#after 4 years of spanish bitching

[stateofcharles]

JUST TWO WEEKS FOLKS, THE COUNTDOWN CAN OFFICIALLY START!!!

[camelspit]

how am i supposed to raise my gpa if i keep getting the shittiest fucking teachers on earth oh my god. no more peace and love i hope they die.

[error404vnotfound]

making myself read a book in my tbr by procratinating choosing which Austen book I'll read next

[cazzyf1]

An Article about Lella Lombardi - Nobody makes jokes about women drivers around Lella Lombardi

The sleek Lola T-332 racing car crossed the starting line at the river side, Calif, Grand Prix, hurtled ahead of three cars, and swooped back inside with split-second timings.

"You mean that's really a girl?" Muttered three times indianapolis 500 winner A. J. Foyt, looking on in incredulously from the side liners.

For Lella Lombardi, the first woman in 17 years (and the second ever) to compete on high performance Formula One circut - the big leagues of professionals auto racing - the question is all but invetable. What in the world is a nice Italian girl like Lella doing in overalls and a crash helmet, risking her life at speeds close to 200 miles an hour?

"That's what mama keeps asking me," says the tomboyish 31-year-old Lella, "I guess she thinks I should be home with a good husband and a houseful of bambini."

It was obvious from the beginning, to Lella at least, that she was cut from different cloth compared to most girls. Born in the little Piedmontese village of Furgarolo, she was hooked on auto racing before she was out of diapers.

"The first I remember, I am perhaps 4 or 5 years old," she recalls, "I was making little cars from things I found in my mum's sewing box. When I was 8 I decided I shall be a racing driver. I didn't say anything but I made up my mind."

As a teenager Lella raced motorcycles with boys in her village. The boys were scandalized she beat them - their mothers that she was racing at all. Eventually the village priest came to call.

"He explained why I should be like a girl and what a girl must do," she remembers. "So I told him, 'yes father' but all the time I am thinking why am I not allowed to do as I want."

Nothing if not persistent, Lella saw her first race at 18. Five years later she brought a car of her own, secondhand, Formula Monza 500 that she tinkered with and drove in races herself. Last year, nearly after a decade of coming up through the ranks, she was approached by March Racing Ltd, of England which was looking for a driver for its two-man Grand Prix team.

"Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 5000 - I raced in them all," says Lella, "I win a lot in Italy - six times women's champion. So when March comes to ask me to try out for them, I say to myself, 'Why not?'"

March's decision to hire her was hardly made lightly. A single Grand Prix car costs $100,000 and putting it through a season of racing costs several hundred thousand dollars more.

"Putting a woman into a Grand Prix cockpit means shattering a lot of tradition," acknowledges March team manager, Max Mosley. "Of course, my wild told me, the only reason I was hesitating was because of Lella's sex, no doubt about her skill, in the end, I guess my wife was right."

Now prepping for this Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Lella is given little chance of winning a race this season (although she finished a respectable sixth in last week's accident-shorter Spanish Grand Prix) since March is designing its cars. Some drivers perhaps disturbed by Lella's invasion of their male peserve, doubt the chunky, 5"2, Lombardi has the stamina for long-distance racing. But March chief Roy Wardell, was watching her during a gruelling test of the company's racers, disagrees.

"Thrasing a car about it bloody hard work," he says, "most male drivers would have been bitching and complaining but she drove more than 300 miles flat out without a whimper." Her main fault, says Wardell, is a rookie's understandable caution. "Lella is still a bit afraid that if she spins out everyone will say, 'see a woman driver'" he says, "but her confidence is building. Pretty soon she'll be mixing it up with the best of them."

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: oh boy okay so Angst! profanity! Violence! Mentions of blood! Injury! Abusive-ish behavior!!! MARTIN!!!!!! Ferran! Blackmail!! Just shitty behavior!!!! pls don't read if you're not comfortable!

Word Count: 14.1k (fun fact! If you've read all 7 parts, you've read 87 pages single space!)

A/N: Guys this is one of the chapters I had planned out from the beginning. I really have poured a lot of my own soul into this, so I hope y'all enjoy! I'm actually so ready to read the reactions to this one lol. GIF by @rubendiasatl

You thought you had met the love of your life in college. He appeared to be perfect. He was the captain of the swim team, rumored to get a national championship that year in the 100m freestyle. He was the secretary of Phi Pi Delta, the largest business fraternity in the region, set to work on Wall Street making $200k right after graduation. You two were the perfect couple: Ryan, with his perfect hair and perfect smile, the sexy, sporty Spanish girl on his arm. You were conquering medicine as he ruled the world of finance. Sometimes on your walk to class, you would daydream about what your wedding would look like.

You did everything that was required of you as "Ryan's girl". You were an academic badass, but in a completely different field, so he could have a smart girl that would never be his competition. You worked as a sports manager, showing that "Ryan's girl" was a powerhouse on her own that commanded respect, but turned into a shy little lamb around her man. You worked hard and played harder, going to every PPD event and mixer. You always drank to show people that you weren't a prude, but you were never the girl hunched over the toilet losing her innards. You were good at beer pong, but only when Ryan was your partner. You played 7 minutes in heaven, but were so cold and intimidating that everyone left with blue balls and a muttering of "what a bitch". For 8 months of your senior year, you were "Ryan's girl", and you were the absolute best at playing the part.

It was a tiring job, but one you balanced with all your other actions. You learned how to get him and his friends basketball tickets mere hours before tipoff. You were an expert at covering hickies, but also enhancing them when he wanted to prove to the guys at a rival frat that he wasn’t soft. You killed your complaints and your gag reflex, knees growing used to the rough carpet of the frat house. You never asked for his location, and never made a face when other girls talked about how much they wanted your man. You never bored him with talks of your futures after graduation. You were perfect.

You looked perfect the day you walked into the frat house, hair pulled back in a slick ponytail to show off the piercings in your ear and the tightness of your polo shirt. Your khakis hugged your thighs, Jordan’s pristine as you slipped them off before heading upstairs. The basketball team had offered you a full time position; you could stay for the next several years if you so chose. Everything was perfect. The sky was the perfect shade of blue. The air was the perfect temperature with a perfect breeze. And as you opened the door to your boyfriend’s room, you saw a bare figure on top of him, connected at their cores, with her mouth shaped in a perfect “O”. And one perfect tear ran down your cheek as you silently walked back down the stairs, ignoring the yells about it not being what it looked like, and left Ryan behind forever.

You hadn’t thought about Ryan in years. But his memory came back to you as you pulled up to Martin’s house and found his car parked out in front of his door instead of it’s usual place in the garage. The Benz stared back at you, looking so different from that first date. It had been bright and welcoming and joyous that very first time it rolled up in front of your building. Now it was different, the blue taking on a more hue, feeling ominous and serious. It was the color of midnight - the color of fear. Why was the precious Benz parked out front? Martin wouldn't even let some valets park his car for fear of it getting scratched. His tires were still turned. The Benz was crooked in the driveway.

You walked up to the door, and you thought about Ryan again. You thought about the countless texts he sent you afterwards, telling you how much he loved you and how he would never do it again. And you read every single one, waiting with baited breath for him to say what you needed to hear: that he regretted it. That he had made a terrible mistake when he was out of his mind and he hated every second. But it never came. He wanted you, but he never regretted that moment with her. He never felt remorse about the moment he decided she was more important than you were. It didn't make you sad or angry - just empty. It was like a hold had been carved out, and it was another reminder that it would never be filled. You would never be the first choice. You would never be that girl that was above it all. You would always be a pretty good girl that needed to be supplemented by someone else.

The hole within you had not been filled, but it started to be covered by some good people in your lives. Your friends at your physiology program made you always feel competent and capable in what you were doing in school. Angelika and your other university friends gave you comfort, covering the emptiness with warm feelings. And now, you had the boys at Barca had worked to cover that hole with positive affirmations, reminding you that you were just as much a part of the team and how much you were valued. And there was a bit of the hole that started to close, one centimeter at a time, every time you looked at your phone and saw that Gavi was checking up on you.

You felt that hole fill with butterflies as you wrote out your Christmas card to him. You hadn't wanted it to come across as cheesy or desperate, despite you reassuring yourself that you couldn't be desperate if you were in a relationship. You had begged the media team for any photo of you and Gavi, knowing how much the sentiment would mean to him. One thing you had noticed during your two brief appearances in Pablo's home was his appreciation for the few pictures he had. They were taped to the wall beside the door: photos from his youth at his La Masia matches, his family on vacation, and a polaroid with a few of the Barca boys. A part of you hoped you would make it onto the wall.

But with each knock on Martin's door that went unanswered, the butterflies disintegrated, filling you with smoke and ash and bile, the hole in your very soul aching. As you turned the doorknob, you felt it give way easily - the door was unlocked. He had come home, car parked haphazardly, with the door remaining unlocked. You braced yourself, not exactly sure for what, and entered the house.

You should have seen it coming. You should have known from his demeanor and the way he spoke to you when you were with him versus when you were away. You should have listened to the whispers on the internet and in the locker room. But you ignored it all, believing that people were inherently good and caring. And now your naivety had all culminated and led to this moment: you standing in Martin's entryway, staring at his hideous brown couch, a trail of clothes leading from your feet to the naked girl perched on the dark fabric. The two of you locked eyes, and her mouth dropped agape. She grabbed the closest piece of fabric to cover her bare form, her pale cheeks turning scarlet from embarrassment.

"Bonita, hurry up so I can call my girl-"

Martin's eyes locked with yours, stopping dead in his tracks and freezing as his girl on the couch did. You waited for either of them to speak. With baited breath you waited for the feminine screams of "you have a girlfriend?" and the begs to provide an explanation. But the air was heavy with nothing but guilt and the disappointment of being caught. As your breath grew heavier, the nausea settled into your stomach. You tried to muster a tear, deciding it would be less embarrassing to cry than to throw up on the tile.

"Bonita, it's not what it looks like. If we could just talk-"

"How are you going to use the same pet name for the both of us?" You asked, patience finally snapping. The emotions from the last four months came flooding through, boiling the blood in your veins. You had cut yourself up and torn your very being apart to please this man. The things you wore and said and did and ate and enjoyed were all altered to fit his impossible standard. You were playing a part again. You had sacrificed so much of yourself for one crumb of affection and security, and once again you weren't enough.

"Just calm down an let me explain."

You tried with every fiber of your being to keep the tears at bay - you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt you.

"All I ever did was try and be a good girlfriend. Do you realize that? Through the stupid dinner dates and your rants about football, I tried to be patient and fun and understanding. I never complained, not once, about your lack of support or how everything you did made it clear you didn't like me. I dealt with all of your cold fronts, your unfounded jealous, your below mediocre sex - all of it, because that's what you do when you're in a fucking relationship until someone finally cuts the cord and frees you both. But you didn't have the decency to pretend." You spat the words out at him, no longer caring about if you cried.

"The least you could do was not fuck anyone else in the house that you asked me to move in to."

Everyone on the room had gone silent, from Martin to his mistress. How could he retaliate? Where could he start? The flood gates had been opened, and the realization of how much this man made you hate your life was flowing freely.

"Goodbye Martin." You turned and walked out the door, your keys in hand, ready to go home and lose consciousness. Tomorrow you would wake up and be as you were - single and free of the burden this relationship placed on you.

"Come back here." You heard Martin's voice shout behind you, before a hand reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, ripping your keys from your hands, cutting your palm in the process. As the red fluid pooled in your palm, you looked up at Martin in shock and fear. He looked back at you, then at your outstretched hand still pooling with blood.

"Shit, I'm- I didn't mean to do that. But you can't just drive away until you let me speak. I won't let you."

"As if you're allowed to decide what I can and can't do. Give me back my keys before I call the police."

"You're not calling anyone or doing anything until I speak to you." Martin said, lunging at you and grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. You cried out and struggled against him as he tried to pull you towards the house, hoping to prevent a scene in front of the neighbors. Martin's side piece stood at the door, now fully clothed, watching silently as the two of you struggled by the entryway.

"Get off of me you cheating sack of shit! I don't want to hear anything you have to say, let me go!" His grip loosened as you pulled away, unable to restrain you with both hands for fear you would take your car keys back.

"Bonita, I'm not trying to hurt you, I love you and I-"

"Bullshit! And stop calling me fucking bonita." You tried to reach for your keys again, but Martin's hand came and wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt.

"No. You don't get to abandon me without hearing what I have to say. All I have ever done is try and look past how difficult you are to love and be around," his grip tightened on your collar, the fabric now bunching to restrict your airway slightly. "And now that I've made one mistake you think you get to just run? You're not going anywhere until I say you can. If you know what's good for you, you'll just listen."

The bile started to rise in your throat as your heart beat faster. For the first time in your life, you really felt like you were in danger. The sting of your palm was hard to ignore now, the blood nestling into the lines on your palm, dots littered across your pant leg. Once you felt Martin's grip loosen lightly, you put all your weight behind you and shoved him as hard as you could, causing him to fall backwards. You bolted for the door, keys forgotten as you ran at a speed you didn't know you were capable of.

The fall did not deter him for long, as you heard your name in Martin's deep, agitated voice carry to your ears on the night air, accompanied by heavy, fast footsteps. You were being chased. Heart racing, your feet slammed against the pavement, trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Your throat started to tighten with anxiety, fight or flight now in full control. You didn't even know where you were going. You took whatever turn felt natural, willing yourself not to turn around.

Martin realized with every step he took that it was too late to turn back. There was now street camera of him chasing you shirtless through the streets of a Barcelona neighborhood. He wasn't even sure why he had done it. By it he meant the chasing - not the sleeping with other women. That part was quite simple. He was 24 now, and it was time he was photographed with the same girl more than once. His club going days had become the topic of every family dinner and every call with his mother.

"Martin, when are you going to stop going to the club every night and actually bring us a nice girl? You're ruining your reputation by taking all these different girls home."

He was nothing if not a boy that wanted to make his mother happy. When he say Angelika in the club that day, he sensed he had been getting close. She was funny and outgoing and actually had a job that didn't involve her sponsoring Bang energy on the internet. But she was still at the club on a Tuesday night, and had flirted her way into the VIP section. Too high maintenance. But then as he left the club, pretty young drunk thing slung over his arm, he got to see you.

Initially, you didn't make a huge impression. Boring looking and kind of loud - not the girl he would usually go for. He was still a little hazy from the club air, sweat and tequila still lingering in his lungs. He had just handed Angelika off to you, before he took a look at the back of your car. A few stickers were there, displaying the name of your universities, and a bright blue one that read 'ask me about ACL tears!'. It sparked his interest - not only that you could afford the car, but that you were obviously decently intelligent to be touting all these universities. It prompted Martin to ask for your number, just as a backup in case finding a "good girl" was harder than he thought.

It was, in fact, much harder than he thought to find a girl to bring home to his mother. All the smart girls tended not to give him the time of day, either taken or too busy. Pretty girl were too expensive and high strung - not what he needed. And those sweet girls that he found at the supermarket and the park? Most of them were ready to live the football WAG life, wanting to go public with him immediately. If there's one thing Martin was sure of, it was that he wasn't ready too commit to just one screw for any period of time. He had a rotation of girls in and out of his bed, shower, car - he couldn't just cut all of them off.

That's exactly what was on his mind when he saw Angelika in line for the club again. She was cute enough to take home that night, but girls usually didn't open up without some conversation. He can't remember how the topic turned to you, but Angelika gushed about how much she adored you.

"But she's just so busy. She's always so focused on work that she doesn't have much time to even process what's going on around her."

Getting you was quite easy after that. He had listened to girls long enough to understand how to keep them happy. It was the lack of instant sex that really hurt his pride. This was not the 1940s - he was not going to wait 3 months, taking a girl out and showering her with love, just to get some pussy. He would just supplement with other women. Ferran was often the person that would help him get girls, as they usually recognized the young Barca bench boy before they realized who Martin was. So they worked as a team: Martin supplying money and alcohol, and Ferran supplying girls.

It was when Gavi started to enter the picture that he, for the first time in his life, felt the angry weeds of jealousy take root in his throat. No matter what he did behind closed doors, you were his, not Gavi's, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let a love-sick teenager take his girl. Now he was chasing you down the street, 10 days before he planned to introduce you to his mother at Christmas, willing all the neighbors to stay away from the windows and ignore the eventual screams they heard from the street.

Your eyes focused, the adrenaline fog leaving your brain as you wildly scanned the street: this was Gavi's neighborhood. Identifying the houses, you made a sharp right turn and ran towards his house at end of the street. You prayed that he was still awake as you got to the door, banging as hard as you could, and yelling out his name.

"Pablo! Let me in! Get the fuck away from me!"

You watched as Martin slowed down, walking towards you cautiously with his hands in the air. He moved his lips to say something, but your heartbeat was in your ears, tears streaming down your face as you kept banging on the door. The slit across your palm seared with pain, and every pang circulated more fear through you. Martin was capable and willing to hurt you.

The door opened, and you caught a glimpse of Gavi's face. That was enough reassurance for your legs to give out from the effort, sobs still shaking your entire being as you fell into his chest. Your palms grabbed at his shirt, needing anything to ground you in reality. Gavi was not a large boy; Martin had 5 inches and 6 years on Gavi, which would make any betting man wary of the outcome if a fight were to break out. But none of that mattered to you. Gavi's arms were around you, holding you up and against him, and you felt safe.

Gavi tore his eyes away from Martin, who was shirtless and frozen in his walkway, to look at you. As he pulled you away from his chest slowly, he felt a warm wet spot spread across his shirt. It was too large to be tears. He wished he hadn't looked down to see the red spot darkening his t-shirt. Grabbing your wrists, he looked at the jagged cut on the skin there, still bleeding freely. Gavi hugged you closer into his chest, one hand around your waist and one by your head, hiding you in his shoulder as you continued to cry.

"What did he do?" He asked, voice tight and strained. You shook your head, crying harder, trying to gulp down any air to stop the light-headedness. You could not see or think straight, the questions too overwhelming.

"Pablito, just let me talk to my girl, and go back inside." Martin instructed, walking towards the two of you slowly, as a hunter would approach a deer. You clung onto Gavi tighter, a shrill 'No!' yelped against his skin, sobs coming back in full force. Gavi couldn't stand it. The blood in his veins grew hotter the longer he held your fragile form. He was quick to anger, but this was different. You had run to his house crying and bleeding because of the vile man you had been dating. On an average day, he was ready to go to blows because of a stray leg in a football match. This was more serious - more sinister. He had hurt you in ways Gavi couldn't fathom a man hurting any woman, let alone you. He turned over the idea of manslaughter in his head as he tried again.

"Please, y/n. Please tell me what he did. Because at this rate, I'm going to kill him. Y/n, please."

Gulping down breath after desperate breath, you muttered out what had happened to Gavi in the best way you could. You knew there was nothing you could say to get Gavi to just walk away, but you couldn't stand the idea of Pablo doing irreparable damage to his future on your behalf.

"Found him... cheating... took my... k-keys.. that's why m-my hand. But I'm-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're okay." Gavi put you down on the ground, resting your back against the wall before he stood. The edges of his vision were dark and red, and in that moment he swore he could have killed Martin with his bare hands. When would this man have taken enough? Martin had snatched you off the market, keeping you hostage in a crumbling, decaying relationship while Gavi fawned over you. Martin chipped away at you soul, dimming the once radiant light that enamored those you encountered. Martin made you insecure and self-hating, all while keeping a line of girls wrapped around his bedroom to fool around with as you chased your dreams. Martin had taken everything Gavi had loved about you and poisoned it, leaving the ashes of a bright young woman in his path. Now he would pay for it.

"Martin, give me her keys and get the fuck away from my property before I make your mother regret the day she lost her virginity." Gavi was seething, You looked up at his squared shoulders and tight face, and couldn't tell if the wisps of smoke emanating from him were real or not. You wanted to stand, block the warpath Pablo was on, and prevent the violence you knew was about to ensue, but your head and eyes felt heavy, keeping you firmly planted to the ground.

"Ay, Pablito, no need to be vulgar. Don't you think it's silly for you to be involving yourself in a little lover's quarrel at this time? Go inside and let me take care of my girlfriend." Martin took a step with every word he said, now less than a meter from Gavi, whose fists were curled and strained.

"Lover's quarrel? She's bleeding and had to run from you screaming. You've stolen her keys and now you want me to let you harass her further? Give me her keys and fuck off, before my patience runs out. Because I've been eager to bash your skull for weeks now."

Martin took another step forward, now on the same plane as you and Gavi. He locked Pablo's vision as he pulled your keys from his pocket, tossing them at your feet. You flinched at the noise scared to look up at Martin. Just the sound of his voice sent ripples through you.

"There, bonita. You have your keys back. Now enough of this nonsense and come with me." A fist curled into your hair and pulled you upwards, causing a scream to release from your throat. Gavi watched all of this happen in slow motion. He took two steps towards Martin, vision now fully red, and connected his closed fist with Martin's lower jaw. The accompanying CRACK could probably have been heard all the way in Madrid. The grip had disappeared from your head, and you used your last bit of strength to push yourself from the floor and run into Gavi's house, keys firmly in your grasp for protection. You peered through the window, catching Martin spit out a large glob of blood, more crimson dripping from his mouth like a dog drooling.

Martin wasn't provided much more time to recover as Gavi grabbed his collar, pulling him in once again, and again cracking him hard right beneath his eye socket. The delicate skin there split, and more blood oozed from Martin. It didn't bring Gavi disgust or joy. There was no space in his entire being to feel anything other than the need to protect you. Moving his grasp from Martin's collar to his hair, he hit him one final time, a bone split and a scream polluting the otherwise silent air of the Barcelona night. You thought to yourself, rather ironically, if the naked girl in his living room knew how to set a broken nose. Pablo pushed Martin to the ground, the older landing on his face sprawled across the concrete of the pavement.

"If you get up and you're not running, I'll break another bone."

Martin struggled to breath, the blood running away from his body in rivers, dripping onto the street.

"You little piece of shit! Just wait till I call the police! You'll be in jail until you're 70. You little cunt." Martin wailed, on his knees gripping his throbbing fractured nose. Gavi approached Martin, picking him up by the collar once again. It was quite a sight to behold: the younger and smaller boy lifting Martin off the ground, blood dripping from a broken nose on to Gavi's tensed forearm, as his hazel eyes conveyed murderous intent.

"In case the blood has already left your brain, allow me to remind you: the cameras saw you chasing a woman through the street. There is a decent amount of her blood on you and at your house. Everything from that moment on is self defense. And I can absolutely afford a better lawyer than you can, little boy. So best run and put some ice on that nose before you become more permanently deformed than you were originally." Martin was thrown to the pavement once again, cries of pain bouncing between the stone of the buildings. He picked himself off the ground, not daring to glance over his shoulder, as he hobbled back home.

Gavi took a deep breath, looking down at his hands in the light of the street lamp. It had been a long time since his anger was allowed to run wild. Usually there was a player (or 6) holding him back from blows. But that was football. Nothing was ever that serious in football. This was different. It was you. And as he entered his home, locking eyes with your huddled form by his couch, the thought appeared in his mind clear as crystal: you were someone he would kill for, and someone he would die for.

But now wasn't the time for such a confession. It was the time for Gavi to step up as your friend and provide you with comfort and support. He walked into the house and started to head for the bathroom before you called out to him.

"Pablo? Where are you going?" Your voice was small and fragile, like that of a scared child when the thunder got too loud. Keys still gripped tightly in shaky hands, you pushed yourself off the floor, and Gavi rushed to meet your stride, helping stabilize you as you stood. You were not close to fainting anymore, but the fear still pumped through you, making it harder to walk at more than a snail's pace. Eyes locking with Gavi's, you brought a hand up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it lightly to provide him with some reassurance that you were okay. Hand trailing down, you wrapped your fingers gently around his wrists, turning his hands over to look at his knuckles. The skin had cracked and burst from the impact against Martin's skull. Bruises bloomed on the high points, droplets of blood - owner unknown - littered his fingers and hand, the scarlet a contrast against his warm tan. As you ran a thumb over one of the open cuts, Gavi hissed, trying to pull away from your touch. You looked back up at him with tears welling in your eyes anew.

"You're hurt." You croaked out, not wanting to continue crying in front of him. He grabbed your hand, holding it against his as he rubbed over the drying cut through your palm.

"So are you. But we'll be okay." He smiled at you, and you could have sworn that there was an actual fist squeezing your heart in your chest. He pulled you towards the staircase with him.

"Come on, we need to wash our hands. You've taught me enough about infections to know we shouldn't wait much longer."

"I obviously haven't taught you enough, because for open cuts like this we need rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, not water."

Gavi stopped on the stairs, still gripping your wrist as his smile broke out, returning warmth to his face. Even when he had hit Martin, you hadn't feared Pablo. You knew the anger was residual, and he would never turn this harbored rage your direction. It had brought a few baby butterflies to your stomach, knowing that Gavi had thrown his tranquility and caution to the wind just to defend you. But this was the Pablo you liked the most: the one that smiled for you in a way that seemed to appear only when you were around.

"There you go, doctora. Putting that degree to use. I think I have a first aid kit in my room. The medics gave me one to keep after I got my second black eye." The statement, not meant as a joke, allowed a laugh to run through you, cutting through some of the lingering heaviness. You wondered if this experience would forever trauma-bond you to Gavi forever. But you knew subconsciously that Pablo was already bonded to you. You would never be able to look at the Barca crest or the dew on the grass or the chocolate milk in the store without thinking of Pablo. You would never be able to choose anyone else's contact at 2am to send a random text to, because you need Pablo to be the one to send the response. You knew in that moment that Pablo was going to be in your life forever.

Walking into his bedroom, Pablo peeled his blood-stained shirt off, tossing it onto the bed.

"You should..." Your sentence trailed off as Pablo faced you, shirtless with sweats hanging low on his hips, waistband of his boxers tight against the V of his torso. You had seen attractive men shirtless before, but something about it being Pablo, and the two of you being alone in his bedroom, made everything seem more charged and, for lack of a better term, sinful. He tiled his head in questioning, prompting you to finish your sentence. Clearing your throat, you looked at the shirt instead of Pablo and continued.

"You should put peroxide on that shirt now to get the blood out so it doesn't stain."

"I think getting some peroxide on your open wound is more important right now." He said, returning to his dresses to rummage around for his first aid kit. You stood awkwardly against the wall, unsure how to proceed. You didn't feel comfortable enough to sit on his bed, and though it would be weird to seat yourself on Gavi's floor. He turned back around, watching you scan the room and calculate if you should sit or stand.

"You're covered in blood." He said. You looked down at your shirt. You definitely had some splotches, but you wouldn't use the word covered.

"It's fine, I'll change when i get home..." You trailed off again. Your car was outside Martin's house, and there was no way you could possibly bring yourself to go back there tonight. Maybe Gavi would be kind enough to walk over with you in the dark.

"You're spending the night here. There's no way I'm going to let you be by yourself tonight. Let me get you something to change into." He said, moving past you towards the closet.

"Oh no, Pablo, it's fine. I should really go back to my place-"

"Why?" He asked, abruptly turning to face you. He walked towards you, and your heart rate picked up as he stood within your air space.

"Why do you need to go home? We are on international break for the season. I don't start training until next week. You just finished your finals, so you don't need to do anything tomorrow. And, more importantly, the only way to get to your house is to either go get your car from your psycho abusive ex and drive home at this time of night, which is not happening. Or for you to take a taxi home, which is also not happening. I'm not letting you out of my sight." He turned back to the closet, rummaging through his clothes before pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a La Masia t-shirt. Placing them in your hands, he turned back to his mission to find the first aid kit.

"The bathroom is through there. You can go and get changed and wash up. What's mine is yours."

Nodding, you shuffled towards the bathroom. The door was quickly shut and locked behind you, and you stared at yourself in the mirror. You definitely looked worse for wear, mascara smudged under your eyes, which were red and puffy from sobbing. You washed your face with your non-injured hand, thanking Pablo silently for owning a decent face wash. As you stripped off your dirty clothes, you couldn't help the images that flashed in your mind, and the thoughts that seeped through your subconscious. You remembered the daydreams you had for several weeks, bursts of his eyes and lips and hands, and thoughts of all the ways they could touch you. Your cheeks burned as you grabbed a washcloth, running cool water onto your skin to remove the sweat and grime lingering. You thought of that day on the couch, when you had finally entertained the idea of seeing Pablo in a sexually attractive light. Bumps raised onto your skin as you fully wrapped your head around the situation. You were in your underwear in Gavi's bedroom, only a bathroom door separating the two of you.

A part of you wanted to open the door - to present yourself to Pablo, physically and emotionally bare, and tell him your feelings. But what were your feelings? You felt safe with Pablo, supported, and able to be your authentic self. Was this a friendship that you had over committed to? Was Pablo treating you any differently to how he would treat Pedri or one of the boys? You pushed those feelings aside, slipping on his clothes, breathing the scent of his detergent in deeply. You took one last glance in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had a tendency to spontaneously combust when it came to relationships, and you wouldn't allow yourself to do that with Pablo. He was going to be in your life for a long time - you wouldn't accept anything otherwise - but maybe the role he was meant to fill was that of a close friend and never more.

You walked out and saw Pablo rubbing his bare chest with an alcohol pad, cleaning the excess blood from his chest. He had changed into some clean shorts, and turned to face you when he heard the door. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in the sight. His shirt hung off your shoulders slightly, draped over your frame and covering your form in worn cotton fabric. His sweats hugged your hips, sliding precariously low on your torso and lose in the thighs, just small enough for them to not pool at your ankles. Gavi's mouth went dry as he stared at you. You crossed your arms over your chest, covering yourself with your folded dirty clothes. Gavi caught a glimpse of your bra in the pile. He had no moisture in his mouth whatsoever.

"What are you staring at, Gavi? Close your mouth you'll catch a fly." You said, trying to come across cool and unbothered despite the situation. He swallowed hard, trying to form a single sentence.

"They fit. I'm surprised." That was all he could muster.

"Me too. I thought everything would be too short on me." You teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"Low blow, doctora. come help me with these bandages."

He sat on the floor with the first aid kit, and you joined him on the soft rug, protecting from the chill of the tile in December. You grabbed the different solutions and began cleaning his hands. His hands were rough and calloused to the touch, and you made a mental note to get him some lotion as a late Christmas gift. You moved slowly over each knuckle, cleaning the blood and bruises, gently moving your fingers across Pablo's skin. You heard gentle hisses at the burning sensation from the alcohol, but he kept his protests to a minimum as you worked.

It was easy for Gavi to distract himself from the pain when you were the one sitting in front of him. The burn of his hands was basically forgotten as he traced the curves of your face with his eyes. That familiar look of concentration settled into your features, warming Gavi's heart. You were coming back, in short bursts and fleeting moments, but everything he loved about you was still there. Try as he did, he could not prevent his eyes from moving lower, settling on his shirt draped over you. It was one of his most well-loved shirts - the one that he had gotten when he began playing for La Masia's senior team. This is when he started to bulk up, biceps and pecs stretching out the shirt, creating the baggy look he currently saw on you. The colors had faded from dozens of washes, and it was now pilling and threadbare - really something that should never see the light of day.

But here you were wearing it, and suddenly there was no article of clothing that had ever made a woman look sexier. The baggy fabric moved with you, and when you turned behind you to gram more gauze, it tightened against your bare chest, and Gavi willed himself not to focus on it. He couldn't - not right now. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't describe what about it made the shirt look so good on you. It was just the fact that it was his shirt. You were in his house, in his bedroom, wearing his shirt. You were merging with his space, and in a way, becoming a part of his home. It was the closest you had ever been to being his.

You finished bandaging his hands, looking at your work, and making sure that everything was secure so he wouldn't lose the dressings in his sleep. Engrossed in the moment, you leaned down and kissed the top of Gavi's knuckles, pulling back before realizing what you did. You both stared at each other, mutually deciding it was best not to comment on what just occurred. You quickly cleaned and dressed your own cut, with Gavi's assistance, and once the bandage was secured, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. All the boxes were finally ticked - you and Gavi were safe and clean and dressed, and now your body felt relaxed enough to crash from the exhaustion of the day. Pablo noticed your eyes drooping, and moved off the floor, helping you stand as well.

"Let me go get an extra blanket." He said, moving towards the door. You followed him out of the room, and he turned to you, confused.

"Where are you going?" He asked, arm against the wall and blocking your path.

"The other room?" You said, phrasing it as a question.

"The guest room doesn't have a bed in it yet. My sister is helping me pick one out since she visits the most often."

"To the couch, then." You said, and Pablo's eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.

"You're not sleeping on the couch. You've had a stressful day to say the least. You're going to sleep on the ridiculously expensive mattress and get a good night's rest."

"Then where are you going to sleep?" You asked, heart skipping a beat at some of the possible answers.

"The couch. I want to give you your space. Let me go get that extra blanket - the top floor gets cold in the winter."

You grabbed his arm stopping him from continuing down the staircase.

"You're not going to destroy your back by sleeping on the couch again. You're about to get called up for the national team, and their physios suck. They will replace you with a 3rd tier player before they help you fix a dorsal muscle strain. You have to sleep on the bed Pablo."

"I don't actually have to do anything. This is my house."

You both stared at each other, the two of you unmoving on your position, and both ignoring the obviously solution to your argument. After a minute, it was Pablo who was brave enough to make the suggestion.

"We could always just... both sleep on the bed. If you're comfortable with that. We can made a divider in the middle and everything."

Blushing, you looked at the floor before responding.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Gavi got into bed, shirtless in a pair of shorts, and beckoned you to join. You walked slowly to the other side of the bed, crawling in and pulling up the covers, body stiff and muscles tense.

"I forgot to get the lights." You whispered quietly, making a move to get up. Suddenly the lights switched off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness, a weak ray of light filtering in from the half-moon.

"Expensive houses have a lot of pointless features, but this one is actually useful." Pablo said quietly, mentally kicking himself for making small talk about a light switch. He curled on his side away from you, uncomfortable but wanting to give you your own space, and let out a deep breath. You peered at Gavi, and then curled the other way, also in discomfort, but too scared to face him while conscious. It was too much. He was so close: enough to hold in your arms, to exchange body heat, to listen to his heartbeat and be lulled to sleep. But it was too much of a leap to take. It was too far out of your comfort zone, and you couldn't risk the delicate relationship with a desperate and ill-timed proclamation of... whatever it was you were feeling.

Pablo's heart hammered in his chest. Though it had been his idea, he had never actually thought it through. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder before, and he had survived, so he figured this experience wouldn't be that much harder. He was so sorely mistaken. The fact that you were laying an arm's length away from him kept his nerves on fire, and he couldn't even keep his eyes closed for more than a minute as the time. Despite the winter chill, his body was on fire, and the lack of clothing didn't help. You had just been attacked by your ex boyfriend, and Gavi wanted to hold you in his arms and protect you from the entire world. Patience wasn't his best trait, but he knew that it wasn't the time to ask you to be his. He needed to wait. He needed to be there for you right now

"Pablo?"

An hour after the two of you had settled, lights off and room quiet, you called out for him. Sleep escaped the two of you, and he turned over almost instantly when he heard you whisper his name. Turning to face each other, your eyes adjusted so that you could look at his features in the dark. He was beautiful. There was no denying how conventionally attractive Pablo was. But there were so many little things that enhanced his beauty, only visible from this close. You wished the moon would shine a little brighter so that you could look at the flecks in his eyes, and count the lashes fluttering above them. His features were relaxed, lids drooping and lips slightly puffed out. The scars and moles on his face were the only markings on the smooth skin, and you longer to run your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

"Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything."

You sat up in bed, moving quickly before your confidence evaporated completely. You moved in to the center of the bed, prompting Gavi to do the same. He moved slowly and warily, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the middle of the King-sized island.

"Lay down," You said, voice shaking slightly. You were terrified, but you knew that was the only way you would ever find rest before the sun came up. Pablo laid down, stiff as a board, half expecting you to make a desperate dash for the couch. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes before you laid down beside him. You turned on your side, resting a hand on Gavi's chest. Pablo's eyes widened as he finally processed what your request was. He raised his arm, draping it over your shoulders, allowing you to cuddle even closer into his side. Your head now laid on his bare chest, his hammering heart loud in your ear. He brought his other arm around you as well, resting his hand over yours on his chest. The two of you held each other close, seemingly for dear life, and finally sighed out in belief.

There was no way to describe this feeling. The feeling of you resting against Pablo, arms and legs tangled together, with his head rested above yours. Your hands together, occupying each others' air. There was no way to describe it except for right. There was no awkwardness or strained breathing anymore. There was relaxation and comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. The rest of the world faded away, and in that moment, Pablo could have sworn that he had ascended to heaven.

"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."

Gavi tensed so hard it set off a headache. He couldn't cry, not while you were in his arms. He had always been seen as an asset because of his skill, always being told how valuable he was in that respect. But you saw him as a person, and not only did you tolerate it, but you cherished it. You made him proud to be himself.

"You too, in ways you can't even imagine. Good night, y/n."

~

Despite the way it started, the international and Christmas break was rather uneventful. Your little "sleepover" with Gavi saw the two of you sleeping in until 1pm, a rare occurrence for the both of you. Usually you both had too much going on, both on the schedule and in your minds, to sleep for such prolonged times. Wiser minds might have stopped and questioned why being in each others' arms brought a wash of such immense peace, but alas. There was no such reflection. Only waking up in the middle of the day, exchanging awkward smiled before getting up to change. Gavi had awoken with your leg draped across him and half an erection, causing him to bolt for the bathroom when you turned to check your phone. He wanted to say something - anything - about the night before. But he had promised to "forget", sealing his lips until further notice.

He turned the shower to the coldest setting, trying to stay silent as he killed his hard-on in the least loving way possible. You took the opportunity to slip into your sweats from the night before, and putting Gavi's t-shirt back on. Yours still had bubbled blood from the events and peroxide of the previous night. As you sorted out your hair, Gavi emerged from the bathroom, towel slung around his hips, showing off his toned chest and deep V once again. You lifted yourself and turned to face the wall, looking up at the Lord through the ceiling and asking why you were being faced with such temptation.

"Don't look." Pablo instructed, and you heard the towel thud to the floor. It make your cheeks burn and you crossed your legs tightly. You tried to think of anything else to stop yourself from taking your medical history with Gavi and constructing a complete mental image.

"Pedri is going to ... do you want a clean shirt?" Gavi asked, now in a clean sweatshirt and jeans. There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him borderline insane. He couldn't tell if he needed you to stop, or needed you to do it every day.

"Oh, no, this one is fine. Thanks again - I'll wash it and return it as soon as I can."

"You can keep it." Gavi replied, turning back to his closet. The last thing he needed was to become aroused whenever he saw the folded shirt in his house. He grabbed a sweatshirt and tossed it to you as well.

"Are you donating clothes to me now? My salary isn't that bad, Pablo." You laughed out as you caught it.

"It's December, doctora. You should know that it's not great to go out in the cold. Your hoodie is still in your car, so wear this for now. Speaking of - Pedri is on his way over. He's gonna drive your car back to your place, and we'll take his. That way you never need to go near that dick's house again."

You slipped the green sweatshirt over your head, and were instantly attacked with the smell of body wash and cologne. Gavi had worn this recently. You brought the sleeves up and took a deep breath again before rushing downstairs to follow Gavi. It was a one time occurrence - you wouldn't allow yourself to get close to Pablo like this again. You were coworkers, first and foremost.

The two of you climbed into Pedri's car, you in the driver's seat and Gavi in the passenger, fingers trembling as you took the familiar turns. You stopped about a block away, dropping Pedri off, and driving off to the café the three of you had agreed to meet at to avoid any chance of being followed. You made idle conversation with Gavi, the two of you feeling the obvious tension. Pedri brought you your car, and you left the boys, giving them both a quick hug goodbye before going home to process the insane 24 hours you just had.

The boys were headed back to Gavi's to pack before heading to Madrid for national team training. On the way home, Pablo bounced his leg, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows more than usual.

"Hermano," Pedri started, "whatever you need to say, please just say it."

"But I'm not supposed to."

"Then stop with the fucking anxious ticks! Either speak or stay silent, but don't drive me crazy. It's a long day." Pedri ended his scolding with a light laugh. He knew Pablo better than anyone, and could tell it was only a matter of time before the younger boy started to spill his guts. Gavi wanted to stay strong, holding the promise he made to you extra close to his heart and his honor, and picked up his phone to pass the time. He opened up his twitter, refreshing the feed.

"Oh fuck. I'm in trouble."

Yes, the break was rather uneventful. You filled your time with studying, revising medical plans, and watching the international matches on TV. You tried your best to stay inside to avoid seeing anybody. You were still mourning the end of your relationship with Martin. Despite the confirmation that Martin was borderline clinically insane, it still weighed heavily on you, day by day, that you had once again been cheated on. That you had once again molded yourself into the absolutely closest thing to perfection, and had again fallen short. The winter weather also made you more lethargic, less keen to go outside and interact with others. And finally, you were terrified of anyone on the street recognizing you.

In hindsight, you should have made Pedri just walk and get your car. Or you should have waited until you knew Martin wasn't home and done it yourself. Because the thing about Pedri's lush green mini Cooper was that is was one of the most recognized cars in Spain, and so girls would flock to every single one they saw. His car had been posted enough for the most dedicated to have the license plate committed to memory. So driving around in such a recognizable car with the most sought-after footballer in Spain might not have been the best idea - especially during the day when the window tints weren't as effective. It took less than an hour for you and Gavi's pictures to be circulated around fan accounts, with people commenting on everything. The fact that you were driving, the hoodie you were wearing, the way that Gavi looked at you- the list was endless.

It took another 4 hours for people to figure out who you were. @gaviraconcubine on twitter had thankfully recognized you as one of the physios from game clips, and informed the rest of the rabid mob. Some had been satisfied with the answer, while others believed this an even more damning piece of information.

@gaviraconcubine: ok so the girl Gavi was with in the car is one of the barca physios - all the squad follows her + some shots of her on the field ! Gavi nation we're safe ;P

4,788 Likes 2,003 Retweets 834 Replies

@barcabarcabarca : guys shes literally a staff member???? gavi cant talk to female staff now wtf

@mrspgavira : if he ignored all of us to fall in love with the first ugly ass girl he bumped into at work ill take a swim with a toaster

@88rizzing : so she just started w barca this szn and got gavi? alexa play mastermind

@loonastansbrazil : more drivers for gavi!! she too old to be his girl

Barca staff were on public record, and so by the end of the day, your social media, school, and entire life history had been published on social media for people to scrutinize. It had sent you spiraling, suddenly being at the center of extreme amounts of attention from teen girls and 45-year old Barca stans alike.

[Pablo]: hey

[Pablo]: im rlly sorry about all the stuff online

[Pablo]: it should all die down soon. will be done at 9pm and I can call you

So that's what you did. Cook, clean, study, watch football, and get in disguise if you ever needed to go out. You spent your evenings chatting with Gavi. First it was about the media circus that you two were going through.

"It'll die down eventually. I'll stand too close to another girl and then everybody will leave you alone."

"Or accuse you of being a cheater."

"Has enough time passed for us to make cheating jokes?"

But as your fears started to ease an your mentions dried up, the conversations went back to the casual, playful tone that always filled the air whenever you and Gavi conversed. It was easier to talk to Gavi than it was with anyone else. You still spoke to your other friends, checking in on Angelika periodically over text, but no one could fill an hour FaceTime call like Gavi could, making it feel like mere minutes. Often, the two of you were both lounging, you on your couch and him in whatever hotel bed the national team had provided. As the days went on, you grew more comfortable answering the phone sans makeup, showing the most natural parts of yourself to who was shaping up quickly to be your closest friend.

Returning to work after the break may have been harder than the break itself. The office was abuzz with the rumors about you and Gavi. For the first few days, you ignored all the chatter. You had seen enough online to know that not knowing was always better. You didn't care what anyone said about you, as long as you proved you were an asset to the team. That is until Antonio came into your office one day with a sealed envelope. He was finishing up with some loose ends in Barcelona, before making his way to the UK to start in Manchester after the January transfer window had closed. He walked into your office, a large manila envelope in hand, and placed it on your desk.

"What's this?" You asked, peering at it from behind your glasses. Antonio was not one to make jokes or pull pranks, so it confused you to see him now, giggling in your office like a school girl.

"Oh this? Nothing important. Just a backup plan. Now it's my turn to ask the questions." He said, coming around and sitting atop your desk.

"Is it true that you're sleeping with Gavi?"

~

It had been a long time since you had seethed with this much rage. First, shock and embarrassment flooded your veins, freezing you in place, leaving you like a deer in headlights before the question. Antonio's ringing laugh is what pulled you out of your trance. You quickly denied the rumor, stating that you and Gavi were friends, but everything remained strictly professional.

"We heard you went to his house after the last home game before the break, and didn't leave until the following day, and wearing his clothes as well! You don't have to lie to me, I won't tell Dr. G or Xavi. So how was he?"

You promptly instructed Antonio to get the hell out of your office, and you made a move to head to the practice field. How dare Gavi: tell people you slept together when you did nothing of the sort. Well, you did something of the sort, but not in that way! Your job was already in jeopardy as it was, and it didn't help your case to be allegedly sleeping with one of the players. Talk about acts that increase favoritism. As you turned to corner to head to the field, you were met with a hard chest instead. Looking up, you saw the one face you had been trying to avoid all week: Ferran.

"My favorite little nurse. I haven't seen you since before the break. How have you been?" His arms were crossed over his chest, smirk and arrogance across his face. He blocked your path, and you sighed before responding.

"I don't have time to chat, Ferran. I was headed to the practice field to speak to-"

"Gavi? Yeah, I don't think so. My hamstrings need work. You're coming with me."

You followed closely behind, annoyance bubbling in your throat as you followed Ferran to your office. He laid on the examination bed as you closed the door, using the small sink to wash your hands, and donning a pair of clean gloves as he rolled up his shorts and laid on his stomach.

"So sad to hear about you and Martin, y/n. You two really did make a cute couple. I saw him at the end of the break - he's really looking quite worse for wear."

Uncapping your athletic salve, you started working the mixture between your fingers before moving to Ferran's thigh.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're a cheater. Usually quite a deal-breaker in a relationship."

You had resolved no to speak to the striker on your table, knowing that everything he said would only egg you on further, creating more opportunities for you to slip up and be unemployed. But there was something in you that Martin had broken, no, stolen, that made staying silent astronomically more difficult than it had been. So your tongue release from your cheek quicker than you could process, and you steeled yourself once again to work on his legs. What were his legs even tired from? It's not like he was playing regularly.

"You know that there's more than one way to cheat on a person, right?" Ferran questioned, folding his arms to get more comfortable on the table. You shifted your eyes to look at him, one brow raised in confusion. Your lip curled up in disgust, and again your found yourself speaking without intention.

"I don't want to hear about all the different ways he cheated on me. I know you two are friends or whatever, but I'm not interested in the rest of his dirty laundry."

"I'm not talking about Martin. The other cheater in question is you."

Movements slowing, you locked eyes with Ferran, who held your gaze with confidence - like he was holding all the cards, and you were none the wiser.

"I didn't go around sleeping with other people while I was in a committed relationship." You deadpanned, not enjoying how the morning was progressing.

"Right, that was Martin - how unoriginal if you both did the same thing. He went around and slept with a couple other girls to satisfy his base desires. It's bad, but what you did is much worse, little nurse."

You tore your gaze away from Ferran, working his legs with new vigor, restraining yourself from just grabbing onto the flesh and squeezing until he screamed out in pain.

"This is not a professional topic of conversation and you shouldn't bring it into the workplace." You replied, but your voice had started to waiver.

"Oh yes it is, because it revolves around one of your coworkers. While Martin was out working and training an doing other things - or other people - you were also being unfaithful. Sure you didn't sleep with someone, but you were in a 'committed relationship', as you put it, when you started to fall for Pablito."

You pulled your hands away from Ferran like he had spontaneously combust, running from the flames. The look of bewilderment was not one you could suppress in that moment. Your throat had gone completely dry, but you knew the longer you remained silent, the more Ferran would interpret it as a confirmation of his theory.

"That's - it's not true. Gavi and I are coworkers, friends if you really want to push it. It's highly inappropriate for you to assume otherwise. Look I know you want me to lose-"

"Lose your job?" Ferran laughed callously. "Oh no, hermosa. I love seeing you run around here in those tight scrubs, hair pulled back - you're like my own personal masseuse. I just hate when some people get special treatment. And you and Pablito haven't exactly been subtle."

"There's nothing going on between-"

"Bullshit. What kind of employee is willing to come in early and work unpaid hours for just another member of the squad? He's the only one with your personal number. You drive him home after practice. Everyone knows that those hours he spends locked away after national team training, he's talking to you. For fuck's sake, you hadn't even been broken up with Martin for a day before you spent the night at his place!"

Eyes locked with the floor, your breathing quickened as Ferran's words too root in you. Did everyone think this way? Was it a common assumption that you harbored "special feelings" for Gavi? He continued without allowing you to recover.

"So you can get on your high horse and spew your woes about how your boyfriend slept with someone else. But you let little Pablito get access to the deepest, most intimate parts of your soul, and despite having a boyfriend, you let yourself love him. You let yourself love Gavi the night you watched him throw up outside the club, young and stupid and delirious, and yet you let Martin think he had a chance to be your man, your one, your soulmate. That's what most people would call emotional cheating. And it still makes you a shit person."

Your temples pounded, headache coming on from the lack of air in your system. You couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't process the information being thrown at your brain. Had Ferran been present that first night at the club half a year ago? Had someone else remembered you, recounting the details to everyone involved? Did Gavi know that you were there, and had seen him in that state? Antonio's question from earlier flashed in your mind, and though you had assumed Gavi's lips had gotten loose, the real culprit was sitting in front of you buttered like a turkey. Everything else would have to wait - because you might lose your job if you didn't get this question answered.

"Have you been telling people I slept with Gavi?" You asked, the pain in your voice clinging to every word.

"I haven't been telling people anything that isn't true. I may have mentioned to a couple of the second-team players that you and Martin had broken up. I may have also mentioned that when I went to console my physically and emotionally battered friend, I watched you and Gavi leave his house, together, and you were in his clothes. Well, I didn't really need to provide that one, did I? The pictures are everywhere. And maybe there was a thing or two about how Martin has always been wary of Pablito, who seemed to always go out of his way to be at your beck and call. People connected their own dots."

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You asked, voice desperate as you ripped of your gloves, coming around the table to face the slippery eel that was Ferran Torres directly.

"Why can you not stand the sight of me so much that you need me to lose everything I've worked for my whole life?"

The smirk was glued to his face, and the mal intent in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

"Just because I like watching you squirm. And if they fire you, it's no worry to me at all. The team managers are already embracing this 'diversity' thing, so another bubbly, bouncy little thing in scrubs will be in swiftly to take your place."

Ferran got up, readjusting his training uniform and making his way to the door. You couldn't speak. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball behind your desk. The entire staff thought you were sleeping with Gavi, and the thoughts spiraled onward. Did they think that's why you hadn't gotten fired after Ferran's complaint? Did anyone think you were qualified beyond just a toy for one of the players?

"I would steer clear of Gavi, hermosa. No more late drives, no more sleepovers. Rumor has it, word's gotten all the way up to Xavi. Would hate to have to give him confirmation that you two are more than friends. Because then you'd be looking for physio jobs in the village football teams."

"But we're not." You replied, voice strained and broken.

"Then keep it that way."

~

Since Pedri's nonexistent project with Adidas had ended, he was back to giving Gavi rides. It's not that he minded - the younger boy was always talkative and good company. But It was the waiting around that made Pedri want to scream. For the entire time they had been on international leave, you were the only thing Pablo thought about and spoke of, filling any silent moments sending messages to as a precursor for your nightly calls. Pedri was mistaken in thinking this teenage lovesick behavior would cease once they returned to Cam Nou.

Every day after practice, Gavi would move at the most glacial, snail-like pace just to time his exit with yours, accompanying you on the walk to your car. Today was no different. As Gavi took his time in the locker room doing Lord knows what, Pedri caught a glimpse of you speeding down the corridor. He wanted to greet you, to ask if you were okay, but he couldn't get the words out before you rushed past him. He turned into the locker room and yelled at his passanger.

"Hurry up hermano! She already left!"

[6 Missed Calls]: Gavi

You ignored the buzz of your phone on your table as you curled into yourself, tears streaming down your face. It was beyond what you could bear. You had sacrificed so much throughout your life to get the "dream" you were supposed to be living now: perfect life in a perfect city, with your perfect job and perfect friends. But all of it had been set ablaze. Your apartment had never felt lonelier or colder, as you looked at the chairs that had never been used, the floor that only you walked on. Since leaving America you found yourself with few to no friends. You never went out or saw anyone, dedicating yourself to excelling in your program. The only friend you ever had over was Angelika, and even she had not graced your home for weeks upon weeks. You had isolated yourself from everyone to make sure you were perfect at work - never tired or hungover, never a thread or hair out of place. Now you were friendless and single, curled up on your couch, cursing every decision you had ever made.

The last person you wanted to see or speak to was Pablo. Pablo, who had entered your life so suddenly, and taken up residence in your brain and heart, was the sole common thread between everything crumbling around you. You willed yourself to be angry with him. You tried your hardest to blame him for every misfortune that had come your way. Your lack of friends, many of whom distanced themselves when you started working for Barca under a perception that you were "too good for them". Your waning relationship with Angelika, which began when Pablo started to tunnel his way into your life, consuming more and more of your time. Your failed relationship with Martin, which was perfectly stale and stable before Gavi showed you what it was really like to be made a priority. The current precarious state of your job, it was his fault, because of his consistent fighting with Ferran, which provoked him to file his empty complaint.

You wanted to curse Gavi and the day you had met him, but you couldn't do it. You couldn't bring yourself to even have an ill thought about Pablo. All you could do was curse yourself. You had known deep down for so long how you really felt. From that night you spoke to him in the club, identity yet unknown, but all his vulnerability on display, you had known that there was something pulling you into his orbit. You had known that the hoops you jumped through for him were special, and not inconveniences you would shoulder for anyone else. You had known when you searched for him on the field, in your contacts, in your subconscious that no one would ever bring you this much peace. His eyes, his words, the energy that radiated from him were rarities, seen once in a lifetime, and often squandered by those to late to grab them. And so you sat on your couch, tears pouring down your face as the realization enveloped you, too great to hide any longer: Pablo Paez Gavira was your best friend, and you were heart-achingly, soul-crushingly in love with him, but you would never be able to do anything about it.

Gavi had given up after 6 missed calls and 18 unanswered text messages. He knew that you would call him when you were ready to do so, but the anxiety gnawed at him nonetheless. He couldn't stand the thought of you upset, and would move heaven and earth just to make sure you were doing fine. He was currently checking his phone for notifications ever 30-45 seconds, leg once again bouncing - much to Pedri's dismay. The two of them, accompanied by Alejandro and Eric, were at a restaurant catching up with some friends. Gavi paid no mind to anyone. He was too preoccupied to engage in idle conversation. Rather, he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice -no , your breathing even, to calm his worries.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the screen. A short blond stood before him - one of Eric's friends - and she spoke directly to him, asking questions about his age and if he also played for the club. Unhappy with the interruption, Gavi gave quick and curt responses, trying to avoid a prolonged conversation. This did not deter the girl, who introduced herself as Jacinta, from getting Gavi's undivided attention, as she sat beside him, legs pressed against each other, and rested a hand on his thigh. Before he could react, he heard the gasp of his name, swiveling around to find several teenage girls huddled by the front of the restaurant, phones out and whispering to each other. Gavi had lost his appetite, excusing himself and taking a taxi back to his, checking his phone frequently as he prayed for you to give him any indication that you were alive.

Your phone rang once again, and the tone echoing through your apartment was one you welcomed eagerly: Angelika's. You had not heard from her in the last month, trying to give her enough space to do her work, while still reminding her you were there for support.

"Angelika! It's so good to hear from you."

"I'm moving to Paris."

Your face fell as you turned the words over in your mind.

"You're...what?"

You sat up on the phone, listening to Angelika explain how she had impressed her colleagues, being promoted to their Paris office to work on more couture and avant-garde looks. She gushed about what an amazing opportunity it was as you tried to stop yourself from throwing up. How was it that you were losing everything in your life all at once.

"That's so amazing, Ange."

That was all you could muster, deciding to be a good friend and leave your worries and fears to the side, letting her bask in the triumph of her accomplishment. You responded with how proud you were, how much she deserved this, and how you knew she would do amazing things.

"Does Gavi have a girlfriend?"

The sudden mention of Gavi's name alone was enough to knock the wind out of you, but the context of the question really threatened to have you spill your guts on the rug.

"Not that I know of." You said, the feeling of dread dripping into your gut like tar.

"One of the Barca fan pages just posted a pic of him with some girl at dinner. Look I just sent it. I didn't know he was old enough to be getting girls like that. You two are friends, right?"

Your eyes were instantly drawn to the blonde girl's hand on Gavi's thigh. She wasn't his girlfriend. If anyone were to know that Gavi were in a committed relationship, it would be you. But this knowledge didn't help the wounded feeling that settled into you. You were home, pining after this little footballer, as he effortlessly flirted with other women. You were once again in pieces over a man that did not think of you the way you thought of him.

"Yeah, we're friends, I guess."

You would never be more than Gavi's physiotherapist and someone he occasionally sent Tiktoks to. Gavi was a deity in his field, a name that struck fear and respect in the hearts of the opposition. He was a symbol of the next generation of football royalty, and a man that could have any woman at his feet with a lick of his lips and a wave of his hand. This is what he was destined for: days in the spotlight, photographs with mysterious beauties, and a loyal fanbase that worshipped his every move. None of that involved you: an employee. Why would he want you? There was nothing you could give him that didn't come in a prettier package. He would never look at you as more than a friend, because you walked with the common crowd, and he was among the elite. Gavi could have any girl that he wants, and it was obvious he didn't want you.

You moved from the couch and walked to your table, waking up the computer that sat upon it. You glanced at the envelope Antonio had slid to you earlier, and thought about his offer. What did you have left? You typed a quick email to Xavi requesting a brief meeting the following morning, before heading to bed, trying to sleep away the suffocating feeling that clung to you.

~

Gavi was at your office door when you walked in the following morning, despite you arriving 20 minutes earlier than usual. His arms were crossed, face scrunched in worry, but his features relaxed when you walked to the door. He tried to help you with your belongings, but you refused. You exchanged a dry good morning before entering your office, avoiding his gaze. He asked how you were feeling, and if anything had happened the previous day. Eyes glued to your computer, you responded shortly, informing him that everything was fine and that you had a meeting with Xavi you needed to prepare for.

"Doctora, did I do something?"

You finally looked at Gavi, taking in his pained expression. It hurt in ways medicine understand for you to be freezing him out like this, and yet, all you could do was think about the image of Gavi coupled with Ferran's words. Was it worth it to risk everything for someone who would never be yours? You shook you head, informing him again that everything was fine. Everything was far from fine: you felt like you had been thrown off a cliff, your sense of purpose and direction and meaning in life shattered. But you didn't want to burden Gavi with this knowledge. So you stood and collected your folders, lips pursed tightly. You would just have to pretend that you weren't desperate to confess to Pablo that he was the reason that you breathed air, and that you were focused on your meeting and nothing else.

He was not satisfied with your answer. Gavi searched for your eyes, trying to understand what he could have possibly done wrong to get you to change on him so quickly - to become so cold. But you refused to meet his gaze, and he was left to his own theories. Had the rumors of you two together repulsed you from him? Were you unable to look him in the eye now that someone had put the thought in your head that you two could be more than friends? Had you finally decided you were too mature and good for him? He had chewed his lips and inner cheek all night pondering these possibilities.

"Please, y/n, if I did something, let me make it right."

"Gavi." Bad sign. You never called him Gavi when you were happy with him. Gavi was his official name in the team, the professional term you addressed him by. His stomach sank, and everything in him screamed to take you into his arms, not letting you go until he once again heard the sweet sound of "Pablo" drip from your lips like honey.

You wanted to grab him and shake him, scream at him, and cry into his shoulder. You wanted to tell him that there was no way for him to make it right, unless he was ready to have you, wholly and completely, never letting you go no matter the consequences. You wanted to tell him the only thing that could fix it was the one thing you could never ask for: his love.

"I need you... to stay away from me for a while."

Gavi could swear e felt his heart crack in two. What could he have possibly done? What heinous crime had he committed that made you need such a high degree of separation. He had been right there: he had you in his arms, laid on his chest, and heartbeat synching with his own. Now, everything was slipping through his fingers like fine sand, and he was watching you disappear before his very eyes.

"Not because I'm angry with you, but I just... need space."

Gavi could do nothing but stare, mouth agape, begging every power that be for this to be a cruel joke. But you continued to shuffle your papers, and the punchline never came. Before he could form a response, a knock resounded from the door, and Xavi walked into the office.

"Gavi, you're here early." He said, eyebrow raised at you in suspicion. The young footballer swallowed this hurt and his pride, clearing his throat to speak.

"Yeah, just came to get some more medical tape. Doctora y/l/n told me we have some in the locker room. I'll be going now."

Gave left your office, shutting the door behind him, but he could not move. He leaned against the wall, trying to fill his lungs with air, but the breaths he took didn't feel like enough. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he was reminded of his childhood, when the other boys would bully him and push him around the field. That was the last time he properly cried of pain. It was happening now, for the first time in 11 years, but this was a different kind of pain. There were needles pricking every inch of his skin, and he could do nothing except let the pain overtake him. What could he have possibly done to push you away?

He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of Xavi's voice through the door. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he needed to hear you. He needed to listen to you speak, hear the normalcy in your voice, if he ever wanted to move from that God forsaken spot in front of your door.

"-a little late notice. You should try and schedule further in advance for coming meetings." Xavi said. It was unusual for Gavi to hear you be scolded. When had you asked to meet him?

"I apologize, mister, but it was all some very late occurrences, and I didn't want to delay."

"Alright then, go ahead."

"As you know, we are about 10 days into the January transfer window, and while players are getting offers from all over, this is also the time when clubs try and change staff."

Pablo put a hand over his mouth to cover any sounds he made and prevent himself from vomiting. He didn't like where this was going.

"Yes, I'm aware." Xavi responded. "Antonio is leaving us during this window."

"Exactly. That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. Antonio, as we all know, is a very talented physiotherapist and sports medic, meaning he got offers from a number of clubs. He received a position as head of physiotherapy at Chelsea, which he had to reject obviously to join Man City. Yesterday, he graciously got the offer forwarded to me."

"Miss y/n, please clarify your intentions. I am not very good at understanding subtext." Xavi laughed out.

"Yes sir. I'll be direct then: I am considering leaving F.C. Barcelona at the end of the transfer window."

~~~~~~~

A/N: guys pls don't kill me I'm sorry for the end (not rlly lol). I hope you all enjoyed what is officially the longest part of the series to date!! Got close to my 15k goal, but not there yet - maybe in the next part. My hands are actually cramping from all the writing this is borderline self-inflicted torture lol. Did y'all catch the subtle title/ lyric references? As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! Esp watching the way people think the story is going to progress because sometimes y'all are spot on and sometimes y'all are wayyyy off and I'm like "wait that would actually be a great plot for another series". Anyways love you all and hope you enjoy!! Part 8??? She's gonna be intense y'all.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*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

[pinkamour1588]

Red, White, and Royal Blue Masterlist

**=NSFW

Fics

All links to AO3 unless noted otherwise.

Jealous of a goddamn...Wait. What?**

Rating: E Word count: 1,704 Summary: The second the door closed behind them, Alex was shoving Henry back against it. “Hello to you too, dear,” Henry laughed. “Fuck you and your polo playing.”

Blue

Rating: T Word count: 2,567 Summary: Sometimes the bad days come when they're least expected.

Bloom**

Rating: E Word count: 5,288 Summary: It wasn’t that Alex hadn’t considered it in the year and half they’d been dating. It was more that he didn’t consciously consider it until the thought crossed his mind too many times to ignore. Or Alex wants to try bottoming.

Darling

Rating: T Word count: 1,038 Summary: Sometimes Alex needs a little help taking care of himself because ADHD is a bitch.

Comfortitties (link to fic on AO3)

Rating: T Word count: 283 Summary: Alex has a unique way of relieving stress after work one day.

Pressure Points**

Rating: E Word count: 1,020 Summary: Alex discovers he enjoys a little deep pressure therapy in times of stress.

Spreading Book Cheeks**

Rating: E Word count: 3,002 Summary: “I won’t say it again…If I get to spread a different set of cheeks.” Aka Alex makes a bad joke and they end up in the bedroom

Invincible

Rating: T Word count: 7,807 Summary: Reasons Henry will be fine: 1. He’s been playing polo for years. 2. He’s definitely fallen off a horse before. 3. Even though he’s fallen off a horse before, he was fine afterwards. 4. He wears the best protective gear money can buy. 5. He’s Henry. 6. He has to be fine.  Or Henry gets injured while playing polo.

Forever

Rating: T Word count: 1,734 Summary: As soon as Henry laid eyes on Alex, he felt his eyes well up with tears. He rushed down the staircase, meeting Alex halfway and immediately grabbing hold of him. His knees gave out and he pulled Alex down with him onto the steps. OR An extended version of the staircase scene. *Additional note: exclusively movie universe, not the book universe

In the middle of the night...

Rating: T Word count: 1,587 Summary: “Hey, Henry. Are you awake?” Alex asked, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. “Unfortunately,” Henry sighed into his pillow. OR Alex asks ridiculous questions when he can't sleep.

Never Forget You

Rating: T Word count: 3,637 Summary: Henry always visits Arthur's grave on the anniversary of his death, but what happens when he can't?

Doesn't have to be Louis V

Rating: T Word count: 1,028 Summary: “They’re just a little…much sometimes.” Henry frowned. “What do you mean?” “You buy me a lot of stuff, babe.” “No, I don’t.” Or Henry's love of buying Alex random gifts becomes a bit much.

Headcanons

Henry & the Spanish language

Alex & the shelter

Firstprince Sticky Notes

Henry and Philip's friend from uni

[all-risejd]

A New Judgment Chapter 6: The Dinner and Some Questions (A Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Rhea turns towards the door that Nessa and Damien just entered through and a look of relief comes across her face. Nessa sees Dominik pacing and muttering under his breath in Spanish. "Oh, thank god, he won't listen to a word we say and can't understand a word he is saying," Rhea tells Damien. Nessa goes to stand between Rhea and Finn as Damien goes over and starts to talk to Dominik the conversation clearly heated.

"Dominik is bitching about me putting myself in harm's way, about his dad not being careful with me and is unhappy with the story Triple H wants us to do because the drama is real and not just a story." Nessa roughly translates and continues as they do. "Damien is just trying to calm him down and to not go after Rey because it was an accident..." Nessa trails off as Dominik begins to spout off specifics as to why it was not ok for Rey to grab her like that. Nessa's eyes go wide, and she jumps over and grabs Dominik's face, "Dominik, you need to stop and calm down. You are telling MY past to someone I barely know. That is my story to tell, not yours. I am fine physically and mentally, now will you calm the fuck down before I have to have Mami beat the shit out of you again" She tries to lighten the mood with a joke from the story last year that started it all. She feels him deflate, her hands still on either side of his face as he nods his head.

Rhea, Finn, and Damien share a knowing look and smile. Glad she was able to stop Dominik from spiraling and doing something he'd regret. "I'm sorry Nessa, truly for that and everything else." He apologizes again and she huffs, her hands dropping to her side.

"Dom I forgave you, I'm letting you rebuild a relationship and trust with me you can stop apologizing." She flicks his nose gently and laughs as he scrunches it up, his bad mood effectively broken.

"I know, but I don't think I can forgive myself." He glances at his partners who discretely gesture for him to continue then act like they are engrossed in their phones so they can talk sort of privately.

"Dom, forgive yourself. Don't beat yourself up, that is my job and I don't want to." Nessa tries to joke again but frowns as he doesn't even crack a smile that time.

"Look, since you are going to be traveling with us, let's go to dinner before returning to the hotel and I can give you that explanation I owe you now instead of later." He asks, grabbing her hand giving her puppy eyes.

"Dom, I would but I am going to dinner with Luis. We need to talk about our storyline among other things." She explains and he glances in Damien's direction before letting out a soft

"Oh..."

"Hey where are you all going till Monday since it's only a few days?" She asks coming up with a plan.

"We are driving up to Seattle and will spend a few days there. After Raw we are going to New York at Luis place until we fly out to Smackdown on thursday." He explains, still glancing between Nessa and Damien confused.

"Ok how about this I ride with you and we can talk then is that ok Dom?" She offers and gently grabs his chin so he will look at her. He nods again agreeing with the plan. She turns to the rest of the group. "I know you were listening, is that plan alright with you guys too?" She addresses them and gets a chorus of agreement.

"Are you rooming with me tomorrow in Seattle?" Rhea asks, winking at her.

Nessa rolls her eyes. "You already know the answer. Yes, I am. He wants us rooming together."

"And you are ok with that?" Rhea tries to make sure Nessa is comfortable.

"Why wouldn't I be Demi? You respect my boundaries. It doesn't make me uncomfortable to share a room with you." Nessa shakes her head.

"I just wanted to be sure babe," Rhea shrugs and goes back to her phone and tweets about the show. Damien puts his phone away and stands up and grabs his bag to go into the bathroom to change, Finn following suit. "Dom why don't you go change with the boys and let Nessa change. I'll knock on the door when she is done, I know it'll be cramped I'm sorry." Rhea strongly suggests gesturing to the bathroom the other two men are in.

"Yeah, uh, sorry Ness." He mutters again and disappears in the bathroom.

"You know I'm not changing right? I'm just going to throw on a jacket till I'm back at the hotel." Nessa looks at Rhea who is looking at her like she is crazy.

"You are going on a date with Damo? Wearing that? No I don't think so." Rhea stands up and goes through Nessa's bag.

Nessa stands stock still, the air pulled out of her lungs. "It. It's not a date, I, uh, wha?." Nessa stutters.

"Oh relax Nes, I'm just messing with you. Finn was right, you are too easy to rile up. I honestly thought I fucked up when I texted you good girl." Rhea tries to calm her down and get reassurance for herself..

"No that was fine honestly that did something," Nessa admits, blushing. She snaps her head towards the crashing sound that just came from the bathroom.

"Everything ok in there boys?" Rhea calls out hearing two ' yes 's and Damien's deep voice grumbling something they can't make out.

"A-ha." Rhea cheers as she finds the corset top Nessa wore at Wrestlemania.

"You can keep the pants on, they are fine but here put this on I'll turn around." Rhea hands it over and turns around dramatically covering her eyes. Nessa rolls hers as she does as told knowing it is no use arguing she won't win this fight.

Once she has the corset snapped in place she calls out, "Hey Demi can you tie it for me, I'm a little too sore to do it myself from earlier." Nessa admits holding the front so she doesn't spill out over the top.

Nessa hears Dominik call out, "Oh come on" and she snickers, guessing what he is thinking. Rhea quietly comes over and tightens up the back of the corset, unnaturally quiet for the first time since Nessa met her.

"Hey you ok?" Nessa asks and she hears Rhea take a breath and swallow before answering.

"Yeah, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable while I did this for you." Rhea pats Nessa's shoulders letting her know she is done and Nessa turns around.

"I'm fine, I was more uncomfortable with the sudden silence, I thought I upset you." Nessa responds watching as Rhea goes over and knocks on the bathroom door, the boys spilling out shoving each other.

Finn nods in approval of Nessa's outfit. "You look good Ness, not that you don't always look good It's just you, gah" Dominik tries to compliment before running his hand down his face.

"I get what you are trying to say Dom relax we've been over this, please stop trying to walk on eggshells around me." Nessa throws the shirt she changed out of at him.

Damien just laughs at Dominik getting flustered before addressing Nessa, "He is right you look divine," He eyes Nessa up and down and she quirks her eyebrow up at him again.

"And you look fine!" She shoots back and he can't tell if she means just fine or the compliment FINE. Dominik laughing tells him it's the former.

"What... what's wrong with what I'm wearing?" He holds his arms out and turns around showing off his Jeans, slayer t-shirt and Jacket he is wearing over it.

"Nothing" Nessa shrugs and grabs her jacket and purse and tries to grab her bag but Dominik beats her to it.

"Nuh-uh, you don't carry your luggage around us, we do it for you and Mami."

"Dom, I'm not at the same hotel as you so give me my luggage." Nessa holds her hand out to grab the handle only for Damien to reach over and grab it, putting it on top of his since it is just a small carry on bag, daring her to argue with a look like she did to them earlier. Nessa huffs and stomps her foot, aggravated but thankful nonetheless.

Finn laughs at her reaction. "Get used to it love you won't win that argument ever." Finn warns.

"You ready Mamita, I'm hungry." He stands up grabbing the handle of their bags and gestures towards the door.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow Dom, pick me up at my hotel yeah?" She asks verifying the plan with him and he smiles.

"Yeah see you then Nes!" Dom calls.

Nessa walks with Damien to where his rental car is, making silly small talk along the way. Once they get to the car Nessa goes to open the passenger door and stops when Damien clears his throat. She turns to look at him, he is standing with his arms crossed looking annoyed. "What do you think you are doing mamita?"

"Uh, getting in the car?" She answers sarcastically.

"Let me get that for you," He steps forward and reaches out to grab the handle only for Nessa to smack his hand away.

"I can open the door myself." She answers trying to open the door but Damien holds it closed and leans closer to her, she doesn't back down.

"Not while we are around you don't. We open doors for women around here. It's the respectful thing to do." He tries to explain.

"And if she wants to open her own doors?" Nessa yanks again but it is no use he is much stronger than she is.

"Then she deals with it and lets us treat her right. Do I need to have a talk with Dominik about how to treat a lady?" Damien quirks an eyebrow.

"No, he always insisted but I always beat him to the car. Seriously, why are you so insistent." She groans not giving up on tugging on the door yet.

"Because my mother raised me right, now do you want to eat or not because I can do this all night." He stares down at her, and she pulls her hand back and steps back both hands in the air in a temporary surrender.

Damien opens the car door, and she gets in and buckles up, "This isn't over Luis!" She calls out as he closes the door gently and Nessa rolls her eyes. He puts their luggage in the trunk and gets in the car.

"What sounds good hermosa?" He asks as he starts the car.

"A good burger honestly." She answers and he hums in agreement and pulls out of the parking lot.

"I will open my doors, you know. You won't win this." She all but challenges him.

"That's cute, mariposa." He taunts and she glares at him.

"What is cute?"

"That you think you win this" He laughs as he pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant.

"Oh it's on." She tries to open the door but it is locked and Damien full belly laughs.

"I told you, you won't win this." He gets out of the car smiling as she tries to open the door and can't. She huffs waiting for him to open the door. He winks as he opens the door and holds it open. She gives him a gentle shove once she is out of the car.

"Did you turn on the child lock on the door!" She asks incredulously. He only laughs, throwing his arm around her shoulders. They get to the door of the building and Damien smiles like the cat that ate the canary and opens the door for her, she steps in and tries to reach for the second door only for his giant frame to dwarf her and reach it first and yank it open. She looks up at him, "You are a very persistent person." She grumbles and enters the building stopping at the hosts podium and he laughs again, amused at her frustration.

Once they are seated and their food ordered they sit in a semi-awkward silence, Nessa not knowing what to say or how to ask what she wants to ask. "So you wanted to talk, Hermosa." He takes a sip of his drink waiting on Nessa to start.

"Yeah, I just don't know how to ask what I want without it sounding judgemental or rude..." She starts wringing her hands and Damien frowns, noticing this is a common occurrence for her.

"Just ask, I promise I won't get offended or upset. It is coming from a place of genuine curiosity." He soothes, reaching over the table to grab her hand. She can't help but blush at the sweet gesture even though she pulls back her hands, needing to keep them busy somehow.

"Ok uh, how does it work?"

"How does what work sweetheart? I need a specific question to be able to answer." He leans forward so she can ask as quietly as she wants so she can limit her embarrassment.

"You are all romantically together, how does that work? I just want to understand." She averts her eyes and starts chewing her thumbnail.

"Hey, it's alright hermosa." He reaches over and grabs her hand again and rests it on the table still in his grasp so she can't chew on her nails more.

"Yes, and it works because there are boundaries that we respect and do not cross. It is discussed at the beginning of the relationships to make sure it is right for them. We have different sexualities and preferences, kinks even. But that's not necessary to the conversation right now."

"Oh ok. So can you explain what it means that you all are romantically together? I am having a little trouble wrapping my head around it." She gestures her free hand around in a circle. Damien smiles at her, happy with her openness to learn.

"Do you have a pen in that black hole you carry?" He asks, trying to ease her discomfort with a joke. She lets out a shaky laugh and hands him a pen and he grabs a napkin and writes down four names.

"Ok so here is me I am dating Demi, Finn and Dom," He draws arrows from him to the other three and continues. "It is the same for them so we are all connected to each other." He looks at her to see her reaction.

"And how are decisions made, living situations, group dates, individual dates? Demi offered for me to join you. How would that change things? She starts rattling off questions.

"Woah, slow down mamita one question at a time and to answer some of them I'll need to ask a few questions. I'll need the truth as well." He tells her meeting her gaze and he can tell she is still nervous but nods her head in agreement. "Ok decisions are made together, we all have to agree or compromise until we agree. Telling you so quickly was one of our quickest decisions. For your second question. We don't always stay with each other, sometimes we need our own space. Most of the time however we take turns. Dom has a pretty small place, so we aren't there often. Demi and Finn have the biggest place so we go there pretty often. Sometimes one of us needs space or we all need space so we go on our own." He pauses again to gauge her reaction and she nods her head following along, "We do individual dates with each other and sometimes big dates but those have to be careful at least for now because of work." He smiles at her acceptance. He sees her relax the more he explains. It, so he continues, "Now to answer your last question I have a few of my own. Would you be able to be romantic with Dominik again?"

Nessa swallows her bite of food before answering. "Honestly yes, I still love him, I never stopped. There is just some trust to build back again." She takes a drink to try to clear the dryness forming in her mouth.

"We would all need to sit and talk and renegotiate boundaries as you are a new piece to the dynamic, so I can't answer for sure yet how it would change things but there are some things I can." He explains and writes Nessa's name on the napkin now and starts drawing the lines between people. "You are willing to be with Dom and we know he still wants to be with you in some aspect," She opens her mouth to say something but changes her mind so Damien can continue. "You clearly are willing to be with Demi, correct?" He asks and she blushes. He tries to suppress a chuckle as he draws the line between Nessa and Rhea. "And what about me, Hermosa?" He wiggles his eyebrows and she laughs at his ridiculousness.

"I think I could give it a shot." She snorts, laughing at his ridiculous expression. "I do want to learn more about each of you individually and see how you interact as a group," She admits quietly.

"Hey Mamita, there is no rush, you are just asking... it is a big decision to make." He points his fork at her for emphasis. He picks up the pen again to continue explaining.

"That leaves Finn," with that he draws a line to Finn finishing what appears to be a pentagram and she laughs, of course it would be a pentagram.

"Finn would take some time. You already have his attention, he wants to get to know you, but you would need to build a strong relationship with you before any physical intimacy would happen. He is demisexual." He explains and she nods along. She notices he stops speaking and sees he is expecting additional questions.

"I understand different sexualities. I told you mine the other day. However, I hear there is a new term which better explains it as Omnisexual. So no extra questions on that except you could tell me more about him." She gives him puppy eyes, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Nuh uh no, you gotta do the work there Hermosa," He shakes his head, smiling at her pouting. "Let's continue, Demi is the same as you sexuality wise, I am Pansexual. I'm sure you know of Dom's." He states and she nods, leaning back in the chair. "Are you ok Nes?" Damien asks, wanting to gauge if he should continue, worried it was too much.

"No, Yeah. I'm fine, it is a lot to process." She begins to chew on her nails again.

"Ok, that's it. Let's change the subject for now," Damien firmly suggests and Nessa drops her hand immediately.

"No, please, I do that for a lot of things, not just being uncomfortable. It helps me think. It grounds me." She tries to explain.

"Fine, but if you do it again the conversation gets tabled. I will not continue it if you are clearly uncomfortable." He lays down no room for negotiation this time. Setting a firm boundary for both of them.

"Ok, I am only uncomfortable because I don't want to offend you or ask or say the wrong thing." She admits, meeting his stern gaze which softens when he sees nothing but truth in her features.

"Ok just ask what you want and I promise I wont get upset or offended," he sits back and waits for her to ask her next question.

"Ok, how does the sex work? I see different scenarios in my head and don't know what to think." She asks and Damien belly laughs making some patrons of the restaurant look in their direction. Nessa blushes and stares down at her lap, pushing food around her plate in embarrassment.

"Oh that was adorable I'm sorry for laughing," He apologizes and tries to suppress a laugh again and Nessa whines, her face getting even redder.

"Oh pobrecita, I'm sorry now I have made you uncomfortable." He stands up and leans over the table, his hand gently under her chin lifting her head up to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry Hermosa, I didn't mean to embarrass you, it won't happen again." He apologizes and she nods still pouting as he sits back down and begins to answer her question.

"We don't always have sex all together like an orgy, sometimes it's just a few of us or just two of us. It's situational. We can go in-depth on that later Hermosa. If you wish, I know you have more questions."

"Let's stay on the sex questions, so let's say you and...m.. Mami," she catches herself and continues, "You two can just have sex, and the others won't be upset?" She watches as Damien shakes suppressing his laugh and she pouts again.

"Yes, so long as we don't constantly exclude each other, we are equals in equal relationships," He answers knowing what she was going to say, "My turn for a question, remember you promised honesty too..."

She nods earnestly waiting for the question

"Have you ever been with more than one partner at a time? What are your interests in bed? How much sex do you need to be satiated?

Nessa takes a breath trying to control herself so he doesn't table this conversation and answers.

"Yes, there have been instances of multiple sexual partners at a time just not in a poly relationship. Varied interests,'' She blushes and continues "And I don't know honestly, because of COVID I've been touch starved I barely saw Dom then let alone been physical until late 2021 even then with the schedule and still quarantining if I was exposed to Covid again to protect him and his career I have been, starved for lack of a better word. Honestly, I kind of think that is why he left me and I can't blame him." She shrugs and Damien looks at her sadly.

"Well that will be different if you do decide to join us mariposa, will be discussed when you are ready. Can you answer a few more questions?" Damian asked, softly.

"Yeah," She smiles, now more comfortable in the conversation.

"How do you like it? Rough? Gentle? Do you prefer to be manhandled? Are you a cuddler? Do you enjoy being tied up or being told what to do?"

"Yes..." She answers, tapping her fingers on the table and meeting his gaze, she doesn't shy away this time. He however is taken aback by her concise answer.

"Yes what?" He shakes his head, confused.

"Yes to all of that, it is situational." She shrugs, owning her preferences, something she is always open about.

"Well, we don't have time to unpack that but I am glad to hear it." He tables the conversation for his own sanity so he doesn't overstep her boundaries.

"How do you like to be treated after?" He asks and sees her clench her fists and changes direction.

"One more question, are you asking because you are interested in joining us?" He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table and continues realizing how that sounded. "Now I'm not asking for an answer about joining us right this moment, just that you are considering it."

"It is something I am considering, I need more information before I decide." She keeps her promise of honesty.

"I will talk to the others and we will follow your lead when it comes to this conversation, but Nessa," He starts his voice getting low and serious,

"If we make you uncomfortable you have to tell us, we won't have you uncomfortable and suffer in silence because you don't want to upset us. That would upset us more than anything. You have to be vocal, promise me that or this won't work." He taps on the napkin where he drew the relationship chart.

"Yeah I promise Luis," She smiles, and he stands up,

"I'm gonna go pay Mamita I'll be back," She opens her mouth to argue but he is already halfway to the counter with the bill. She grumbles to herself, "Goddamn giant and his goddamn long legs..." Nessa eyes the chart on the napkin and smiles to herself. She grabs it and stows it in her purse making sure Damien doesn't see.

After a few minutes, he comes back and holds out his hand, she rolls her eyes but takes it allowing him to help her up and guide her toward the door. He uses his body to block hers as she reaches for the door so he can open for her.

"You know what, tall person you are unlikable sometimes," She grumbles and stomps her foot as she exits the building and Damien laughs, shaking his head at her temper tantrum. He sees the gears turning in her head as she decides to make a break for the car to get to the door before him.

"Oh come on," She groans, throwing her hands up in the air as he beats her to the car.

"I'm faster than Dom Dom Chiqui and bigger, you can't win this fight." She sticks her tongue out at him as she enters the car and he is just finding it hilarious.

"Hey Luis?" She calls his name to get his attention while he drives.

"Hmmm..." He hums, waiting for what she wants to say.

"Tell me about you? I want to learn more about you." She asks and he glances at her and is silent, unsure what to say for the first time.

"What would you like to know?" he finally asks.

"I know you are from Puerto Rico, I want to know more of your past, your likes and dislikes in general not from our conversations earlier" She lets out a nervous giggle.

"Uh, I love baseball, DC comics and metal music." He lists off and she snorts.

"Define metal," He glances at her again, appraising the shift in mood.

"Slayer, Metallica my favorite, Iron Maiden, Megadeath. Bands like that." He answers and she nods appreciatively.

"I quite like metal too, though it isn't my favorite. I love for whom the bell tolls and she aint my bitch, they are my favorite Metallica songs." His head jerks to look at her before returning to look at the road. Shocking Damien with her choice of music.

"I don't know why you are shocked. You see what I wear and some of my tattoos" She shakes her head and continues,

"I am a big fan of pop punk however and alt rock like Motionless in white and Black veil brides." At this admission Damien shakes his head and responds,

"You and Demi will get along just fine."

"You mentioned you like comics?" She asks for clarification,

"Yeah, specifically DC, I love Batman." He smiles appreciating her attempts at bonding especially after such a loaded discussion over dinner.

"I am more of a Marvel comics girl myself, specifically the x-men though there is a special place in my heart for Wonder Woman. The tv series is what got me into superheroes anyway. She is the most powerful and just the best. Out of all DC and Marvel comics."

"That is an argument we can have later mamita we are almost to your hotel. So you like Iron man over Batman then?" He asks as he pulls into the parking lot.

"I didn't say that, they are the same but in different fonts, orphan and rich being a vigilante, though Iron Man admits his ego, Bruce acts holier than thou and it is hilarious people won't admit it. Iron Man, at least owns up to his ego where Bruce just acts like he is always in the right", She laughs and tries to open the car door again and immediately pouts again and crosses her arms waiting for him to go and open the door.

He helps her out of the car, her bag in his hand. She holds her hand out for the bag expecting him to drop her off there and he quirks his eyebrow up at her. "Do you think I am going to leave you alone this late at night in a parking lot and not walk you to your door?" He snorts and gestures for her to lead the way.

"I mean it is a well-lit parking lot with cameras and the door is like 20 feet away." Nessa keeps her hand outstretched.

"No can do Hermosa, I'm talking about the door to your hotel room, no bag carrying."

"Du farkirst mir di yorn," she mutters under her breath,

"I'm sorry, what was that mariposa?" he laughs enjoying her frustration,

"You'll be the death of me." She complains as he jumps ahead and opens the door following her into the hotel.

"And when it comes to Batman you are entitled to your wrong opinion..." he winks as she does a rude gesture as they enter the elevator.

"It's not wrong, you can try to goad me, but you won't win." She bumps her hip into him and pouts when he doesn't move an inch and he laughs at her.

The elevator doors open and he stands aside for Nessa to exit first. "Ok then Mamita,I'll have to prove you wrong."

"Is that a promise!" She taunts trying to grab her bag from him and he only holds it over her head. She glares up at him through her eyelashes, "I will stomp on your foot you, you, you Mazik," She finally finds the word in her vocabulary.

"How about you tell me what that means as you guide me to where your room is then I will give you your bag." He suggests, gesturing down the hallway.

"You know what, how about you give me my bag now and then I tell you." She stands tall, not backing down.

"It seems we are at an impasse, reinita." He steps forward and leans down so his head is level with hers, not breaking eye contact.

"You seem to think being stubborn is going to get your way, let's make a deal."

"You want to know what I called you and I want to carry my bag. You can still walk me to my room door. That is the offer." She smirks at him and he matches her expression.

"Or, I can look it up later and carry your bag as we continue to your room." He counters still at eye level with Nessa, his eyes flick around watching her expression.

"Fine," She answers softly and Damien returns to his full height smiling triumphantly as she continues to grumble under her breath in a language he doesn't understand but he can guess from her tone she is complaining and potentially cursing him. She stops in front of a door at the end of the wall and he takes mental note of the number to tell Dom.

"Goodnight Nessa, I'll see you tomorrow in Seattle." He gently places her bag on the ground in front of the door Nessa just opened. They stand there awkwardly until Nessa decides to step forward and wrap her arms around his waist, her head barely coming up to his shoulder, Damien wrapping his arms around her shoulder and giving a chaste kiss to her hair. She picks up her bag and steps into the hotel room, gently closing the door.

[homosexualasstransbian]

wow i did not expect an austria game in eu4 to actually go well for me, however, somehow i managed to unite the HRE into one country, conquered spain and thanks to that took over their colonial nations, portugal fell under a PU with me at some point, the spanish declared a succession war when that happened, it was an easy win though, just took time.

I started out the game basically by just speedrunning getting a bohemian and austrian PU, then went for poland, while also doing diplomatic fuckery to spread the habsburgs. This led to a Swedish, Saxonian, Portugese and British PU eventually, saxony and the brits were a claim on throne war. did some conquering in poland to finish the mission that gets you a restoration of union CB on poland, it wasn't that helpful unfortunately, russia also took a lot of their lands. then after taking i think it was venice and Milan, i got the restoration of union CB on naples and did that as well :3

so there i was with 7 personal unions at once + some subjects from the HRE, the religious league war was pretty fast, catholicism won, i revoked some free cities to enforce the religion, and i was left with a HRE free from heresy, this in addition to the historical center of Prague and austrian national ideas made getting imperial authority easy, and soon enough i disallowed internal wars, making centralization of the empire even easier, yippee ;3

once i revoked the privilegia i declared a couple wars, the vassal swarm was amazing, first i took some provinces from the ottomans to finish an austrian mission that wanted me to get some serbian provinces, then spain, thanks to the way they choose how to declare wars (iirc they don't consider subjects of an overlord when declaring war on a subject of of said overlord, which gave them the amazing idea to start a colonialism war against Holland, which was my vassal, this called the entire HRE and my PUs into the war) It was fucking horrible. fighting countries that have colonial subjects is SO fucking exhausting, I've had your entire mainland occupied for >15 years and we're still only at ~40% war score because their fucking colonial subjects are untouched. horrible.

Anyways, I now own all of the HRE, most of france, all of the nordic countries, the british isles, iberia, hungary, bohemia, poland, half of Lithuania, all of Italy, morocco, 90% of the americas, australia and half of south africa.

monthly balance is at 4.5k, my manpower pool was into 3 or 4 million, I don't remember exactly, army limit was at 3 million, and navy limit at around 3k iirc, as of rn i only have 1k ships, and around 2.5m bitches in the army, and i have 155 absolutism

[canmargesimpson]

@imthursdaysyme you got me pregnant to the most beautiful idea and now I’m giving birth to it (that’s a weird analogy sorry) AND this is also to my Chilean friend @timefospookies BITCH I KNOW YOU AINT THAT LATINA BUT YOURE GETTING THERE

CHILEAN EDDIE

- he never really knew his father but he knew that he was a piece of shot that no one likes at all

- cut to years later when he is like hella famous and whatever, he does one of those like ethnicity tests and realizes he is 1/4 Chilean. And he’s like… “tf is Chile?”

- he gets home to lock himself in a his room to study about the weird skinny country on the south of america.

-Steve is kinda worried cuz he haven’t come out of the room for like hours ands it’s kinda suspicious

- out of no where Eddie decides that corroded coffin is making a South America tour, as an excuse to visit his some what home country.

- after going country through country they arrive to Chile, he has learned enough Spanish to get by, but little did he know that out of all of the latinoamericanos Chileans are one of the hardest to understand.

-he goes to museum and parks. He eat whatever he found on the street and learned about the basics of the culture

- the night of the concert arrives and he reveals on stage for the first time the reason behind touring

-“so I know it’s weird af to be here because this is actually…. Where I’m from?? A few moths ago I did an ethnicity test and turns out I’m from Chile? I mean it makes sence, I do have awfully dark humor and i am skinny and tall too”

- the crowd goes wild, everyone is shitting themselves rn. Lfter the concert terrier went crazy over the fact that one of greatest metal singer is Chilean.

-after that, his Instagram post got filled with Chilean shit and comments like “WACHITO RICO VEN PA CHILEEE” or “que chileno es este weon?? Si ni siquiera se puede tomar una piscola”

- at first he was scared, because he found out that Chileans can be quite…. Aggressive (I mean the entire country was banned from posting comments on Donald Trump’s Instagram for something)

- he then went to Viña Del Mar to make a comeback and learn some shit. He was now quite fluent in Spanish but you could still tell that he was American by the accent.

-he loved each and every comedian because they all poked at him for being “Chilean” and at the same time calling palta “avocado” or saying “hot dog” instead of “completo”

- after that he just more and more got to learn about the bizarre history behind Chile with Steve. And they loved it so much, since them, they bought a house and spend their vacations on Valdivia looking at the sea lions and Badurrias in the garden

- ALSO he was totally in love with Teletón, since it’s like a thing he never thought South America had, so every year he went to help disabled kids and adults and donating money.

- he comes back as much as posible, and trying to get to see everything from the flowered desert in the north to the glaciers in the south.

- he knew the people where cold but he actually found them quite nice since they all had that same weird sence of humor he did. They also had the same taste as he did, I mean he truly felt at home when he ate a Barros luco for the first time like that shit hit home.

[toournextadventure]

THE OC LORE THE OC LORE LETS HEAR IT??

JUST LET ME KNOW WHAT KIND OF OC LORE YOU WANT BESTIE

But I'll give you some very basic life stories about birb!Reader's older family for fun 😌 if you wanna know about the siblings, let me know, I've got lots more 👀

Reader's ENTIRE adopted family is full of Outcasts, unwanted people, and those that ended up alone whether on purpose or not. It's constantly growing so it's always an absolute madhouse and everyone is either an aunt, an uncle, or a sibling. Chaos always ensues

Her Grandpa, for example, is a true European vampire. He was a blacksmith centuries ago and is the one who teaches Reader all of her "old school" skills. All of her swordfighting skills came from him and he's the one who made the sword for Gomez. One of his favourite pastimes is throwing pop quizzes at all the grandkids to see if they're keeping up with their Romanian. He'll be damned if his grandkids don't learn his language (at least they think it's his language, he has never confirmed a single thing ever in his life). When Wednesday comes around, he's pleasantly surprised at her intellect; they talk for hours in languages Reader doesn't understand

Then there's her Abuelita. She and her parents had come up from Mexico when she was only 4 or 5 and grew up in Southern Texas. They got scattered when she was about 24 and ended up on the East Coast where she met Grandpa and the rest is history (Reader is convinced she only speaks Spanish. Jokes on her, Abuelita speaks perfect English, but the joke has been going on for so long that she can't give up on it now). She bullies Reader even more when Wednesday is around, just to see the amusement on Wednesday's face when Reader gets frustrated

Auntie C is a bad bitch, we stan. She grew up in foster care in Seattle and was miraculously adopted by Abuelita and Grandpa. Easily got her PhD and is a neurosurgeon who does NOT take any shit from the kids, especially the older ones because they damn well know better. No spouse, no kids (except for the Family Kids), ALWAYS in her hoe phase, she is living her absolute best life. She also takes no shit from Wednesday, throwing her own threats right back; it's a wonderful bonding experience

Tio's parents sent him to America at 11 so he couldn't get drawn into the Colombian Cartel. Spent almost three years roaming before being found by Aunti C, who befriended him and eventually brought him home. He's a musician at heart and taught Nicky how to play guitar (he tried teaching Reader, and she's not too shabby, but not near as good as Nicky). Tio, more often than not, is the one who teases Reader most and ABSOLUTELY gives her all kinds of shit when he finds out about Wednesday

Pop probably has the most traumatic past. Growing up on the East Coast, his father (and uncle and cousin) died in a coal mine collapse. Not long after, his mom took her own life, leaving him alone. He was adopted out of an orphanage and became the youngest of Abuelita and Grandpa's group. He and momma were high school sweethearts that got married out of college (he knows more than most about Reader's struggle with her anger, and he's her biggest supporter). He thinks Wednesday is a good anchor for Reader to finally start trying to heal

Momma, strangely enough, had a perfectly normal life. She still talks with her parents, has one sister and a few nieces and nephews. Everyone teases her for not having trauma, to which she says "watch it before I GIVE YOU something traumatic to worry about." She mother's Wednesday in her own way and even though Wednesday will never admit it, she enjoys the genuine care from someone other than her own family

[black-grulla]

this is going to be an incredibly long post, so prepare your fine asses.

Éste va a ser un post increíblemente largo, así que preparen sus buenos ortos.

This post is going to reflect my first(? Impression about the Donquixote Family. But mostly is going to be them reminding me of other people/characters. // Éste post va a reflejar mi primera (? Impresion acerca de la Familia Donquixote. Pero más que nada va a ser ellos haciéndome recordar a otras personas/personajes.

Donquixote Doflamingo (the Joker).

Yup, that's it. Mostly because i knew Doffy like, a long time ago (2 years) and sincerely this is a popular neuron connection that i agree with.

2. Donquixote Rocinante/ Cora-san (Corazón)

Yup, BRO LITERALLY THEY PUT A COMPILATION OF CORAZÓN'S FALLS, and of course has to remind me of Condorito.

3. Diamante

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THEY EVEN MADE HIM AN ENTRANCE IN HIS STYLE IN THE CORRIDA COLISEUM. (They are even on the same pose omg).

4. Pica.

The same as with the man from above; Taurus Aldebaran is in the same fucking pose. I actually was surprised, because i was kinda doubtful with this; then i'm watching and yup. I also laughed as a singer i am when Zoro called him "idiot with soprano voice"

5. Trebol.

Nothing to say, just, disgusting. Bring me someone who likes this man.

6. Giolla

Matilda's mom and Giolla has the same vibe, like, look at them; almost the same pallette.

7. Viola/Violet.

La Rosalia

8. Sugar

Honestly i couldn't find anyone that reminded me of Sugar, but @callmekui cooperated and told me that she reminds him of Qiqi. I don't know why tho.

9. Lao G

Seriously, that woman has a lot of strength.

10. Machvise

When i saw his tail i immediately thought in Mario with his leaf power up costume. Then the whole thing is a mexican fighter.

11. Señor Pink

Oda has a lot of mafia characters, there's even an episode of the straw hats being an italian mafia look a like. I was sure i saw another mafia guy who looked like Señor Pink..

12. The bitch- i mean Dellinger.

I saw another picture of a fish with lady legs, but Darwing fits perfectly. Kokichi was a character that @callmekui compared with. Is a mixture.

13. Buffalo.

Look at me in my eyes. I know what you are. ( Latins are going to laugh so hard at this.)

14. Baby 5.

Again, look at me in my eyes, and tell me they're not the same.

15. Gladius.

Bro. After this motherfucker appeared, i was happy with two Shinzos. The only difference is that this one has not telekinetic power (i think, I'm not sure anymore) and that's when Bakugou appears.

16. Monet.

Sorry, i didn't like her so much. I wanted to punch her in the face.

17. Vergo (first Corazon, wow)

Okay this is a funny one. The man is Bad Bunny, a Reggaeton singer. And it's mostly a Spanish joke; his name. Vergo, if we put the a in the end is verga, and verga in Spanish means cock. There you go english people. AND YOUNGER VERGO LOOKED LIKE A REGGAETONERO WITH THAT FUNGUS CUT LIKE, LOOK AT THIS;

FINALLY I FINISHED.

[vampworks]

Words Fail

Keegan Russ x Spanish Medic reader with the callsign Vulture

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: needles, tattoos, alcohol, and angst. There's a Fade to black. 

--------------------------------

The tip of a needle finally grazes my skin and a hundred thoughts race through my mind. From the many dangers of sharing this one needle to how I could never go back after this string of moments. My mind screams to run just as I did all the times before. As I began to move, a large hand grabs my thigh and tightens around it.

"You alright, Birdie?" He cocks his head to meet my gaze. My nerves were on full display as I always relied on the mask to hide them. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about the awful example I'm setting as the medic." I say with a scoff. He smirks and slouches in his seat on the couch. "Oh damn, you aren'cha? I won't tell if you won't" he leans in and whispers in my ear then motions to hush with a finger to his lips. "Yeah, like you aren't a snitch" I then reach to hit his chest with a snort. He raises his hands to his chest in shock with a gasp. "It was one time, you know good and well you had it coming."

"Ay yo, Russ! Stop distracting her, she's moving and somehow it'll be my fault when I fuck up." Hesh scolds and drags both of us out of the moment. "Sorry, man. but I'll blame you for this whole thing regardless" I quip in an attempt to recover. Both men scoff as Hesh resumes his focus on the bird skull being poked into my forearm. After an hour, another two beers, and too many stolen glances, I get the worse idea and speak before good judgment could set in. "Ay Hesh, gimme the needle for a sec'' He complies with an annoyed sigh and leaves in search of another drink. Keegan watches in silence as I carefully stab the letter 'K' into the design small enough to be hidden. He smirks and meets my gaze. "My turn.'' He says in a low tone still staring into my eyes. Only now, did I see the human skull on his arm and how it was so much neater than my bird one, Hesh was only on his first beer during that process. After another swig of his drink, he too pokes the first letter of my real name into his already completed tattoo.

The weight this carried flew over both of our heads as the sounds of whisky pouring and laughter filled the crowded lounge. Even worse thoughts run through my head as I take account of the dazed look on Keegan's face. His usually sharp eyes soften as he struggles to think straight. "Damn, getting up gonna be a bitch in the morning, huh?'' He tries to joke. A laugh escapes me as I chug the last of my third beer. "Yep," I say popping the p after a deep inhale. We sit in silence as both of our eyes wander. After hour-like moments, he licks his lips and speaks with a breathy tone. "Wanna get out of here." Without a once of hesitation I grab his hand and off we go to my room in the barrack. We stumble through corridors giggling and shushing each other like children.

Once the door is shut, a switch flips in my core. My arms lock around his neck and my lips crash together with his. We stumble to his bed as clothes fall in a trail. All that can be heard through the small room is a mix of both moans and groans. His left-hand tangles in my hair and the other traces down the length of my waist but suddenly stop. "You sure 'bout this, love?'' He says breathlessly. I bring my hand to cup his cheek. "I've never been more sure of anything, Mi Cielo."

-----------

The next morning, I awake still wrapped in his arms. The thought of what today holds spares no sympathy as the hungover set it almost instantly. The alarm blares as 5:00 am flashes on its small screen. The man beside me groans and tightens his grip. "Kee, come on we gotta get going." He releases a louder groan and buries his head in the crook of my neck. Keegan's voice vibrates on my skin and sends a jolt through me. I force myself to sit up as his weight hangs off of my shoulders.

Three years in each other lives and I was only now acutely aware of his touch and warmth. I crave more of it. I wanted nothing else than to crawl back in the sheets and forget the meeting we both knew the ending of. I shake off the thought and him with a kiss on his temple. "I'm sorry, sweets," He says in a low tone as we drag ourselves out of bed. I pull my shirt over my head as I understand his words. "It's fine, I drug my feet too. Feelings are hard when every mission could be your last." Neither the weak smile nor the even worse attempt at a joke helped at the moment. We both cringe at the thought but push on to the showers as both of our heads throb.

After the first round call, Merrick begins with a sigh. "Thanks for showing up, I know we all got up to some fun for Vulture's send-off." He's met with a mix of groans and scoffs. Keegan's hands brush my own in an attempt to brace for what's to come. I look up to meet his gaze but his is fixed on Merrick. I grab his hand and squeeze and return my focus. "I know those boys in 141 will be lucky to have her, They'll be sending their own medic for the trade-off in a few days." Keegan grits his teeth. Merrick walks up to me and places his hand on my shoulder. "Give 'em hell, kid. I trained ya well.'' With a exhale, I fake a wide smile giving my best attempt at a 'yes sir' as I always have before. "Good soldier, you got an hour til the chopper comes for you.'' He finishes with a glance at our hands intertwined before they separate and he sighs. "To the rest of you, we meet on the roof then today's work begins. Dismissed for breakfast" He walks off with the sound of more groans behind him.

After the trip to the mess hall and we're in my room again, Keegan's arms are wrapped around my waist as I pack the last of my things and pull the zipper to a close. "Wanna jump in there, K?" He laughs and only holds me tighter. "Don't tempt me, princess.'' I just might try it." I giggle at the name and turn in his arms. He leans down as three years resolve in a final kiss. It's just as heated as the night before but much softer. The clock strikes 45 minutes after 7, time to head to the roof. "I love you, Keegan" I sigh and stare up into his eyes. He shies but never breaks his stare. He struggles to say the same and settles on "I'll miss you too, V.'' He cringes to himself and makes a move towards the door. With a deep sigh and a look at the floor, I realize what happened. "Ay, give me a minute. I forgot something.'' He waits just outside the door with my bag in hand as I write a last note in a rush.

The walk to the pad on the roof is painfully slow as hands intertwine again. We stop at the final steel door. I try to break the silence. ''Funny how much just a few hours can change stuff, right?" I'm met with silence but his hand lets go of mine. The loss of touch aches for a second as He then engulfed me in his arms. I allow myself to melt into him as my eyes fight back tears. "I…" He starts to speak but stops himself. My hand dips in my pocket and hands the note over to him. Before He can react, I open the door and the loud thrum of the helicopter crowds my senses. Keegan follows with wide eyes til his features harden again in front of his team. I shake hands with them all and toss my bag in the back of the chopper. I plaster a wide smile on my face and gesture a large wave. "Stay alive for me, will yall!" Keegan can't stand to move or blink, too afraid to miss a second of the scene in front of him. The letter's in a death grip in his right hand. He folds the letter neatly into his pocket as he watches me vanish behind the closing doors. The team waves and yells even more goodbyes as the helicopter takes off. They head for the door soon after as Keegan whispers through pained breath. "I love you, Birdie."

He waits til that night to read the note. It's crumbled and written in a rushed survive. 'V's specilty.' he thought with a smile.

'Words fail, but that look in your eyes never will. See you when I will see you. Todo tuyo, Vulture.'

''God, you'll be the death of me, woman'' He mutters bringing a hand to cover his face.

Translations: Mi Cielo- My sun Todo tuyo- All yours

[deepdeanvsweston]

Here they are! Lavinia/Daisy get together headcannons!

- we all know they're dormmates ofc

- so they know each other through that

- Lavinia is lesbian, and Daisy is a lesbian

- Lavinia realises she likes girls very quickly after Kitty (who is straight as a pole mind you) in first form suggested they practised kissing so they're ready for boys

- Lavinia immediately goes and starts hyperventilating in the bathroom because 'oh god she liked it. She liked it.'

- anyway this happens and she goes on to repress this for the next 4-6 years

- repression queen <3

- despite this, she continues to have weird romantic tension with this girl in their year who's the head of the fifth form hockey team, Jean Munroe

- but Lavinia's like 'it doesn't count. Just because I pushed her up against the changing room and snogged her face off doesn't MEAN anything'

- anyway

- Daisy meanwhile also had Kitty in first form practising kissing

- (Daisy develops a brief one year crush on Kitty)

- but for Daisy it just did not click that she liked girls

- in her head she was like "oh I like this. This is wonderful and I want to do this all my life. Obviously only because Kitty is pretending to be a boy though :)"

- Jolly Foul Play was when everything fell into place for Daisy and she realised she liked girls (Astrid and Margaret fr fr)

- anyway again

- Top Marks For Murder is when Daisy begins to take ✨notice✨ of Lavinia

- she's brash and blunt but Daisy thinks all the stuff Lavinia knows about nature and animals is pretty cool (nature conservationist Lavinia fr fr) and finds her privately quite funny

- (Daisy also thinks she cuts a fine form in her tennis uniform)

- Nothing happens though

- they start skirting round each other after TMFM

- Jean Munroe starts showing up to exeat weekends with a boyfriend and Lavinia on the inside is hurt and embarrassed and scared because she feels like she's been abandoned by everyone she's ever loved and Jean didn't even say she wanted to end it, even if there wasn't anything TO end!

- on the outside Lavinia become Spiky. She's angry, but like I said earlier, she's a repression queen

- she stays furious and sullen and for lack of a better word, bitchy, but she tells herself it's NOT because of Jean, it's not it's not it's not (it is)

- anyway again

- Death Sets Sail happens, Lavinia and George run away to the Spanish War

- Lavinia does ofc go away because of her political beliefs but also because it provides an opportunity to get away from Deepdean, and her parents, and stupid Jean

- her and George split up, she comes back a little more mature but more Lavinia than ever, trains to be an ambulance driver, all the canon stuff

- meanwhile, the war has put a strain on Daisy and Amina's relationship

- WW2 brings up a lot of painful/weird feelings for Daisy, as it sees her mother die and Fallingford get requisitioned, and Stephen is in the news as he's been let out of prison to fight on the front

- so she's going through a lot of shit

- Daisy is... happy? About her mother dying. Or at the very least feels finally free

- Amina does NOT get this, and is in fact a little bit weirded out? She ofc understands Margaret Wells was a terrible mother, but thought Daisy would hold at least a little bit of love for a dead/dying woman

- this causes a big divide when Daisy refuses to go to her funeral and Amina wants her to. They split up

- Daisy goes for a walk to clear her head, and Lavinia is just walking back from the ambulance depot

- "Heard about your mother" Lavinia says

"Who hasn't? It's on the front page of the bloody telegraph" Daisy replies bitterly

"Could've chosen a better family photo. You look terrible"

"She was an utter beastly, bitch"

"Mothers usually are" (Lavinia's mother was... not great either)

"I'll drink to that"

- and they do. They go back to Lavinia and Beanie's shared flat (Beanie is working late at the hospital) and get horrendously drunk and start telling each other how they'd kill their mothers

- 'this is what I needed' Daisy thinks, 'someone who doesn't think I'm a terrible person for hating a dead woman'

- and they end up talking about Deepdean (it's actually one of Daisy's favourite subjects, and bound to come up if she's had a few)

- they start bitching about Clementine, and Lavinia lets slip about her and Jean

- Daisy and Lavinia do a toast "to spiteful cows and our hopes for their downfall!"

- they end up on crushes after Lavinia says about her and Jean, and Daisy now lets slip about Kitty and that essentially she thought Lavinia looked hot in her tennis uniform

- long story short they end up in bed together

- and then. This keeps happening. They keep sleeping together, as well just having huge bitch fests about nearly everyone in their lives

- but they do begin to notice that they no longer have to get drunk to end up sleeping together

- there is Something There

- unfortunately Daisy brings this up and Lavinia's like Nope! Fuck off! Jean Munroe was enough woman for me! Just because I like having sex with women means absolutely fuck all, actually!

- (she's just scared and still hurting about Jean)

- anyway near the end of the war, Lavinia is caught outside in an air raid and gets badly injured

- but she doesn't go to the hospital like a stubborn fool because she thinks other people need and deserve it more

- LAVINIA YOU HAVE A BROKEN ANKLE, A BLEEDING HEAD AND THIRD DEGREE BURNS ACROSS YOUR ABDOMEN GET HELP

- she does, in fact, get help, she may be stubborn but she's not stupid enough to think she doesn't need medical attention

- obviously she ends up at Daisy's flat, I do love myself a bit of hurt/comfort

- Daisy is working late at the ministry though, and so she finds Lavinia collapsed against her door

- gently, she shakes Lavinia and cups her face 'Lavinia? Hey. Vin. Can you hear me?"

- Lavinia sort of groans back so Daisy knows she's semi ok, and helps her into the flat

- she sits Vin on the bathroom counter and gently strips her down so she can treat her abdominal burns and tilts her head up so Daisy can dab at her head wound and carefully binds her ankle

- (Lavinia makes a joke like "Daisy you perv" and Daisy's like "Lavinia. I have had sex with you at least 7 times and at least 5 of those we didn't have clothes on. Please raise your arms so I can put cream on your burns")

- it's very intimate, and they're both acutely aware of this, but Lavinia is in too much pain and Daisy is too worried about her for them to do anything about it

- Daisy puts Vin in her room and goes to leave her but Lavinia starts sobbing because she's in pain and worried about her brothers and she sees dead people everyday in her job and she misses when they were 12 and the most stressful thing was making sure they didn't wake up matron when having a midnight feast

- Daisy is like 'uhhh' and starts stroking her hair like a cat

- Lavinia starts choking out "f-fuck *sob* o-off" but Daisy stays and they both eventually fall asleep

- the next morning Daisy wakes up to Lavinia attempting to sneak it out

- it obviously goes badly because she's got a broken ankle that's swelled to the size of a balloon and badly concussed

- she's about 3 minutes away from vomiting on the floor but she's determined to get out the front door

- Daisy grabs her

- "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out. Away. Anywhere but here"

"Well. Don't."

"You're not in charge of me, Wells"

"Are you even in charge of you right now? You look as if you're about to pass out"

- Lavinia does privately agree with Daisy, as she can currently see two of her but she's stubborn as fuck so she continues to move towards the front door

- Too fast. She passes out into Daisy's arms

- she ends up back in Daisy's bed and lives with Daisy and Hazel for about a week and they get used to each other

- Lavinia realises that it was nice and when she's around Daisy, she feels safe. Her constant knot of anxiety in her chest undoes itself completely when Daisy looks at her

- and when Lavinia slaps a hand on her shoulder, or presses a kiss to her knuckles Daisy feels every bone in her body buzz excitedly

- Lavinia goes back to her flat, and life sort of resumes a bit

- but Daisy is sick of it. The fear, the uncertainty, the shame, and so bursts into Lavinia's flat

- "Detective Temple, I've, well, I've got something to say to you. Having analysed all the facts, I've come to the conclusion that I'm in love with you, and you're... in love with me. Or that I'm having some sort of ghastly allergic reaction to you. Possibly"

- Daisy is standing her ground but is wide eyed and shaking

- Lavinia stands up from her kitchen table

- "Do shut up, Wells" and Lavinia gives her a big open mouthed kiss

- Beanie and George who had been having breakfast with Vin and watching all of this unfold are all 👀👀👀

- and that's sort of that really

- also just because I feel the need to clarify everything Lavinia also feels her knot of anxiety unravel when with George, and Daisy, while Hazel doesn't ignite feelings of excitement in her bones, she does cause Daisy to feel completely at peace and content in her mind

[annimator]

ALRIGHT, SO

*SLAMS DESK*

THIS IS DISVENTURE CAMP!

A Latin-American Total-Drama and/or Survivor inspired web-series that’s become one of my newest hyperfixations >:D

Watch the video to learn more about this series, but I’m gonna ramble more about it under the cut

[ BE WARNED, I’ll ALSO BE SPOILING SOME STUFF THAT HAPPENS IN ALL OF THE SEASONS (SO FAR, SEASON 4’S COMING IN NOVEMBER) ]

• The writing can be… questionable at times, but I REALLY love this series overall. There’s English AND Spanish audio versions of each and every episode public on YouTube!

• The series is funded by Patreon funds and Greetings! You can pay a measly cost of $90 for a character to greet you & answer up to three questions and/or sing! For an extra fee, you can make them have/wear props and/or also dress them up in fan made or other outfits they’ve worn in the show! As of recently, double greetings have opened up! Obviously costing double the cost of a normal greeting at $180.

• There’s also guidelines for the double greetings. If you want the characters to do gestures and like previously mentioned, wear different outfits & have props, you’ll have to pay an extra fee. AND only characters that are canonically friends can have physical contact, and kissing is limited to CANON ships. Also one certain character isn’t allowed to kiss or have any physical contact with anyone, but I’ll talk about her later

• As stated in the vid, all the contestants from all 3 seasons come from varying ages and nationalities! Odd Nation Cartoons (the guys behind DC) made an instagram post about them to prove it :D [link!]

• Since it’s in an indie animated series on YouTube, they’re basically free to show and tell whatever they want; whether it’s the backstories of the characters, or curse words being thrown every episode lol

• The series also focuses a lot on the characters, both the staff & contestants if we’re being technical

• All the latest main seasons are finished, so you can watch the entire series without having to wait a week or two for the next episode! Personally I’ve been waiting since JUNE for one of my favourite scenes from Disventure Camp All Stars’ finale.

• There are also 2 DC-related spinoff series on the ONC channel; Staff Stories & TomJake. Staff Stories is… well a spinoff series that goes into the backstories of the fictional staff members for Disventure Camp, and also what they’re doing in between seasons for some of them.

• (YEAH, OF COURSE IM HAVING ONE SEPARATE POINT JUST FOR THEM) TomJake is probably one of the most popular DC ships, and they’ve had an on again off again relationship throughout the series, especially considering Tom ghosted Jake in the two years between their season (Season 1) and All Stars. They did end up getting back together in All Stars’ finale and they kissed AND I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I SCREAMED “YES” FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS AND- wait what was I saying again.

• oh ye, those two got a spinoff that mainly revolves around what they’ve being doing outside of both Season 1 and ESPECIALLY All Stars. The first episode’s the only one out as of recently, and it mainly goes into what Tom did after Season 1 & why he ghosted Jake, and it also teases the next episode around the end (WHICH COMES A DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY :DDDDDD)

• There’s a lot of LGBTQ+ rep in the series! As confirmed in some promo art ONC made for Pride Month, a bunch of characters are gay, lesbian, or bi, but there’s also asexual, pansexual, and transgender representation!

• Yes, there are canon relationships. Yes, some of them are same-sex. Yes, I love… well most of them. One of the canon ships was pretty toxic, and I’m proud of Grett for breaking up with Yul.

• Speaking of which, Yul’s an asshole, but at the same time he’s one of the funniest characters in DC; like I can recite his entire elimination monologue from All Stars since it’s one of the funniest quotes from the season. Also a clip of Fiore calling Yul an ugly pimply bitch got me into watching the entire series lmao. Those two are actually the two contestants that curse the most throughout the series now that I think about it :p

• Fiore’s also my favourite character in the entire series. She’s also only EIGHT YEARS OLD AS OF ALL STARS. She’s basically a little shit and I love her for that, and the father-daughter esque bond she has with Alec is pretty nice. Her flipping off Riya was honestly my second favourite scene from All Stars’ finale besides the TomJake kiss

[sug4r-sp1c3]

May I request general dating hcs for Paul and patryck (Seperatly) from eddsworld? 💅

Paul makes me go on simp mode..

(btw, since patryck apperiances in the show where just REWARDS that the REAL patryck had for donating, i'll use the FANON patryck[the one that is used on Fanfics, comics, fan-stuff, etc.]

Paul and Patryck Dating HC!

Paul

OH MY GOD WHERE DO IT START

he's an idiot and a dummy, thats for sure

well now he's all that x73404938 JUST BECAUSE OF YOU

he will probably try to end his work at the army sooner just to see you

or if you are with him well, basically beg to the red leader to put you in missions or stuffy like that with him

he would try to hide the smell of cigarrette's

I SAID TRY

speaking about try

he would try to get you flowers or tiny stuff!

or even if he saw something shiny around the army he would pick it up and if its like a ring he would give it to you!

and if this isn't enough to you to be sure that that boy haves something with you..

after some monts!(or even a year i could say) he wil ask you out!

in his own way ofc

the current dates would be(in the case that you aren't in the army), a night dinner or just movie nights! or things like that

if you ARE in the army. The dates would be just walking around the place, going to some places to practice, or even just have a lunch together!

[just imaginated him and you on the army's like caffeteria. in a normal table but with a red blanket, like if you both where in a restaurant, hehe]

HE'S A SWEETHEART LIKE OMG

probably when he gets you flowers they would be kinda dead or even with some petals falling

and he isn't proud of it

he murmures a sorry as he insists that he will get you something better

(SOBBING OVER THE FACT THAT I COULDN'T FIND A GIF ASJHDJS SORRYYYYY)

Patryck

feeling like this bitch would deny all at the start

"i'm not doing it i'm not-"

he keeps saying until he realizes he has been doing tiny things for you..

for example: you both are in the army? he holds you doors and tells the leader to not worry about you and basically speaks good abt you

or when you pass he stares at you, not creepy, just with a tiny shine(and it isn't until Paul tells him that if he's paying attention or when you leaved)

he would start with tiny things

shinning things that he finds, flowers, coffee.

until he forces himself to ask you out

or well try

he would try to insunuate that he is in love with you like sometimes being there when you don't even need him, trying to go out in missions(if you are in the army ofc)

he's there if you are hurt

or when you are hurt he finds an excuse to go and visit you!(and brings some flowers, or even sends, but. lets keep that as a secret)

he tries to be serious or un-expressive around you

but probably fails miserably

You would have to make the first move if you both want to be something..bc it would take him like...4 dating months

[this isn't mine! it was made by fnafhs-aesthetics ! if you are a fan of FHS and want a banner or an icon go and check their profile!]

sorry if they are any spell mistakes english isn't my original lenguage!(its Spanish lolz)

[lydia-too-late]

4:02am

“You should be glad I picked you up. Shit, lotsa bad people around this time of night.”

The headlights race forward and forward and forward along the gray-faded asphalt, cutting a stark semicircle of illumination that deepens the cavernous dark beyond. Tula stares forward too, still and unblinking, hair hanging in long tangles over half her face. She says nothing.

He prods. “Why were y’out here, anyway?” 

The silence stretches, blunted by the steady hum of road noise. 

Finally, low and half-raw: “Party.”

“Yeah?” The man laughs. She hasn’t looked at him closely. He smells of stale cigarettes, sweat, hours-old dollar-menu fast food. The truck must be thirty years old, and it feels older. Dust on dirt, dirt on dust, layered like sedimentary deposits. “Must’ve gotten pretty wild, huh? You should be glad I found ya before anyone else. Out here, stuff happens and no one ever finds out, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.”  

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Luna.” The lie comes automatically.

“That’s a pretty name. Luna. Spanish, right? Y’don’t look Mexican. Wouldn’t have picked you up if ya did. Don’t wanna aid an illegal, y’know? Helping ‘em out just means more will come. Build The Wall, that’s what I say.”

It’s 4:02am. Two hours until sunrise. 4:03. 4:04. 4:05.

“There’s an old saying, Luna. You might be too young to know it. Gas, grass, or ass: Nobody rides for free.” The man barks a laugh, flush with rush and risk, then continues in his lazy drawl. “I don’t need no gas or grass, but I wouldn’t turn down some ass. I’m taking you all the way into the city, after all.”

She looks at him -- really looks. He’s smiling, pink lips peeled tight over yellowing teeth, nestled in patch of unkept, graying whiskers. Weathered face, watering eyes. His gaze oscillates between her and the empty road ahead. 

Motherfucker. 

Wounded and growling, the thing in her belly snarls, bares its teeth. “When we get there,” she promises.

"Aha!" He grins wider, not bothering to conceal his sudden sense of triumph. “I knew you were a girl who can show appreciation when someone helps her out. So many bitches these days think the world owes ‘em something. All that feminazi, me-too bullshit.” He reaches down and adjusts the crotch of his grease-stained jeans, gaze pawing at his passenger. “Betcha look pretty without that jacket.”

He turns on the radio: George Strait, Garth Brooks, rolling thunder, small-town broken hearts, the crooning whimper of men in love or loss, drowning in drink and the bitter ruins of a mythological American dream.

Nights run short this time of year. With no traffic, it’s an easy drive into the city. Twenty or thirty minutes at most, depending on the traffic lights. Tula slumps against the passenger window, watching the deserted intersections pass one after another, the glow of streetlights wandering over her face as the salivating thing within kneads her belly. How many of them are there in the city, like her, watching the sky as dawn approaches? 

“This is it?” The truck pulls into a parking lot and shudders to a stop, the uneven idle of the engine sputtering in the relative quiet.

“Yeah.”

“Which building’s yours?” He’s already unfastening his belt.

“That one.” Tula points to the nearest apartment building. It’s a lie, of course: her haven is half a mile away. 

She feels the satisfying ache of fangs, the hunger that prowled and paced through their ride, simmering and deep, quietly filling her out, flushing to the furthest extremities: her lips and fingertips, her chest and core, all the way down to her toes. When we get there, she’d promised. The beast is tired of waiting.

She gives herself to it.