do you think you're dealing with, kid?" He asked you, frowning and sounding somewhat offended, even annoyed.

"Let go of me" You commanded, but instead, you only managed to get him to hold you tighter and to show you that he was doing what he wanted. Endeavor moved a little, just a little, but it was enough for you to bite your lips so as not to scream at how good it felt.

Delighted that you were the one he shared his nights with, Endeavor looked at you with a mixture of charm and anger. You continued refusing to obey him and, as cunning as ever, you activated your quirk, one that put him at a disadvantage. As long as you were in physical contact with your opponent, you could mind control him to do whatever you wanted. Just as you could increase the capacity of any quirk with a single command, you could disarm him.

"You're not gonna make it." He warned you when he heard your voice in his mind.

However, Endeavor had chosen you as his sidekick with good reason, and even someone like him with the strong willpower he had, fell when he faced you. Your order was not for him to release you, but to move his hips. If Enji wanted to break free of your spell, he had to let go of your legs, and get away from you, and it was something you knew he wouldn't do for the world. Furious, but even more excited than before seeing how strong you were, he kissed you passionately. Without knowing if he did it to distract you or not, you just received him with the same ardor.

The kiss ended, but you didn't deactivate your quirk, if Endeavor didn't let you use your legs, you could still use other parts of your body. That was how you managed to break his will. Enji growled from the fury he felt seeing that he was not capable of ignoring your orders, and you chuckled feeling how he kept fighting. The more he fought, the more passionately you now devoured his neck. Normally you marked it where the costume hid, but that night you didn't care, Enji had played too much with you. The hero realized what you were doing, where you were leaving obvious marks, but far from being annoyed, he got even more aroused thinking about how cheeky, stubborn, and possessive you could be.

Thus, after a while Enji's huge hands left your legs, but only for one of them to hold you by your hair, he could feel your neck with his fingers.

“You have no idea what you got yourself into.” He said holding you tight.

“Why don't you teach me, number one? What's wrong, a few orders were enough to break you down?"

The heat that came out of Enji's body upon hearing that would have driven anyone else away, but you were used to it, you could take it now. Your boyfriend had been upset, you knew he couldn't stand being provoked, he was too proud to ignore something like that. You had gotten yourself into trouble, but one you could never regret.

Endeavor didn't stop all night, he didn't care that you trembled from so much pleasure, or that you asked him for some time, he kept fucking you until your voice didn't come out. That night you didn't see the slightest trace of tenderness in his movements. Countless times you thought that your body would give no more, but Enji knew your limits and calculated to just reach them but not pass them, not because he had compassion, but because he was not going to let you save yourself so easily.

After having been in the jacuzzi for a long time, he took you to bed. You bit the pillows, you soaked the sheets and Enji didn't stop, he kept going in and out of your body as if it was the first time he was tasting you. Endeavor was the only one capable of reaching parts of your body that only he knew about, points that caused you so much pleasure that he even managed to bring you to tears.

He had you on your back holding on to your hips for so long that now it wasn't just your legs, your hips would also have his huge hands marked for who knows how long. You felt how the sweat that fell from his chest drenched your back, and it seemed so provocative to you that you had orgasms just for feeling that, for hearing his growls in your ears, and for feeling his burning breath on the back of your neck.

And not to mention your poor knees, because Enji indulged himself in that position, in which he only let you use the muscles of your legs because he held you behind the wrists. The hero was willing to remove any trace of sanity or purity that remained in you. That was how Enji came over and over again that night. He did it whenever he wanted, on your face, on your breasts, on your mouth, on your back, legs, inside you, You couldn't be more full of him, literally.

You don't remember when you fell asleep, exhausted from so much physical activity. The next morning when you opened your eyes, you wanted to die right there, everything hurt, you could swear that even your hair hurt. There was no way you were working that day, luckily it was Saturday.

Enji didn't wake up early either, that day the handsome hero slept by your side until almost noon, something that rarely happened; however, his body also needed rest, never like yours, of course. The night had been so wild that as soon as you opened your eyes, you saw how hurt his back and shoulders were. You tried to get up, but you couldn't and your moaning automatically woke up your boyfriend.

"Hi, kid." He greeted with a hoarse voice, but with a sweet smile, while, stretching out his arm, he brought you closer to his huge body.

"I can't move" you muttered.

"Perfect, that's what I wanted to hear."

"You, idiot" You responded trying to push him, but you couldn't even move an arm. Laughing heartily, Endeavor took your hand and kissed it before placing it on top of his pecs. "I'm serious. I think you broke me.”

"I can fix you back, baby, that's not a problem." Before you could answer anything, the redhead kissed your forehead and then stared at your face. “How can you be this stunning?”

"Oh please! I'm a mess.”

"You're MY mess, my beautiful and sweet mess."

You smiled back, barely able to caress his cheek. A short time later, he got up, and if you had been able, you would have stopped him, but you couldn't, everything hurt.

"I'll be right back, I'll go get something to eat."

"Enji" you called as he was almost out the door and as soon as he turned around, you spoke again. "I love you."

From where you were you could see how the hero's cheeks blushed a little.

"I love you too, kid." He said before disappearing with a smile.

After a while, you had breakfast in the comfort of your bed next to Enji. Despite what anyone would think, your boyfriend knew how to cook and when he had time, he would prepare delicious meals for you. The truth was that the number 1 hero treated you like a queen, he pampered you a lot, more than you could believe yourself. He always made sure you had your favorite foods at home; in fact, he had started doing the groceries himself, something that still surprised you, but later you discovered that it was because he wanted to make sure that you had everything you liked so that you felt comfortable and began to see that apartment as your home. Enji had tried hard to make it that way, he even hired a decorator and as a surprise to you, he wanted the apartment to have your essence. Curiously, you didn't have such different likes. Maybe Endeavor was a bit more traditional, but he liked the touch you gave not only to the apartment but to his life as well.

Enji also wanted you to have your clothes there, and even though you told him it wasn't necessary, he kept bringing you different designer pieces very often. You loved everything, but you had to confess that you loved even more his clothes. You kept wearing his t-shirts when we allowed you, for most of the time you were naked on the bed.

While you ate, Enji smirked. Every so often he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, he loved seeing you wearing his clothes, and that morning was no exception. However, even with his huge t-shirt, he could see all the marks he had left on you from the night before. That was how he carefully caressed the part of your thigh where the mark of his hand had been printed.

"I think I went too far, love, sorry."

"Why? You know I love it when you do it." You responded by winking at him.

Having regained a bit of energy after eating something, you reached over to kiss his cheek, but when you did, your eye was caught by a silver hair among the ones that covered his beard. You also noticed that there were also a few among his red hair.

"What's wrong, what do I have?" Enji asked when he noticed that you were staring at him. You delicately took one of those hairs, it had just fallen off and you were able to show it to him. However, what you considered to be incredibly attractive, Enji did not.

"Shit," he hissed.

You spent so much time making love to Endeavor that you knew his body perfectly well, so you were surprised not to notice that even on his chest there were a few silver hairs. Or surely you had noticed it but you hadn't thought too much about it, you already liked your boyfriend too much, you found everything about him attractive. The mood swing lasted all day, Enji was serious and grumpy, but at least that didn't stop the hero from coddling you for leaving you so exhausted.

🔥To be continued...🔥