#Pablo González

[beautiful-basque-country]

Polish Justice extends for the sixth time the provisional detention of Basque journalist Pablo González

A few days after journalist Pablo González completed a year and a half in prison in Poland, the appeals court handling the case has decided to extend the reporter's preventive arrest to which he has been subjected since he was arrested on February 28, 2022, a few days after the invasion of Ukraine began.

Now, Pablo González's defense may appeal the decision, although no changes are expected.

Pablo González was arrested by agents of the Agency for Internal Security (ABW) on February 28, 2022 in the town of Przemyśl, on the Polish border with Ukraine, when he was covering the humanitarian crisis after the Russian invasion of Ukraine for online newspaper Público and other media. Polish authorities then accused the journalist of spying for Russia.

Since then, despite the fact that no evidence against him has emerged, the Polish courts have been prolonging the reporter's preventive detention over and over again at each assessment hearing of the case. In fact, this is the sixth time.

Both Pablo González's defense and his family have been demanding since the beginning of the case that the journalist's rights be respected and that he has a fair trial as soon as possible. Oihana Goiriena, mother of his three children, recently denounced in a statement that one of the things that most concerned the reporter - apart from not being able to communicate with his children - was that a specific accusation against him was not yet put on the table.

Pablo González will continue in prison sine die while waiting for a date to be set for his trial.

Source

Shame on the Polish Justice system, quite honestly. Human rights who?

[elkoko]

En el #díamundialdelperiodista recordar que Pablo González sigue encarcelado en Polonia de forma preventiva sin que se hayan presentado de manera pública pruebas contra él. #FreePablo #pablogonzálezlibertad

Ni el gobierno de España ni la unión europea hacen nada. #journalistday

[ferranhumor]

DAILY BOOMER, 5 julio 2023

[brunojordanposts]

Muy burdo, pero fueron con ello

Por Helena Villar Periodista y corresponsal de Russia Today en Estados Unidos. Desmontando el macartismo en La Sexta     En un contexto de pérdida de credibilidad de los medios tradicionales serviles al poder, aparecen experimentos televisivos que apuestan por aplicar técnicas agresivas de caza al disidente. Uno de ellos es el programa ‘Conspiranoicos’ que, pese a ser un fracaso en audiencia,…

[elmartillosinmetre]

Breviario de directores

[El director rumano Sergiu Celibidache (1912-1996) es el más ampliamente tratado del libro. / D.S.]

La editorial Fórcola publica un estudio sobre la evolución de la dirección de orquesta

Dos críticos bien conocidos de la prensa musical española, Rafael Ortega Basagoiti y Enrique Pérez Adrián, habituales de la revista Scherzo desde hace décadas, acaban de publicar en la editorial madrileña Fórcola un volumen en que radiografían el oficio de director de orquesta. En quince capítulos y un ep��logo, en este libro se hace repaso a una amplísima nómina de maestros, desde Weber, Berlioz y Mendelssohn a los nacidos después de 1980, mediante un somero repaso a sus carreras y sus tendencias estéticas.

Tuve la oportunidad de hablar con Rafael Ortega Basagoiti (Madrid, 1957) sobre este trabajo, del que no hay antecedentes en la bibliografía española.

–Se trata de un libro a dos, pero en él se encuentran muchas valoraciones, muchos juicios. ¿Cómo lo plantearon?

–Lo contamos en las consideraciones previas, se trataba de respetar lo que ha escrito el otro. Los capítulos están en general muy repartidos de manera casi íntegra, hay pocos en los que hayamos metido mano los dos, y además cuando lo hemos hecho cada uno se ha dedicado a una figura distinta. Por supuesto cada uno tiene su visión y no siempre coincidimos, pero asumimos los criterios del otro, porque tampoco se trataba de establecer un debate entre nosotros. 

–¿Podemos ver la historia de la dirección de orquesta como un eterno Toscanini vs Furtwängler, es decir, objetivismo frente a subjetividad o se trata de una simplificación excesiva?

–Yo creo que es simplificar demasiado. Hay una parte de eso que efectivamente se mantiene en cierto modo. Pero no afecta sólo a la dirección de orquesta, sino a la interpretación musical en general: hay una parte de los intérpretes que se decanta por lo analítico y racional y otra parte que lo hace por lo intuitivo y emocional. Lo vemos sobre todo en la música anterior a Wagner: la tendencia historicista rompe con una manera de dirigir ese repertorio muy furtwängleriana y retrocede, no a lo Toscanini, pero sí a unas maneras desprovistas de la parte poswagneriana. Pero en el caso de la dirección hay otros componentes. Las orquestas han evolucionado a grupos que están mucho mejor organizados y preparados profesionalmente, los directores también, pero han tenido que cambiar sus formas. El mundo ya no es el mismo, ya no hay posibilidad de ensayos determinados, el director tiene un poder más limitado, tiene que cuidar las formas… De repente se puede encontrar con una orquesta respondona, que es cosa que hace siglo y medio era impensable. A principios del siglo XX a nadie se le ocurriría pensar en un levantamiento orquestal contra un director más o menos ilustre, aquello no cabía en la cabeza, y sin embargo hoy, si un director se pasa de la raya, sea quien sea, la orquesta se levanta y se va. Eso ha cambiado mucho. Entran otros ingredientes.

–El modelo de dirección autocrática pasó a mejor vida, sustituido por el primus inter pares, ¿podemos poner una fecha a ese cambio?

–El cambio es muy evidente, pero progresivo. Es algo que a partir de finales de los 50 va cambiando progresivamente. Pero, ¿hemos abandonado del todo los modos autocráticos? Hay un componente de apariencia. Hoy ya no tienes a un Toscanini que se dirija a gritos a los músicos o a un Celibidache que pueda llegar al desprecio más absoluto en el trato. Está ese famoso documental de Celibidache ensayando la 7ª de Bruckner con la Filarmónica de Berlín, y ese tono con que se dirige a los profesores de la orquesta hoy es imposible de ver… Hemos perdido esos exabruptos, incluidos los tacos de Toscanini, y hemos dado con maneras más sutiles. Hay quien dice que Claudio Abbado, que parecía muy amable, muy dialogante, si en un ensayo se le atravesaba un músico al salir podía decírle tranquilamente al gerente de la orquesta: "A ese no me lo vuelvas a poner…". Así que el cambio es real, porque los directores saben que no pueden ir con el martillo pilón, pero también hay un componente de apariencia. Sobreviven directores que vienen de generaciones más antiguas, que tienen determinada formación y han tenido sus más y sus menos, pero los maestros de 70 años para abajo se tienen que manejar de otra manera porque si no, no tienen ningún futuro.

[Rafael Ortega Basagoiti (Madrid, 1957) / D.S.]

–¿Es posible una democracia en una orquesta?

–Al final la dirección de orquesta, si dejamos la parte de teoría musical, es un liderazgo de grupos. El líder moderno en la orquesta, la empresa y cualquier sitio, tiene que liderar por convicción, por persuasión, pero es una persona que tiene que tomar decisiones. Tú tienes 100 músicos y cada uno tendrá su idea de cómo hacer esa música, y tú puedes convencerlo y crear cierto consenso, pero alguien tiene que tomar la decisión. Al final, por mucho que se intente vestir de alguna manera, esa decisión la tiene que tomar el director, eso es indiscutible. Cómo tomarla. Hay un punto de convicción, persuasión, carisma, pero también hay algo que choca con eso, es el tiempo que tienes, sobre todo cuando hablamos de directores invitados,  porque en las orquestas modernas, y no digamos ya si hablamos de las inglesas, tú qué puedes tener, siete, ocho, diez horas de ensayo, tirando por lo muy alto, doce. En esas horas tienes que preparar un programa y llevar al huerto a las orquestas. Hay veces que no tienes tiempo de enrollarte. Tienes que tener la capacidad de convencerlos de que tu camino es el bueno, pero no tienes mucho tiempo. El director de orquesta moderno tiene que tener mucho de psicólogo…

–¿Siguen existiendo las escuelas nacionales?

–Hay cuestiones de sonido que tienen que ver con los instrumentos: por ejemplo, los metales de las orquestas del Este no son como los de las occidentales, lo que genera diferencias de sonido. Pero estamos en un mundo global, hay muchos músicos españoles en orquestas alemanas y rusos o polacos tocando a mansalva en orquestas españolas, y eso hace que las diferencias se diluyan. No son las que eran antes.

–Hablando de dirección de orquesta, ¿cualquier tiempo pasado fue mejor?

–Uf, ese es un tema para otro libro. Habrá gente que piense que es así. Conozco muchos melómanos y críticos que piensan que es así. Otros que de ninguna manera. Y otros que pensamos que para algunas cosas, sí y para otras, no. Tengo una opinión muy personal al respecto. Para cuáles sí. Pues es verdad que en función de las presiones económicas y de las necesidades de tiempo, hemos perdido la capacidad de trabajar en profundidad un programa.

–Lo de las dos semanas que se dejaban a algunos directores para un programa es casi imposible hoy, claro…

–Eso es muy difícil. El último caso que he visto fue poco antes de la pandemia y fue excepcional. Semyon Bychkov vino a dirigir la ONE, que hacía una obra que no sé si en España se ha hecho íntegra alguna vez, Mi patria de Smetana. Pidió dos semanas, y se las dieron. El resultado fue una maravilla. Pero la realidad es que esto hace 40 o 50 años era habitual. Con Celibidache o Giulini era normal. Erich Kleiber pidió 120 ensayos para el estreno de Wozzeck en 1925. Esto hoy no puede ser. En el otro extremo están pasando cosas. En Bayreuth por ejemplo estaba previsto que Valery Gergiev dirigiera el Tannhäuser. Pero Gergiev se ha metido en tal dinámica de óperas y conciertos que lo cortaron porque no tragaban con un señor que estuviera presente en un ensayo de cada tres. La realidad es que hoy se ha dejado de trabajar con el tiempo y la profundidad de antes. Si hoy te dan tres días de ensayo ya vas que ardes; eso si no es una orquesta inglesa, que a lo mejor tienes día y medio. En esto cualquier tiempo pasado fue mejor. Sin duda. La precariedad de tiempos de ensayo se nota mucho. 

–Los músicos están mejor preparados...

–Sí, eso es verdad, pero por muy bien preparados que estén… En los conciertos con solista, por ejemplo, tienen un ensayo y el general, y eso se nota. Y por eso Sokolov, que es un señor muy riguroso, ha dejado de trabajar con orquesta, porque vio que las orquestas trabajaban con tanta premura que no había forma de conseguir el nivel al que él aspira. Los músicos y los directores están mejor preparados, sí, pero hay límites, sobre todo para las obras poco habituales. A lo mejor sacas una interpretación correcta, pero nada más. No te puedes tirar 20 minutos ensayando el trémolo inicial de la 7ª de Bruckner, como Celibidache en el concierto al que me refería antes.

–El mundo de los directores es un mundo donde abunda (o abundaba al menos) el divismo. ¿Es necesario un ego enorme para brillar como director o los que son muy humildes también pueden destacar en el oficio?

–El ego es un componente de cualquier artista. Cuando uno se sube a un escenario o está muy seguro de sí mismo o te tiemblan hasta las costillas. El ego es inevitable y hasta necesario. Y es que los directores además de enfrentarse al público tienen delante a una orquesta. Si no vas seguro con lo que haces te pueden comer. Sobre todo si la orquesta es de las gordas. Recuerdo uno de los muchos documentales que hay sobre Leonard Bernstein, en que contaba cómo fue la primera vez que se enfrentó a la Filarmónica de Viena. Y para entonces él era ya un director muy establecido, y sin embargo confesaba que le temblaban las canillas. Porque la Filarmónica de Viena era la Filarmónica de Viena. Y él explica que empezó a hablarles y se dio cuenta de que se estaba empezando a poner nervioso y estaba hablando demasiado. Y entonces se puso a ensayar y ya fue bien, pero también tuvieron sus momentos tensos, porque no le gustaba cómo tocaban a Mahler… Así que una parte de ego es imprescindible, pero donde está el secreto es en gobernar el ego de forma que la orquesta te perciba como alguien seguro pero no prepotente. Hay que poner límites a ese ego. Tú sabes lo que quieres hacer pero no puedes ir levantando la nariz por encima de la orquesta. Y eso ha cambiado. Hace 50 años daba exactamente igual que levantases la nariz, pero hoy no lo puedes hacer. Y eso es posible. Yo he conocido directores que pueden ser duros en el podio, pero luego en el trato son gente muy normal y pueden ser perfectamente humildes. Por ejemplo, Harnoncourt. Era un señor de una energía, una pasión y una seguridad contagiosas, pero luego hablabas con él y era un tipo encantador, y los músicos lo adoraban.

–¿Un gran director es capaz de rescatar a una orquesta mediocre?

–Lo que no puede hacer es milagros. ¿Es capaz de reconstruir y con el tiempo llevar a una orquesta mediocre a otro nivel? Sí. Un buen trabajador de orquestas, un buen discriminador de lo que necesita un conjunto, puede hacerlo. Por ejemplo, el señor George Szell, que ha sido muy machacado porque tenía un carácter de mil pares de narices, pues llega a Cleveland y le da la vuelta por completo. Con el tiempo y la libertad para hacerlo, un buen director puede transformar una orquesta discreta en una de primer nivel. Ahora bien, de la noche a la mañana, vengo como invitado a una orquesta discreta y la hago de primer nivel, mira, no, eso no. Sí puede ocurrir que una orquesta medianamente decente, aunque no grande, se eleve a un gran nivel por un director invitado muy bueno. En una semana la transforma no en algo excepcional, pero sí en algo mucho mejor. Eso lo hemos vivido en España con gente como Celibidache o Lorin Maazel. Yo a Maazel lo vi una vez con la Orquesta de la RTVE y aquello fue apoteósico. ¿La hizo excepcional? No, pero la transformó en algo mucho mejor de a lo que estábamos acostumbrados.

–¿Están bien dirigidas las orquestas españolas?

–Sólo conozco de cerca las madrileñas, del resto no me atrevo a hablar. La Nacional y la de RTVE están en muy buenas manos, que son las de David Afkham y Pablo González. La Sinfónica ha estado en situación rara, después de López Cobos. Creo que fue Mortier quien decidió que no hubiera un titular y eso fue un error. Y en la de la Comunidad de Madrid, Víctor Pablo hizo una labor excelente y ahora está la polaca Marzena Diakun, a la que todavía no conozco lo suficiente como para opinar.

Un compositor, un director

Propongo a Rafael Ortega Basagoiti un juego: el nombre del director idóneo para cada compositor sugerido... Este es el resultado: Mozart. Nikolaus Harnoncourt. Beethoven. El último Claudio Abbado. Mahler. Leonard Bernstein. Bach. Nikolaus Harnoncourt o Philippe Herreweghe. Shostakóvich. Kurt Sanderling. Brahms. Ahí está muy alto en mi lista el mismo Sanderling y también Claudio Abbado, pero luego está Carlo Maria Giulini, que es muy especial. Chaikovski. Eugene Mravinski, aunque también me ha sorprendido Semyon Bychkov en su ciclo con la Filarmónica Checa. Haydn. Harnoncourt otra vez. Wagner. Hans Knappertsbuch entre los antiguos; Christian Thielemann, hoy. Haendel. John Eliot Gardiner. Falla. Ataúlfo Argenta.

[Diario de Sevilla. 11-12-2022]

Música, maestro: De Mahler a Dudamel. Rafael Ortega Basagoiti y Enrique Pérez Adrián. Madrid: Fórcola, 2022. 425 páginas. 34,50 euros.

[httpsdana]

Heyy! LOVE YOUR WORK DARLING!! Can you do prompt 5 and 81 for pedri. The reader is a Liverpool fan since a child and refuses to wear any other jersey. And one day pedri comes home to see her wearing Stevie G lfc jersey with a number 8. And pedri jokes when will she wear his name and she jokes and asks him to join lfc and even suggests Arne slot is bald. He’s like no something else and reader JOKING says win the ucl and barca wins ucl. Them being cute on the pitch after the win with her wearing his name and all that fluff. Sorry it’s long and specific but yeah. Thank you xx

Loyal Red~Pedri Gonzalez

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

I haven't written for pedri in ages so I enjoyed this one. ALSO I couldn't find a way to put the prompts in it but it was so cute I had to write it without them 😭

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

Pedri strolled through the front door, stretching his arms as he took off his jacket. He called out for y/n but got no answer, just the muffled sound of the TV from the living room. Walking in, he stood in his place amused, blinking a few times to take in the sight of his girlfriend lounging on the couch, wearing the one jersey that always, always got him worked up.

“Really? Liverpool, again?” he teased, his eyes narrowing playfully as he walked closer, eyeing the familiar red number 8 she had on, the name "Gerrard" plastered on her back.

Without looking up, she laughed, adjusting her messy ponytail as she smirked. “What can I say? Loyalty runs deep, Pedri.”

He rolled his eyes, sitting beside her and nudging her shoulder. “When are you finally going to wear my name and number 8 on your back, huh?”

Smiling, she gave him a playful look. “I already told you. You want me to wear your name? Then maybe you should consider joining Liverpool.”

Pedri let out a dramatic sigh, putting a hand to his forehead. “You really just want me to play for your favorite team, don’t you?”

“You know it,” she giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. “Come on, Pedri, it’d be the ultimate upgrade. You’d look so good in red! Plus Arne Slot is bald. you'd absolutely love him” she joked, teasing him about his not-so-secret adoration for bald men

He laughed slighty shaking his head before he spoke. "no way. the only bald man that can be coaching me is De La Fuenta. Or Flick if he went bald" he shrugged, and it was her turn this time to laugh.

He then leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “Or, hear me out…you could finally switch teams. Be a Barça fan, just this once.”

“Oh really?” she raised a brow, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Tell you what, if Barça wins the Champions League this season, I’ll wear your name on my back”

Pedri’s face lit up, his eyes shining with determination. “Is that a promise?”

She nodded, leaning back. “Yes, but only if you guys actually bring it home.”

“Deal.” He gave her a quick kiss before jumping up and pacing, fists pumping in the air. “You better start preparing, because I’m getting you out of that Liverpool jersey once and for all!”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

As the Champions League season progressed, Pedri was more motivated than ever. He’d send y/n pictures after every away match, pointing out how close they were getting, or would FaceTime her right after the game to remind her of her promise. And each time, she'd roll her eyes, laughing at his playful confidence.

When Barcelona reached the final, Pedri could hardly sit still. Every time he called, he’d drop hints, asking if she'd already picked out her new jersey. “You’re about to look so good in blue and red,” he’d tell her, grinning, and every time she’d shake her head, insisting that Liverpool would still be in her heart.

The final match was nothing short of intense. y/n held her breath with every play, nerves tingling as she watched Pedri and his teammates put their hearts into the game. And when the final whistle blew, signaling Barcelona’s victory, the stadium erupted, and she let out a scream of joy mixed with disbelief.

Only a few moments later, she found herself on the pitch, surrounded by the cheering fans in the stands and jubilant players.

Pedri spotted her in the crowd, his grin stretching ear to ear as he pulled hee in for a long, celebratory kiss. “So,” he murmured against her lips, his arms wrapped around her, “about that promise…”

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, you win. I guess it’s time for me to join the Barça side.”

Pedri cheered again, motioning for one of the staff members to come. As he came over to them he handed Pedri a fresh jersey, his name and the number 8 on the back. y/n laughed, taking it from him and slipping it over her head.

As a jersey with Pedri’s name and number found its way over her head, he looked at her, pride gleaming in his eyes. “Finally!” He leaned in, pressing kiss after kiss to her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, until she was giggling uncontrollably.

“Alright, alright, enough,” she laughed, trying to push him away, but he just pulled her closer.

"I'm so proud of you, you know?" she said, brushing some of his sweaty hair from his forehead. He smiled down at her, leaning down once again to connect their lips.

"and I'm proud to have you in my jersey, with my name on your back" he teased, causing her to roll her eyes playfully, slapping his chest.

"don't make me regret it" she warned him, although her tone held nothing but affection and love towards him.

"I'm gonna have the picture of you in this barca jersey carved in my mind forever. you look so much better than in that plain red shirt" he pulled a disgustes face, making her gasp.

"you better take that back" she said, curling her fingers on his jersey, pulling him closer.

"never" he murmured, before kissing her again, this time more intense and tender than before.

"come on let's pose with the trophy" he grinned, pulling her hand as they found Gavi, who was taking pictures with his family and the trophy.

"he finally got you to take that disgusting shirt off" he joked, making y/n roll her eyes as Pedri laughed beside her.

"shut up you too. I've already heard enough from this idiot" she said, slapping the back of Pedri's head to make him stop laughing.

Pablo handed them the trophy, walking away to let them pose on their own.

Pedri held her close as cameras clicked around then, pulling her into playful her and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Every so often, he’d brush a soft kiss against her temple or her cheek, murmuring, “Told you I’d get you in this jersey.”

[barbarrie]

more from marcos alonso, ferran, pedri, gavi, balde and frenkie from the napoli game

look how happy they were in the second video 🤧❤️

(group hug and pedri kissing gavi's head just completely melted me)

[pedrisbanana]

Original request:

Reader as Gavi’s gf cheating with Pedri pre match smut pls

Warning : It’s a cheating trope.

————————————————————————

You just can’t resist Barcelona‘s 8…

Enjoy 🍌

Pedri‘s Whore

„Kiss for good luck ?" Gavi smiled brightly, finger tapping his cheek. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, leaving a bright pink stain.

„Oh." You wiped his cheek with your finger, trying to get the lipstick off. „Now it looks like you blushed"

It was just another matchday. You always greeted your boyfriend before leaving off to the stands. Sometimes he even dedicated a goal to you.

Your boyfriend took your hand and kissed it.

„Don't worry about it." he paused. „I have to go. Meet me here after?"

„Yeah sure. Good Luck." you wished and watched the brunette follow the others towards the tunnel.

When the hallway was empty, the cool air made you wrap your hands around your torso. It usually wasn’t this chilly in this part of Camp Nou.

„No kiss for me, Princesa?" his lips were hot against your ear. You turned your head to the side and before you could reply, he captured your lips into a feverish kiss.

The soft material of his glove covered fingertips danced on your cheekbone. His tongue licked at your bottom lip, releasing you.

Your whole body was on fire, the much needed cardigan too hot all of a sudden.

„Pedri" your voice was a whisper. His presence made you nervous. „I told you... Gavi... a mistake"

Pedri was Gavi’s best friend and teammate. You shouldn’t betray your beloved like this. Not again.

The midfielder admired your face. His whole being pulled you in like a spell. The forbidden fruit.

„If it was a mistake, then why can't you look at me when you're talking, hm ?" his hand forced you to look at him, by grabbing your chin.

„You're so sexy, getting all dressed up for your boyfriend." Pedri's other hand followed the curve of your waist to cup your ass over your denim skirt. He pressed his nose to your hair, taking in your smell.

This turned you on more than it should. You panties were soaked.

„Don't you have a match to play ?" you put all your leftover confidence into this question, stepping out of his grasp.

Pedri laughed. „You want me to go out there like this?" he pointed to his very obvious erection, the golden shorts stretched out. „Gavi's gonna ask me what happened and should I say that it's his girlfriend's fault? Do you want me to tell him about us?"

You cursed. He had a point, but you also knew that he was playing with you. And he won.

So you closed the gap between you two and sunk too your knees, praying that no one would come looking for Pedri.

He smirked, taking your hair into a ponytail, enjoying how easy you gave into him.

Before pulling on the waistband of his shorts, you decided to tease him by pulling his jersey up to reveal a little bit of his V line. You pressed a kiss right above his shorts.

Pedri hissed. „Don't tease, mi amor. I have a match to play now."

Right. You needed to hurry. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you freed his needy cock.

Licking from his balls to his reddened tip, you made him groan out, before wrapping your lips around him. You used your hands to stimulate what your mouth couldn't reach.

Pedri liked it rough and fast. His thrusts joined the rhythm of your mouth.

To bring him over the edge, you looked up and batted your lashes.

„I said no teasing." Pedri moaned and pulled you from his erection. Spit and precum ran from your swollen lips.

He dragged you up and pinned you against the wall. His hand made you arch against the wall.

„I guess the match has to wait, have fun explaining that to your boyfriend."

His voice made you rub your thighs together. His gloved hands pushed the denim of your skirt over your ass. He pushed your panties to the side and thrust inside of you with one harsh push.

You screamed his name, resulting in Pedri putting a hand over your mouth. Gavi had always used a condom, but now Pedri fucked you raw, your pussy clenching around him with every thrust.

„Rub your clit, amor, make yourself come on my cock" the midfielder encouraged you, his own release close.

You did as he instructed and pleasured yourself, hips meeting his thrusts. The knot in your stomach tightened. Pedri whispered praises in spanish to you, bringing you closer to the edge.

Biting down on his hand when you came, you hoped you didn't make a mess on his jersey. Pedri slapped your ass cheek hard when he came, pumping his seed deep inside you.

The feeling made you clench, milking him for every last drop. When he pulled out, Pedri wiped your folds with his fingers, pushing his cum back inside you.

He neatly covered your private parts with your panties again, fixing the denim as well.

Regaining your breath and composure, you straightened your back and turned to the footballer.

Pedri fixed himself, his right glove being wet from your mixed arousal, but he didn't seem to care.

„You should fix your lipstick... and your hair. You look like a whore, but that's what you are... my little whore. Poor Gavi." he said looking you straight in the eyes.

You stared back at him with a hurt expression, knowing he was right.

Pedri raised his brow and brushed past you. Swallowing the tears, you went looking for a bathroom.

After fixing yourself and finding your seat, you could finally enjoy the match. In the 74' Pedri scored a goal, assisted by none other than Gavi.

You cheered as the boys celebrated together. Both doing the signature Pedri Potter celebration.

But before Pedri went back to his teammates, he pulled up the hem of his jersey, revealing the lipstick stain you left earlier on his defined V line. He stuck his tongue out and winked at you.

You froze. He wanted to remind you.

You may be Gavi's girlfriend, but more so were you Pedri's whore.

A/N: The title inspired by my lovely @pedriswife . I hope you don’t mind me tagging you.

We‘re all just Pedri‘s Whores. Periodt.

Also no. Pedri didn’t take off the gloves before playing.

Lots of kisses 💕

[lilirari]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ ( ⚽ ) . . . FAKE TEXTS ⁶ !

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ꩜⋆ aahhh this is for that anon who requested for pedri/gavi fake texts ! i'm so sorry i accidentally deleted your ask 😭 anyways i couldn't write anything for this holiday szn so this is my christmas post 😞🤞 i love you all happy holidays once again 💌

© LILIRARI, 2023 ★

[beautiful-basque-country]

That Spanish chef that murdered his Colombian partner in Thailand had more press coverage in Spain than Pablo González, it seems..

Kaixo anon!

Yeah, and it makes you wonder why, right?

One is a handsome chef son and grandson of famous Spanish actors, rich, Madrid-born. Most media are questioning Thai police and being oh so concerned about the presumed killer's well being, praying for his family, and hoping he can serve his time in Spain. The general suggestion is he's guilty, but poor soul.

The other one is a Basque man - son of an exiled Basque woman in Russia -, journalist, of humble origins, and average looking. There hasn't been any news coverage and nobody on mass media questioned Polish police, nobody in the main media has showed their concerns about his well being, or his family's, or even has thought about him serving his time in Spain. The general assumption is he's guilty, so let him rot there.

One of them has a ton of evidences against him and has confessed his crime.

The other has been in prison for 1 year and a half now, with no evidence against him, and without a precise crime to accuse him of.

#justiceForPablo #freePablo

[gadriezmannsgirl]

hi could i request where the reader has hip dips and is a bit inscure for pedri or gavi as u wish thank u:))

Ohmy- dear, you're the best! I have hip dips and it hit me so hard because I'm working my ass off to fill them in with exercises, even though they are not very noticeable, they make me feel a little insecure when going to the beach... So I stopped everything and made this for me, for you if you have hip dips and for everyone who has them too!

I decided to make this one a little different and I have these two little scenarios for both boys so here it is!

Hip Dips -P.G6 & P.G8

Summary: Their reaction of your hip dips

Pedri:

"Amor, ¿Qué 'tas haciendo?" (Babe, what are you doing?)

"I'm seeing my gym process" You said watching your whole frame and mostly your hips

"Well, I get that, I also do that. But you have been looking at yourself for the past hour and half, it's my job to lovingly stare at you for the rest of our lives" His comment produced a smile out of you as you felt hot on your cheeks.

"Tú si eres lindo" (You're so cute) You said turning around watching him smile at you from his side of the bed, he patted his lap signaling you to get closer with a nod "I'm not a dog"

"Ven aqui mi woof woof" (Come here my woof woof) You both laughed as you walked up to him and sat on his lap, your arms going around his neck "What's up?"

"What's up with what?"

"What's up with you looking at yourself so much in the mirror? Don't get me wrong, I love the fact you're seeing that you're absolutely gorgeous" You roll your eyes "But let's not turn that ego up to the roof that we can be left without one because of it" You shake your head "Don't lie please, I was eeing your face the whole time" He said now seriously

"I'm seeing how much I've progressed with this thing over here" You touch your hip where a very common dip, that many women have; lays, making a face "It's barely starting to fill in but I have been training so hard for it" You shrug your shoulders "I don't know, I guess I want to see the final result now"

"I know you do but it takes a bit of time, amor. It's like a muscle that grows" He says kissing your nose as you smile without showing your teeth

"I know but I wanna have roundy really sexy and pretty hips, y'know? Not that flat and dipped part in them."

"I'm happy and proud of you for working for them and for the better" He stopped looking at you before shaking his head "... But you don't need to, you already are looking nice, you are beautiful and sexy just the way you are. Let me tell you, everytime I see you I go crazy in the greatest term of the word all over and over again" He snuzzled his nose into your neck as you giggled

"Thank you mi vidita" You pecked his lips "But I don't know" You said softly dragging out the words before he tasked his tongue

"I love you, I'm happy for you but I don't want you to overwork yourself for something that is normal 'cus other women have these" His hands went to your dipping area "You may fill it but it won't ever be the same because it's a bone thing, it's something that's with you since you were born and it doesn't matter to me if you have it or not. You're beautiful, I love you and you're still the love of my life with or without hip dips"

Gavi:

You let out another frustration groan and threw the jeans you had on, behind your back and let yourself fall onto the bed, feeling like crying.

It was supposed to be a nice day with your boyfriend of a year and half, his sister, her boyfriend and his friends, enjoying the two weeks vacation you guys had in Ibiza.

You were always comfortable of your body and always said what you think, you knew what you wanted, you stood up for what you believed and you always worked hard if you wanted something.

Right now, all you wanted was to be in a Doctor's office as they checked out your hip dipping.

Everything was going on nicely, you wore your best bathing suit and were enjoying in a yatch at Formentera when you saw another yatch with girls, to be precise, girls without a hip dipping.

You saw how the guys looked at the group of girls and even your boyfriend did for a few seconds until his gaze turned to you and winked at you before pulling you into him and kissing your lips.

Ever since that little moment you've been running your mind up, if you weren't inside the water, you were sat or with a towel covering your hips.

Now, it was late and the guys proposed to go out a eat some but none of the jeans, skirts, dresses, jumpsuits you have tried on were satistying your need of looking extremely good.

It also didn't help the fact that Aurora pulled off anything she putted on, she could probably wear a trash emoji suit and she would still look beautiful.

"Preciosa, are you ready? Javi, Aurora and Cristo already left. Mario, Ale and Diego are waiting for- what happened here?"

"I'm not going!" You exclaimed throwing your hands up and letting more clothes fall to the floor "I don't have anything I like"

"What do you mean you don't have anything you like?" He picked up a jean skirt "You love this one" He picked up a black long but transparent sleeve top "You and even I, love this" He point with his shoe a pair of heels "Those make you look fantastic and you love them too" He sighed looking at you and understood your face when he saw you "What's wrong?"

"Nothing"

"Nothing doesn't make you do this mess, it also doesn't quit that beautiful smile I love watching in your face and it also doesn't make you uncomfortable... Talk to me?"

You sighed looking up at him "I don't like how they are looking on me" His eyebrows furrowed deeply

"What?"

"I don't like how they are looking on me" You sighed "Everything's looking bad and it's all because of my dips"

"Dips? What are you talking about?"

"My hip dips, Pablo!"

"Why is this a thing now? You never really care much of it" Pablo shook his head

"I'm doing it now!" He was left in silence for some seconds picking up some of your clothes "You don't have to do that, amor. You can tell the guys I'm not going, you go"

"We, both, are going" He threw a lovely short jumpsuit with sunflowers on it on the bed, he also grabbed a nice pair of sandals, a few accesories and he picked his jean jacket and laid it besides you "Get dressed, we are going"

"Pablo"

"You have nothing to worry about, your hips are the most beautiful I have seen in my life and I love them. You should as well, mi niña. I don't know what made you this insecure with them but I'm telling you, you're perfect and that's something natural that happens to a lot of women. You're not the only one with them dips. Stop thinking badly of them because they only make you unique and more beautiful than what you always are. They are a part of what you are." He smiled softly, giving a kiss to your temple.

"Get changed, hermosa. We're going out, we'll have the most amazing time there, we'll eat and dance a lot and when we come back here, I'll show you how much I love them"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[sesiondemadrugada]

Pablo González-Trejo.

[milawritesstuff]

Gavi X Pedri X Reader Smut!

A/N: I’ve had this request in my inbox for weeks and despite all of your great ideas it was hard to actually sit down and write. I hope you like it. And if you don’t then please don’t let me know lol. But if you do please tell me because that motivates me to write more.

•••

You sat on the couch along with two of your closest friends. They had a few free days from their typical busy schedule and you had been watching movies and playing video games.

You stood up and poured another drink into your cup. The dark haired one, Pedri, turned over and smiled at you. -Why don’t we make this more interesting?- You walked back to the couch and sat next to him. -When someone loses.- he said pointing to the board game you had set out on the coffee table. -You have to remove one article of clothing.- He raised his eyebrows as a way of asking if you and Gavi were in on it. You laughed.

Gavi on the other couch laughed. -You know you’re not subtle at all? We know you want to see her naked.- he took a sip of his drink. Pedri began to laugh as you turned your attention to Gavi. -I know you want to as well, Pablito.- you said and the three of you began to laugh. Before you began to play again you filled up everyone’s cup with their alcohol of choice.

You lost the first game and you proceeded to unbutton and take off your pants leaving you in just your underwear and shirt. Gavi gulped. Pedri leaned over. -Y/N you could have just take off your bra, you didn’t have to start off so strong.- he said. You smiled. -That would have been smart, if I was wearing one.- you added causing both boys to look at each other and gulp.

You knew you couldn’t afford to lose again and not so soon. You only had a shirt and your underwear left and losing either one would leave you extremely exposed. The next one to lose was Gavi. He took off one shoe. -That doesn’t really count.- you said and he laughed. He rolled his eyes. -Fine.- he took off the other and his socks. You shook your head. The next round was lost by Pedri. Before he could take anything off you yelled at him. -Wait.- You walked over to him and he stood up to face you. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and pulled it off of him. He stared at you intensely. You placed your hand on his chest which sent shivers down his body.

The two of you were soon interrupted by Gavi who yelled out. -Come on, we still have a lot of clothes to get rid of.- You went back and sat down on the couch continuing to play. Eventually Gavi was left in nothing but his boxers. Pedri still had his pants on and you had your shirt and underwear. You could feel their piercing eyes on you every time it was your turn. You lost.

You looked up at the two boys waiting eagerly for you to make your choice as to what you would be taking off. You stood up and looked at them once again. -Well, this is a very hard decision.- you said and they laughed.

Gavi stood. -I have a suggestion.- He looked over at Pedri who nodded his head. -We each get to chose what you take off.- Said Gavi.

You had made out with both boys, separately. Some drunken nights had turned into more with each of them but it never went past that. They were two of your closest friends and you enjoyed their company. But you would be lying if the thought of having them both, together, didn’t excite you. You turned over to Pedri who smiled.

-Well, what do you chose, Pedri?- You said feeling butterflies in your stomach. He stood up and gulped.

-I think.- he said as he neared you and bent down a little beginning to push your shirt up and eventually exposed your breasts. He licked his lips. -I think I want the shirt off.- he pulled it off of you and threw it on the floor. He stood in front of you almost frozen. You turned over to look at Gavi who was sitting on the couch bitting his bottom lip.

-And you?- he smiled and walked over to you.

-Well, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?- he bent down in front of you and bit the top of your underwear with his teeth slowly pulling them down. You could feel yourself getting wetter.

You stepped out of your underwear and Gavi stood up. You grabbed both of their hands and walked them over to your room. They looked all around and waited for you. You went towards your bed. -Are you guys ready?- you said, the words barely making their way out of your mouth.

Both boys nodded and Pedri took a step closer to you. He sat you on the edge of the bed. He kneeled in front of you. -Spread your legs.- he whispered and you did as he asked. You turned your attention to Gavi who was just standing there. You looked down at he bulge begging to come out of his underwear. You moaned as soon as you felt Pedri’s mouth on your core. His tongue flickered up and down. You looked down at Pedri who looked up almost as if he was looking for affirmation that he was doing well. You smiled and then looked back to Gavi. His bewildered eyes. Your mouth open and moans escaping it from the pleasure Pedri was giving you.

-Are you just going to stand there?- you asked Gavi. Pedri turned his attention to his friend and smirked. -Vamos Pablo. Now is your chance to do all the things you told me you wanted to do to her.-

You smiled at the thought of them talking about you. Gavi laughed and walked towards the bed. Pedri moved you completely onto the bed and went back to licking you. Gavi slowly got on the bed and your eyes locked with each other. You followed his every move. He leaned in close to your mouth and placed a soft kiss on your lips causing you to moan along with Pedri’s tongue inside of you. Gavi smirked.

He moved himself down and massaged your breasts. You felt as he placed his mouth around your nipples causing you to arch your back. One hand on your breasts and his other hand moving up and down his length.

You could feel electricity being sent through your body with their touch. You moaned out Pedri’s name as he flickered his tongue and you felt yourself come. He raised his head up and you could see your juices all over his lips.

-Come here.- you told Pedri who kneeled in front of you on the bed. You looked up at him and began to tug down on his boxers eventually exposing his hard length already leaking with precum. You grabbed it and put your lips around the tip. As soon as he felt your touch he threw his head backwards and furrowed his brows.

You felt Gavi’s hands around your waist. He slowly moved his hands around your ass and lifted you a bit. You got the hint and went on all fours on the bed without letting Pedri out of your mouth.

You felt small kisses being left down your back by Gavi. You heard a wrapper opening as Gavi put on a condom. And then you felt him enter you. You did your best not to bite down on Pedri as you moaned.

-Faster, Gavi.- you yelled as you felt him going in and out of you. You also felt as Pedri began to thrust faster into your mouth. But you wanted to feel him inside of you too. Gavi slapped your ass. You opened your eyes and saw Pedri’s face. His red cheeks. His furrowed brows.

-Pedri, I want you to finish inside of me.- although you directed these words at Pedri they had an effect on Gavi who began to thrust in sloppier. -Pablo.- you moaned as he pushed you into the bed. Pedri took himself out of your mouth and laid on the bed watching.

Eventually Gavi came and yelled out profanities. He took himself out of you and disposed of the condom.

But you still wanted, no, needed more. You directed your attention to Pedri and crawled over him. He rested his back on your headrest. You took out a condom from your dresser and placed it on him.

-Now it’s your turn.- you said as he lifted you up and then entered you. You closed your eyes with pleasure as he bucked up his hips and kneaded your breasts. He looked up at you with anticipation. Gavi on the bed just looking as you bounced up and down on his friend.

Eventually Pedri made you come. You got off of him and he took the condom off. You laid there in between the two of them.

-Well that definitely made it interesting.- you said breaking the silence causing all three of you to laugh.

[incorrect-futbol-quotes]

Pedri: "It's easy to forget what a sin is in the middle of a battlefield."

Gavi: Opposite over hypotenuse.

Gavi: Dipshit.