#arte actual Madrid

[pshbites]

enhypen as pro athletes

genre ⇢ reactions, imagines, wtv u wanna call it

wc ⇢ 200 ish per member ? idk

warning(s) ⇢ profanity, loll smth else?

taglist ⇢ @wensurr @nshmurarki @blvengene @sirens-dreams @mimismenu

a/n : erm i should be studying for my chem exam but that can wait 🙈

if you liked this please be sure to reblog and like this! feedback is always apreciated <3 and join my perma taglist here

HEESEUNG… basketball player

- major troy bolton vibes

- he’s got tunes AND hoops

- god forbid you’re at a park and he sees a court

- “this one’s for you baby!!” *misses*

- all jokes aside he has that nba player aura to him

- DEFFF a d1 college athlete who then went pro

- always blowing a kiss to you in the crowd

- TROOOOYYYYYYYYYY

- he would try teaching you how to play but then get frustrated because he’s so passionate

- he’s just good at basketball and he can sing that’s what he brings the table that’s all he got!!!!

JAY… f1 driver

- lol did i give my bias my fav sport… MAYBEEE

- lewis hamilton and max verstappens love child

- oh and he’s a red bull driver

- fashion ICON. always pulling up in the paddock best dressed

- serves cunt on the streets

- he would be a menace whenever you two go go karting.. leaving you in the dust i fear

- you’ll never catch him below p5

- those sassy radios

- you’ll always catch him being snarky on the grid and off the grid

- akshully, he would tweet like lewis in 2014

- “he’s sitting in the middle of the road doing nothing”

- always blowing a kiss to you when he’s on the podium

- the alchemy by ts “where’s the trophy and he just comes running over to me”

- oh he’s looking for you the second he’s out of that car

- he would single handedly bring back red bull dominance

- picturing jay in a red bull uniform.. it’s heavenly.

- sigh i need someone to write f1driver!jay

JAKE… soccer player

- this was a given

- HE PLAYS FOR REAL MADRID NO QUESTIONS ASKED.

- him & that team would get along tooooooo well

- constantly posting q&a on instagram

- this un media trained king

- always mentions you no matter what

- “how are you feeling for the next match?�� “great.. so my gf-“

- first thing he’s doing after winning is pulling out his phone and filming

- “LIVE REACTION TO THE WINNING GOAL” and it’s a 25 sec clip of him and güler running around the field.

- his insta story is such a struggle to get thru bc it’s either clips of him and the team on the private jet or a ton of random ass q&as

- “what’s your plan for the next season?” “idrk but today i had waffles for breakfast 😍”

- his interviews are always the most entertaining bc he just says anything

SUNGHOON… hockey player

- this is because i can’t just do a freebie and give him ice skater 😞

- BUT HE DID PLAY FOR THE HOCKEY TEAM WHEN HE WAS LITTLE!!

- he’s not like the other hockey men tho, not overly aggressive

- he’s actually calm when he isn’t annoyed about losing

- one thing about him, he will drag it through the mud if he gets in the penalty box

- kicking ice and everything 😭

- lowk i see him as the teammate who isn’t very public with his personal life

- only time people see him smiling with 50 teeth is when he’s with u

- thinks of his job as more of a hobby

- “so what interested you in ice hockey!” “i was bored…”

- deffo plays for the national team

- just the most nonchalant person there

SUNOO… tennis player

- now hear me out

- blonde sunoo = art donaldson

- LIKE WOAHHHH!!!

- once again on the national team FOR SURE

- does not play when it comes to tennis (idk anything abt tennis 🤣)

- WILL huff and puff if it’s out

- SO sassy

- like side eye when they’re sipping water and changing rackets

- cannot play duos for the life of him

- but he’s GOOD

- nicest person ever out of the field tho

- interviewers love him because he knows how to appeal to fans

- cannot be mysterious for the life of him

- his insta posts are either him or pics of you AND him

- he actually hard launched you on his insta

JUNGWON… swimmer

- i mean,,, have u seen that body???

- the way he dances helps out a lot because he’s very flexible

- oh he’s for sure on the national AND olympic team

- i know a body of water hate to see him coming

- you two could be at the beach and suddenly he’s doing all this fancy shit

- likes to brag about how long he can hold his breath underwater

- like a child “look look! 30 seconds” like yes baby you go!!!

- his personality switches when he has a swim meet though

- literally rbf EVERYWHEREEEE

- the second he’s out of the water tho he’s back to normal

- unfortunately he isn’t a pr nightmare

- too media trained for his own good

RIKI… baseball player

- he’s gonna be eating that dodger dawg 25/8

- idk anything abt baseball so bear with me

- bro is locked in for every single game

- and you alr know he’s in the mlb (america RAHHHH)

- i think he’d play for the yankees

- riki belongs in nyc we know this

- a pr NIGHTMARE.

- his managers hate to see him coming bc he’s just doing anything

- “what do you think you could’ve improved in the last game?” “nothing i’m amazing shut up”

- he doesn’t take anyone’s bs

- not even his own teammates r safe from him

- his social media is full of goofy ass posts or posts that you collaborated with him on insta but it’s only aesthetic bc it’s from your page

- lowk i think he would occasionally posts those pics like he does on weverse like just insane amt of aura in one pic

- probably has a streaming account in this universe too

- “can we hurry this session up i have to stream at 7 😑”

- part time mlb player, full time twitch streamer actually

[oofthwoods]

VICIOUS! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: arthur leclerc likes a certain type of woman: smart, neglects intuition, and not as good as him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: set in 2021, during echo's formula 3 season. they're both jerks to each other here :/ based on vicious by sabrina carpenter (emails i cant send pretty much defines their relationship). this is short but it's important for her future relationship with a certain someone | i used echo instead of y/n here, but tell me which one you prefer

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 2.09k

"I TRIED TO LOOK FOR THE BEST IN THE WORST BUT LIKE, FUCK ME, THAT CAUSED A COMMOTION."

As the evening progresses in Austria, the bustling noises of the city begin to fade into the background, replaced by the occasional murmur of distant conversations and the gentle swish of car tires on the damp pavement. The scent of rain lingers in the air, mixing with the subtle aroma of pine carried by a cool breeze from the nearby mountains. The warmth of the day still lingers, but it's now more tolerable, just a faint reminder of earlier heat.

Arthur paces back and forth on the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, his footsteps creating a restless rhythm that echoes in his mind. Every so often, he runs his fingers along the curtains, feeling the delicate and cool fabric against his skin. But it's as if he's only scratching at the surface of the problem consuming him.

The third stage of the Formula 3 championship went off without a hitch for the three races. Arthur claimed the fastest lap in the second race, while Y/N took home first place in that same race. Prema and Art teams were locked in a heated competition for points during the first half of the championship, with the French team ultimately taking the lead after Frederik Vesti's win at the last race in the Red Bull Ring.

Throughout that weekend, Arthur barely spoke to her. Despite being swamped with commitments such as hectic meetings, exhaustive tests, and endless interviews, they used to make an effort to connect even if it was just a quick call. However, her messages were always met with prolonged periods of silence before receiving a brief and unenthusiastic response, leaving her feeling confused and frustrated. Every attempt to call resulted in reaching voicemail without any explanation or apology for his absence.

Despite her victory in the second race, he was not one of the people who congratulated her. He also did not attend the podium ceremony for the third race, where she secured an important second place for her team. She had sent him messages, but he only responded with a short "thank you" for her congratulations on earning extra points for setting the fastest lap. He completely ignored her invitation to join her and some other drivers in a celebration.

She finally couldn't take the silence any longer and broke it with frustration. "Can we at least talk? We're not kids anymore, Arthur," she said, sitting on his cluttered bed.

"Are you leaving for France tomorrow?" Arthur asked quietly, still refusing to look at her as he packed his suitcase.

"No. Fernando wants me to go to Madrid and then Silverstone with him during my break. The team doesn't need me at the factory, so I have some free time," Y/N replied with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension between them.

She received only a grunt as a response, which was enough for her to know that it was time to speak up. "Are you going to turn around and actually use words, or are you going to keep grunting like some kind of primitive?" Her voice held a mix of determination and disappointment, reflecting her growing frustration with the lack of communication between them.

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way slowly towards Y/N, his face betraying a medley of conflicting emotions. She stood up from the bed, keeping a close eye on his expression in anticipation of what might happen next.

Their relationship was still new; they had met at a party thrown by a mutual friend who was also one of her teammates. That night, everything seemed to align perfectly for their chance encounter, and the initial spark of attraction quickly grew into something more profound. Through casual touches, shared smiles, and intimate conversations about their interests and preferences, they were building the fragile yet promising foundations of their relationship.

He paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the perfect words to express himself. She watched with curiosity, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you let me overtake you?" Arthur asked, sounding unsure.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, trying to comprehend his question. She repeated it in her head, trying to understand the underlying meaning. "What do you mean?"

Arthur seemed annoyed by her confusion and scrunched his face in response. "In yesterday's race. I was right behind you, but you wouldn't move out of the way."

Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, her tone becoming defensive. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Why should I let you pass, Arthur? I don't remember breaking any rules to earn my spot."

Arthur released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension between them escalating with each word they exchanged. He closed the distance between them, hoping to find some understanding in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of breaking any rules, cherie." His tone softened, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just want to know why you didn't make room for me to pass. It seemed like you were intentionally blocking me."

Y/N felt the weight of Arthur's words as an accusation, and it only added to her growing frustration. She couldn't believe they were having this argument now, when there was so much at stake for both of them.

"Of course I was blocking you! We're competitors, remember?" Her voice was firm, but she laced it with a confused laugh. "My team needs those points. I need those points. Why would I let you have them?"

Arthur took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of Y/N's response. He looked both surprised and disappointed, struggling to process her strong emotions.

"I just thought you would understand," he muttered, his voice trailing off as if he regretted speaking at all. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned away.

She felt a surge of anger within her, a mix of frustration and sadness. She was taken aback that Arthur would question her integrity on the track, especially considering their intimate relationship off of it.

"Understand?" She repeated, each word dripping with disbelief. "Arthur, I want that title just as much as you do. It's not my responsibility to make it easy for you or anyone else. You know that."

There was a tense moment of silence between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the feeling that something was unraveling between them, something that might never be fully repaired.

"I know," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weakness. "But I thought we were more than just competitors."

Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing her features before she steeled herself with determination.

"Arthur, I can't sacrifice my career for our relationship," she said, her voice softening slightly. "We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

Arthur's voice turned defensive as he tried to justify his actions. "Don't you think it would have been better if I had won?" He glanced at his girlfriend, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You're still new to this category; there will be other chances for you."

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze unwavering and intense. "So, you're saying it would be acceptable for me to lose simply because I'm a rookie?" Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air.

Arthur paused, searching for the right words to explain himself. "No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, but Y/N cut him off.

"Did you give the same speech to all the other rookies too?" her sarcasm evident.

Arthur's discomfort flickered across his face before he turned back to meet her unwavering stare. "The other rookies aren't in a relationship with me," he retorted with a hint of harshness.

Y/N fell silent, digesting his words. Then, she stepped closer to him, locking eyes with determination.

"Tell me honestly, Arthur," she began calmly yet emotion thick in her voice. "Did you want me to let you win because I'm a rookie or because I'm your girlfriend?"

Her question hit Arthur like a punch to the gut, leaving him struggling to find the right words. He couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"I…I'm not sure," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as uncertainty and vulnerability seeped through. "Maybe it's a bit of both."

Her expression hardened, her eyes showing disappointment and frustration in equal measure. She had expected more from him, hoped that he would acknowledge his own flaws and confront them head-on.

"So you don't trust me as a competitor, as a driver?" she asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor of emotion that she was trying to contain.

Arthur's heart raced as he met her intense gaze. He knew his words had hurt her and shattered the trust she had in him.

"That's not what I meant, cherie." He struggled to find the right words, but they sounded hollow even to his own ears. "It's just…I don't know how to handle the fact that you're better than me."

She was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his insecurities were not her responsibility and she couldn't sacrifice her own ambitions for his approval. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of empathy for him, understanding that his insecurity came from a place of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur, I can't change who I am because of your doubts," she said firmly. "And I won't apologize for excelling at what I do."

Arthur's voice took on a smooth, almost patronizing tone, a subtle edge of superiority laced within his words. "You must be feeling quite pleased with yourself, wouldn't you agree?" he mused, his tone carrying a delicate sting. "Stepping onto the stage as a rookie and quickly grabbing the spotlight. Impressive, definitely, but experience and dedication? Those are qualities that develop over time, babe."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and hurt flickering across her features. "I just want us to understand each other," she started, her tone gentle yet resolute. "I'm not trying to belittle what you've achieved. But it's not about placing blame. If you truly have the experience and talent you speak of, shouldn't overtaking me come as second nature, without needing to ask?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of anger, the tension between them palpable. "You underestimate what it takes to rise to the top," he retorted sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Talent is one thing, but true success in this realm requires more than just skill. Experience is the key that sets winners apart from the rest."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, a flicker of impatience dancing within them. "What makes you assume I lack dedication and experience?" she questioned calmly, her tone holding a hint of challenge. "Just because my journey in this sport hasn't been as long as yours doesn't diminish the effort I've put in."

Arthur emitted a dry chuckle, his resentment barely concealed. "You've had quite the advantageous start, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You believe your familial connections and wealth entitle you to success? Reality doesn't operate on such privileges."

Her hands tightened into fists, a surge of defiance coursing through her. She refused to let his patronizing remarks undermine her accomplishments. Her voice remained composed yet firm, slicing through the tension. "Privileges? It's ironic coming from someone who's thrived under their brother's shadow," she countered, her gaze ablaze with determination. "You stand there, relying on your average talent to compensate for the countless doors opened by your surname."

Arthur's complexion deepened with a flush, a blend of shame and anger twisting his expression. He despised the constant comparisons to his brother, weary of residing in his sibling's imposing shadow. This resentment fueled his determination to establish his identity.

"I'm not my brother," he snapped with intensity.

She met his gaze steadily, her defiance unyielding. "No, you're not. And that's the problem," she countered sharply, her tone slicing through the air.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken animosity as they stood facing each other. Her eyes burned with fury, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. She was done playing nice.

"I'm not carrying anyone's burdens," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I have my own stuff to deal with. You don't like the fact that your girlfriend is better than you? Consider this problem solved."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley , @stinkyjax , @namgification , @judespoision , @cha-hot , @disneyprincemuke , @itsjustkhaos , @trouble-sistar , @ihateyougunthersteiner , @treehouse-mouse , @cherry-piee , @fangirl125reader , @cassie0sstuff, @be-your-coffee-pot , @elijahslover , @flannelforthetoads , @m0cha-bunny , @ironmaiden1313 , @glitterquadricorn , @spideybv28 , @celesteblack08 , @thatgirlthatreadswattpad , @itscrzy, @canihavemyhoodieback , @eugene-emt-roe

[bonbonly]

Oh I didn’t cook anything! Just laid out the ingredients you gave me the recipe for! It’s all you bon!!

On another thought, Christmas at the Sainz mansion is quite the magical time! Since it doesn’t snow that often in Madrid, they take the whole bunch to their other mansion up in the mountainous regions, so you bet there’s gonna be a lot of skiing, fireplace bonding and cozy sweaters involved. On the flip side though, the Sainz family is nothing but warm and welcoming. They spend every Christmas and new year together as a family, because that’s what’s the most important for them! And don’t feel awkward about the whole deal, Carlos’ friends had spent a couple christmases with them as well, so there’s always an extra seat and plate at the dinner table just in case.

And Mr. and Mrs. Sainz are beyond smitten with the art student, how could they not be? They are quite idealist people themselves, raised their children to be the same way also. It was only a matter of time for Mrs. Sainz to offer her a sponsorship for the upcoming high society exhibitions in Spain.

And don’t get me started on his sisters! Oh, they would be such matchmakers, thinking they’d tease and get a reaction out of Carlos first, only to be baffled by his nonchalant reaction, shrugging his shoulders at the dinner table before turning to look at his little “friend” with hearts in his eyes. If they weren’t surrounded by their parents, they would be making fun of him so bad.

Over the time, as days go by with every moment filled with an activity, poor girl finds herself (unfortunately) breaking her own rules and being drawn to him more and more. Let’s hope she is good at avoiding mistletoes!

- 🦦

i got myself an actual anon omg!!! 🦦 anon, i hope you stay blessed forever for this 🙏

i have this thought that during the dinner, reader was shifting in her seat uncomfortably and Mrs. Sainz looks over and asks if she’s alright. Poor reader, she’s stuffed with carlos’s cum to the brink, her poor pussy lips only leak his gift to her through her panties. but she obviously couldn’t say that! she shakes her her and says she isn’t feeling well, and the entire family breaks down worrying over her. mrs. sainz insists she stays for a whole week, accompanying them and carlos’s sisters are more than eager to share their room with her and their clothes. carlos, in the meantime, takes a bite of his food with a knowing smirk.

the whole family loves her to death. skiing trips, cozy sweaters like you said anon but lets not forget to include christmas movies and that mistletoe you mentioned! It was probably his sisters’ idea to hang the mistletoe in the kitchen where he was making breakfast and our lovely reader was just trying to get some napkins after spilling paint onto her hands. mrs. sainz had given her a few contacts to some high end gallery that would happen at the end of the month, and artstudent!reader is once again back on her grind. she stops to see the mistletoe, and frowns, turning her back on carlos, but to her surprise, he does the same and doesn’t even acknowledge her! she should be happy right? but she couldnt stop thinking about it, those stolen glances during the skiing trips, the way he snuggled against her when they were watching movies together. she even overheard his parents talking about how carlos pulled a few strings to get her that exhibition! she probably stands there pouting to herself as she wipes her hands, and seeing no action, carlos’s sisters leave the kitchen completely annoyed. as soon as they leave, carlos walks to stand behind her, gently nibbling her ear,

“how are you feeling, do you like my house?” theres a gentleness in his voice, that nearly makes her question if she’s dreaming or not. a small shrug of her shoulders as him giggling, “you’re still stubborn as ever, mi vida,” and his nose dives just below her ear, nuzzling fondly.

"thanks, i guess, for the art exhibition," she'd try her hardest to sound like she didn't care, but she couldn't stop the way her heart fluttered around her chest, refusing to quiet down. carlos's lips curve into a large smile, and he'd lower her to her knees before glancing around to make sure his sisters didn't walk back in.

"show me how thankful you are," he'd smirk. now tell me why artstudent!reader is unbuckling his belt as fast as she can? was she actually that down bad for him secretly? who knew, surely not her. she's sucking his cock like she was made just for that, and when he throws his head back, praise flowing out of his mouth, she smiles against him, she's living off of this. she's got his cock deep in her throat, palming his balls as he's cooing about how good her throat feels, how she's perfect, "oh, princesa, eres toda mia, eres tan perfecta" after he drowns her mouth with his cum, he'll pull her to her feet, his thumb brushing the last bits of his essence into her mouth as she sucks his thumb with wide eyes. a small chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he peppers her face with kisses. she'll probably glance up at the mistletoe, still in a rush from what just happened and with a teasing smile, he'll pull her into an actual kiss, not minding his own taste on his mouth for once.

so as the holiday break draws to a close, artstudent!reader has learned a LOT. for one, the sainz's family adores her to death, and will always text her about new exhibitions and artists to introduce her to. she's starting to attend social events, meeting rich people and being commissioned on the basis which will definitely help pay for college. carlos's sisters basically treat her like their best mate, always on phone calls with her and giggling about some drama that happened at their own university.

and as for carlos.

hehe, im sure our lovely reader thinks the whole charade was just for carlos to get in her pants and she whole heartedly believes that (even though she hates it beyond compare). she ignores him once she gets back to campus, once again on the study hard mindset that she always has. and then one day, she's out painting another banner for another football game but instead of a ball tipping paint onto her banner.

"ok, which idiot-" she pauses when she looks up to see carlos crouching next to her with a smile on his lips,

"the things i have to do to get your attention," he muses, and all she can do is blush madly, unable to stop herself from grinning insanely.

needless to say, carlos and her end up being permanently banned from the art closet. though, her teacher did make the exception saying she was only allowed there if she took a friend from her class with her. as for carlos, he'd have to come up with better places on campus to have sex with her. maybe, he'd invite her back home once more for a permanent stay.

[chlerc]

— summary; he believed you when you said you would fly over to celebrate his birthday with him, excited to see your face. but he didn’t know it’d be that easy for you to leave him without a trace.

pairing — jude bellingham x f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1630.

content — angst, like bad / sad ending. they don’t get a happy ever after ending. long distance friendship, she’s always here and there for him but never stayed long enough. secretly pining over each other

NAVIGATION + author’s note: wrote this when i was sick, the motivation and inspiration always strikes here. always putting my boy jude through the angsty stories lol

song recs for this fic — no one noticed.

The glow of Madrid’s street lights flickered in the corners of her vision as she adjusted her scarf, weaving through the late-night crowds that filled the cobblestone alleys of the city. Her heart beat in time with her steps, a rhythm that both grounded and unsettled her as she drew closer to his building. It felt surreal to be here — a place she’d only known through pixels and video calls, a place that lived solely in the stories he’d woven for her across distant lines.

The door swung open, and there he was — his face breaking into a grin, eyes bright with delight and something softer, something she couldn’t name but felt resonate in her chest. Without a word, he pulled her into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her so tightly that she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. “Didn’t expect you’d actually come,” he teased, though his eyes held a glint of something softer, something more grateful.

“Best birthday gift I could ask for,” he added, his tone light, yet his hold unwavering as though he feared she’d slip away. Pulling back, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his gaze lingering, studying her as though to make sure she was truly there.

“Well,” she murmured, brushing past him with a faint smile, “someone’s got to make sure you don’t spend your birthday alone.” She took in the room with its modest decor, the hints of his presence scattered in the form of art pieces, records stacked near the player, and an open notebook on the desk. He chuckled, closing the door behind her. “I told you, I don’t mind being alone.”

“Perhaps,” she replied, feigning an indifferent shrug. “But what if I do?” Her gaze met his, holding his for a moment before she turned away, pretending to inspect the records as though she hadn’t just travelled across countries to be here.

They settled into the evening slowly, an awkwardness blanketing them at first, a product of shared screens finally giving way to physical space. But eventually, laughter eased through the gaps, filling the quiet corners of his small apartment. They shared stories, exchanged quiet jokes, and lingered over glasses of wine that made the room feel warmer, the air laced with the scent of familiarity and anticipation.

As the evening deepened, they ventured out onto his balcony. The city lights stretched before them, bright and steady, twinkling with the same allure that had first drawn her to his words, to his enigmatic charm.

“Look at this view,” she whispered, her voice softened by awe. He shrugged, gazing at her instead of the skyline. “It’s just a city. It’s better with you here.” She smiled faintly, caught between the quiet euphoria of his words and the nagging reality that lingered at the edges of her mind. She knew she would leave soon, knew that this moment would end. The thought hung heavily between them, unspoken.

“Will you stay long?” he asked, finally breaking the silence, his voice a low murmur against the hum of the city. She exhaled, her breath curling in the cool night air. “I don’t know. Long enough, I suppose,” she replied, her words as carefully crafted as they were vague.

He reached out, catching her hand in his, a simple touch that anchored them amidst the unsteadiness of whatever this was. “You’re always like this,” he said, half-smiling. “Appearing out of nowhere and then vanishing like you’re a dream.”

“Maybe I am,” she murmured, meeting his gaze. “Maybe that’s all this ever was.” For a moment, the conversation hung heavy between them, layered with questions and fears neither dared voice. But then he laughed, and it softened the tension, bringing them back to a more familiar, playful place. “Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I should make the most of this dream while it lasts.”

Jude draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, the silence between them thick with unspoken sentiments. “You know, I don’t say this enough, but I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted, his voice a murmur in the cool night air. She looked up at him, searching his expression, and a pang of something bittersweet tugged at her. She wanted to stay in this warmth, this certainty, but she knew that come dawn, she would have to slip away.

“I’m glad I came too,” she replied softly, her voice barely a whisper. Jude’s gaze was soft as he looked down at her, thumb brushing her cheek as though memorising the contours of her face. For a brief, irrational moment, she wanted to tell him everything — that she wished she could stay, that she didn’t want to leave this, leave him. But she said nothing, instead resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, each beat a fleeting reassurance she knew would fade by morning.

They leaned into the quiet closeness, the moments blurring together as the evening stretched on, her laughter mingling with his in the warm light of the city. Time drifted, unbound, until the faintest hint of dawn crept across the skyline. She glanced at him, seeing the calm softness in his eyes as they drifted shut, his breathing even, and she knew that she’d fulfilled whatever it was she’d come to do.

When he finally awoke, the first rays of morning spilling through the curtains, he found himself alone. Her scarf was still draped over the back of a chair, her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He blinked, sitting up and looking around, the remnants of last night’s laughter still fresh on his lips. But the silence pressed in, weighted and still, like a final goodbye.

On the table, she’d left a small note, folded neatly with her handwriting sprawled across the front:

“Happy Birthday. See you in the spaces between.”

He laughed quietly, though it sounded more like a sigh, tracing his fingers over the words. The irony wasn’t lost on him. She’d become his obsession, his mystery, a presence as elusive as the dreams he could never quite hold on to. And though he didn’t know when — or even if — he’d see her again, he couldn’t shake the feeling that wherever she was, some part of her would always be right here, lingering in the traces she’d left behind.

With a soft sigh, he let the silence settle around him, her absence heavy in the early morning light. Her scarf, still draped over the chair, seemed almost like a placeholder, a faint whisper of her presence against the cold, hard truth of her departure. She’d left, slipped out as quietly as she’d arrived, like a carefully crafted illusion dissipating with the dawn. He ran his hand over the note she’d left behind, her familiar handwriting tracing the words: Happy Birthday. See you in the spaces between.

He let out a quiet laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh, his thumb brushing over the ink, her words as gentle and evasive as she’d been. There was a charm to her mystery, an allure to the way she moved in and out of his life, almost as though she existed just beyond his reach, a mirage in a desert he didn’t know he’d been wandering. But this time, there was an ache behind his eyes, a quiet longing that tugged with a new intensity, as though some part of him had grown tired of the chase, of these small doses of her presence that he could never quite hold onto.

A sudden impulse tugged at him. He grabbed a pen from his desk, leaning over the small note she’d left. His fingers brushed the page as he wrote, the words forming slowly, deliberately, almost as though he was afraid of what they might reveal. 

“Don't leave me without a trace; it can’t be that easy please,” he wrote, his handwriting messy and sprawling in contrast to her neat scrawl. He paused, watching the ink dry, knowing she’d never see his reply, yet there was a strange comfort in writing it all the same, as if committing his thoughts to paper might somehow reach her, wherever she was.

He lingered over the note a moment longer, then folded it carefully, tucking it into a drawer with a sense of finality he didn’t quite feel. The silence that filled the room felt heavier now, loaded with the words left unsaid, the moments that had slipped through his fingers like sand.

In her absence, he found himself tracing back through their time together, each memory sharp and vivid, yet fleeting, like flashes of light in a darkened room. He recalled the way she’d laughed under the city lights, the way her voice had softened when she’d whispered, “Maybe I’m just a dream.” It was as if she’d known she would leave, had planned it all along, and he couldn’t decide whether to be grateful for the moments they’d shared or resentful of the empty space she’d left behind.

Yet he knew that her departure, as difficult as it was to accept, had always been part of her. She was as unpredictable as the wind, as elusive as a distant star, and perhaps that was what had drawn him to her in the first place. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the window, to the soft glow of morning light that seemed to fill every corner of the room with a quiet, bittersweet warmth.

And though he knew he would miss her — miss her laugh, her voice, the quiet moments they’d shared — he couldn’t shake the sense that some part of her would always linger here, an unspoken promise hanging in the air, caught between the spaces of their fleeting time together.

[footballfanficwriter]

First day

Summary: where it's Kylian's Real Madrid presentation and the reader is there on by his side

I wake up to the soft light filtering through our bedroom window in Paris, and I feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling in my chest. Tomorrow is the day Kylian officially becomes a Real Madrid player. As I slowly slide out of bed, trying not to wake him, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water does little to calm my racing thoughts, but it gives me a moment to compose myself.

I dress in a stylish yet comfortable outfit, knowing the day will be long and full of events. As I finish getting ready, Kylian wakes up, stretching and yawning. He looks at me with those beautiful eyes of his, filled with love and anticipation.

"Good morning, my love," he says, his voice husky from sleep.

"Morning," I reply, smiling as he pulls me into a warm embrace.

He kisses my forehead. "Today’s the day we move. Are you ready?"

"More than ready," I say, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. We share a tender kiss before heading downstairs to our waiting car.

The ride to the airport is filled with light conversation and laughter. Kylian's hand never leaves mine, his thumb gently stroking my skin. The city of Paris rushes by outside the window, but my focus is entirely on him. He looks so calm, so confident, and it reassures me.

As we board the private plane, I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement. The flight attendants greet us warmly, and we settle into our seats. Kylian wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

"Can you believe it? We’re actually moving to Madrid," he says, his voice filled with awe.

"I know. It feels surreal," I reply, resting my head on his shoulder. "But I’m so proud of you."

He kisses the top of my head. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N."

The flight is smooth, and we spend most of it cuddled together. Kylian talks about his dreams and plans for his career in Madrid, and I listen, my heart swelling with pride. Every now and then, he kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my lips – each touch sending shivers down my spine.

Upon landing in Madrid, we are greeted by a driver who takes us to our hotel. The energy of the city is palpable, and I can feel the excitement of the fans already. Our suite is nothing short of spectacular, with a breathtaking view of Madrid.

Kylian takes my hand, pulling me close to the window. "Look at this, Y/N. Our new home," he says, his voice filled with wonder.

I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into me. "It’s beautiful, just like you," I murmur.

He turns to face me, his hands cradling my face. "Not as beautiful as you," he whispers before kissing me deeply. Our kiss is filled with promise and passion, a silent vow of the future we are about to build together.

We decide to take the rest of the day to relax and adjust to our new surroundings. We explore the hotel, take a leisurely walk around the nearby area, and enjoy a quiet dinner together. Every moment is precious, and I savor the time we have to just be with each other.

The morning of Kylian’s medical tests, we wake up early. I make sure he has a nutritious breakfast, knowing he’ll need the energy. He takes my hand as we head to the medical facility, his grip firm and reassuring.

The facility is state-of-the-art, filled with bustling staff and high-tech equipment. Kylian is taken to a room for his tests, and I wait in a comfortable lounge area. My heart races with anticipation and pride. As I sit there, I receive reassuring texts from him, letting me know that everything is going smoothly.

After what feels like an eternity, he emerges with a confident smile. "All good," he says, pulling me into a hug.

"I never doubted it," I reply, kissing his cheek.

We head to the Real Madrid headquarters next, where he’ll sign his contract. The atmosphere is electric, filled with anticipation and excitement

The room where Kylian will sign his contract is grand, with an air of importance. As we enter, we’re greeted by club officials and media personnel. I take a seat beside Kylian, our fingers intertwined.

The club president gives a brief speech about Kylian’s achievements and the club’s excitement to have him join. Then, Kylian is handed the contract. He takes a moment to look at me, his eyes filled with emotion.

"Ready?" he asks softly.

"Always," I whisper back.

He signs the contract, officially becoming a Real Madrid player. The room erupts in applause, and I can’t help but beam with pride. Kylian pulls me into a celebratory kiss, his lips warm and soft against mine.

After the signing, we move to the press conference room. Kylian takes his place at the front, and I find a spot where I can see him clearly. The room is packed with journalists, cameras flashing nonstop.

Kylian looks calm and composed as he begins answering questions. His eyes occasionally find mine, and we share silent, affectionate glances.

"How does it feel to finally be a part of Real Madrid?" a journalist asks.

"It’s a dream come true," Kylian responds. "I’ve always admired this club, and I’m excited to contribute to its success."

He glances at me, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. I smile back, giving him a small nod of encouragement.

"Can you tell us about your decision to join Real Madrid?" another journalist inquires.

Kylian takes a deep breath, his gaze flickering to me before he speaks. "It was a tough decision, but ultimately, I felt that Real Madrid was the right place for me to continue my career. The club has a rich history and a passionate fan base, and I’m looking forward to being a part of that."

Our eyes meet again, and he subtly nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. I can’t help but feel a swell of pride and love for him.

Throughout the press conference, we share these silent moments of connection. When he talks about his family and his support system, his eyes soften, and I know he’s thinking of me. I feel a sense of pride and warmth wash over me, knowing that I am a part of his journey.

The next day, we head to the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium. The stands are filled with ecstatic fans, all eager to welcome their new star. The energy is electric, and Kylian steps up to the podium, looking every bit the confident and poised athlete he is.

"Hola, Madridistas," he begins, his voice strong and confident. "This is a dream come true for me. I’ve always admired this club, and I’m excited to be here."

He pauses, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before settling on me. "I want to thank my mom, my dad, my siblings, and my incredible wife, Y/N, for always supporting me. Without their love and encouragement, I wouldn’t be standing here today."

His mom is in tears, and I quickly move to her side, wiping away her tears and rubbing her back comfortingly. "He’s amazing," I whisper, and she nods, smiling through her tears.

Kylian continues his speech, talking about his goals and aspirations for his time at Real Madrid. His passion and dedication are evident, and I can see the fans are just as captivated as I am.

"I promise to give my all for this club and its fans," he says, his voice filled with determination. "Together, we will achieve great things, ¡HALA MADRID!

The crowd roars in approval, and I feel a swell of pride and love for him. He glances at me, and I give him an encouraging smile.

After his speech, it’s time for the family photo. His parents step onto the stage, posing proudly with him. Kylian looks around and notices I’m not there. He signals for me to join them, but I shake my head, indicating I’ll stay out of the picture. He doesn’t take no for an answer. Walking over to me, he takes my hand and leads me onto the stage.

"You're part of this family, Amore. Always," he whispers, his eyes locking with mine.

We pose for the picture, standing next to the Real Madrid president. I feel Kylian’s arm around my waist, holding me close. The camera flashes, capturing this unforgettable moment.

The rest of the day is a blur of celebrations and fan greetings. Kylian walks around the stadium, shaking hands and thanking the fans. I watch him, my heart swelling with pride and love. When we finally return to our hotel room, we’re both exhausted but elated.

As soon as we close the door behind us, Kylian pulls me into his arms, kissing me passionately. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you," he murmurs between kisses.

We collapse onto the bed, cuddling close. He becomes clingy, holding me tightly as if afraid to let go. "What do you think our life will be like here?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder.

"I think it will be amazing," I reply, running my fingers through his hair. "We have each other, and that’s all we need."

He smiles, kissing me gently. "I love you so much, Y/N."

"I love you too, Kylian," I whisper, our foreheads touching. "Forever."

We spend the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about the day and dreaming about our future in Madrid. Every kiss, every touch, and every word is filled with love and promise. This is the start of a beautiful new chapter in our lives, and I couldn’t be happier to share it with the love of my life

After a while of Kylian and I having our conversation and he's fallen asleep on my stomach, I decide to check people's reactions and what they thought, occasionally smiling at their comments

@FabrizioRomano: 🚨 Official and confirmed: Kylian Mbappé is now a Real Madrid player. Contract signed until 2028. Here we go! #HalaMadrid ⚪️🔴

@RMadridUpdates:The King has arrived! Welcome to Real Madrid, Kylian Mbappé! This is going to be legendary! #Mbappe2028

@FootballAddict: Mbappé to Real Madrid is the biggest transfer of the decade! Can’t wait to see him in white. #Galactico #Mbappe

@LaLigaLover:With Mbappé at Real Madrid, La Liga just got a whole lot more exciting! Let's go! #HalaMadrid #Mbappe

@KylianFanClub: So proud of Kylian! He’s finally living his dream. Real Madrid is the perfect place for him. #Mbappe2028

@RomanticSportsFan: Did anyone else notice the way Kylian kept looking at his wife during the press conference? So much love! #RelationshipGoals #MbappeLove

@FootballGossip: Kylian Mbappé’s wife might be the real MVP here. Those supportive glances and little gestures... True love! #Mbappe

@FanGirlCentral:Okay, but the way Kylian’s wife wiped his mom’s tears and rubbed her back was so sweet. She’s already a fan favorite! #MbappeFamily

@TheRealMadridista: Mbappé signaling his wife to join the family photo... Can we talk about how cute that was? #CoupleGoals #Mbappe

@SportsRomantics: Watching Kylian and his wife exchange those little glances during his speech was everything. You can tell they’re so in love. #MbappeLoveStory

@RealMadridFans: A new chapter begins with Kylian Mbappé at Real Madrid! His wife is such a supportive partner. We stan! #HalaMadrid #Mbappe

   - Comment: @LoveFootball: The way he looked at his wife during the press conference was just 🥺❤️ True love! #MbappeLove

@FootballRomantics: The way Kylian looked at his wife during the press conference was just... 🥺❤️ True love right there. #Mbappe

   -Comment: @GoalDreams: They’re such a beautiful couple! #CoupleGoals

@SportsLoveStory:Did you see how Kylian walked over to his wife and brought her onto the stage? My heart! #CoupleGoals #Mbappe

   -Comment:@FanZone: That was the cutest thing ever! They belong together. #MbappeFamily

@FootballMoments:That moment when Kylian’s wife comforted his mom was so touching. She’s already part of the family. #MbappeFamily

   - Comment: @TearsOfJoy: She’s such a sweetheart! #FamilyFirst

@MadridistaLove: Kylian and his wife’s love story is the real deal. Watching them today was like a movie. #MbappeLove

  - Comment:@FootballHeart: True love exists and they are the proof! #HalaMadrid

Overall I'm just so happy that Kylian was able to fulfill his dream and I'm so honoured to be stood by his side as he makes this transition

[bullet-prooflove]

Wes Mitchell + letter 💌 dancing🕺full moon 🌚

Tagging: @kmc1989 @toasted-stiletto @crusoe2000 @vivekaspencer @fanny-123456

Companion piece to:

Budapest

Zserbo

Wes shouldn’t have left the letter, he realises that as he sits at a table in a club called The Full Moon in Madrid, sipping a coke and surveilling their suspect. The idiot has been dancing with a blonde for the past hour and it’s starting to get pornographic. So much so that even Wes is averting his gaze because his idea of a fun night is not watching a drug dealer fingerfuck a stranger on the dancefloor.

He turns his attention back to his phone, to the message you’d text him earlier today.

Sorry Wes, I think it’s time for you to start looking for your own place.

He pushed you too hard, he thinks, trying to get you on board with the flight team. And this is you pushing back. You think he doesn’t know the extent of your psychological issues but you have no idea how deeply familiar he is with PTSD,  the insidiousness of it. He went through 12 foster homes before he found his forever family, he was seven shades of fucked up long before he hit 18.

The thing is you’re a phenomenal investigator, one of the best he’s worked with. The way you work with victims, it’s almost an art form. You have an appreciation for people, a deep emotional intelligence that you just can’t teach back at the academy and Wes wants that on his team. He wants you to be out in the world using your superpower for good.

And that’s the problem, he’s been thinking about his needs and not about yours. He didn’t consider the fact you might not be ready yet, that you’re still coming to terms with what was the most harrowing case of your career. It’s the reason you left the US, why you took up a teaching position at the International Training Academy.

Recovery takes time, his adopted father had told him one night as they sat together drinking chocolate milk. It was something they always did when Wes woke up from the nightmares. A way of turning something negative into a positive. Everyone has to go at their own pace, you can’t force it.

He needs to remember that in the future, that just because he can’t see the struggle  doesn’t mean that it’s not going on.  

His fingertips hover over the keys. It’s hard for him to find the right words for what he wants to say because this should be an actual conversation, not an exchange of messages through the ether.

I pushed you,  he responds, and I’m sorry for that. I should have been more respectful of your boundaries. If you still want me to move out by the time I get back, consider it done.

He sees the three dots appear and then disappear, then reappear before the message comes through.

We’ll talk when you get back.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[moviecritc]

dreamer ⋆ carlos sainz

pairing: carlos sainz x old friend!reader

summary: you leave the city searching a meaning to your life, founding an old friends instead

word count: 2K

warnings: carlos isn't a driver, just a really rich guy with hobbies

a/n: here's the first track of my bewitched department <33 i love reader and carlos so so much tbh

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

"I'm sick of all this, Natalie," Y/N declared, throwing her phone on the sofa. Her roommate diverted her gaze from the TV to her. "It's the fourth guy that ghosted me after I ask him out."

"Become a lesbian," said Natalie, turning her attention back to the movie.

Y/N let out a sigh. "I should. I'm tired of all men being assholes and manipulators."

She grimaced, thinking that maybe the problem wasn't men but her. She had studied Art History and had been the best in her class. Now, at 28, she was sharing an apartment and teaching preteens who called her 'ma'am.' Was she wasting her life?

"I need a change," she said to herself.

"The smell goes away with a shower, don't worry." Natalie looked at her, wrinkling her nose.

"No, damn it. A change in my routine," she explained. Nevertheless, she took a sniff at her armpit, regretting it. She'd shower later. "I need to get out of here."

She stood up, grabbed her phone, and headed to her room.

"Hey? And where are you going, if I may ask?" said Natalie, following her.

"Anywhere!" Y/N shrugged. She drank a glass of water and took out a couple of pieces of clothing. "I need to change the scenery as soon as possible, I'm stuck."

She pulled a small suitcase from her closet while her roommate rolled her eyes.

"Y/N, you can't just leave suddenly. Don't you have classes tomorrow?"

Y/N paused for a moment and then shrugged again. "I'll ask for the day off. The week, actually."

"The week!" exclaimed Natalie. Y/N was already looking at flights on her phone when Natalie covered her screen. "Y/N, you don't have the financial or mental stability for this!"

Y/N swatted Natalie's hand away to see her phone screen.

"Madrid is very cheap this time of year," she said, with a small smile.

"But you don't even speak Spanish!"

Y/N boarded a plane to Madrid with the idea of not talking to any men that week. This trip was for her, to reconnect with herself, the Y/N she had lost over the years.

She still didn't have a place to stay, but she would resolve that on the go. The journey from the airport to central Madrid was tedious; she didn't know how the metro worked and people ignored her like she was nothing. Frustrated, she sat in a café. She looked up things to do in Madrid on her phone, but soon the battery died, and she was sure she had forgotten her charger at the apartment.

She let out a long sigh and ran her hands over her face. As she opened her eyes, she heard a voice.

"Y/N?"

She looked up immediately, surprised that someone knew who she was in Madrid. When she met the gaze of the individual, she recognized him instantly.

"Carlos?"

She stood up immediately, greeting him. Was he a man? Yes but Carlos and she had gone to university together; they had been friends for several years. Probably best friends, though they never talked about it. He hadn't changed much; he looked older but in a positive way, with a more flattering haircut and surprisingly stronger.

"What are you doing here?" Carlos asked, leaning in for a short hug.

"On vacation," Y/N nodded. Running into him had instantly lifted her spirits.

"Damn, I haven't seen you in… six years?" Carlos tilted his head a bit.

"Since graduation, right?"

They both nodded; it had been quite a while. Long enough to realize they had lost contact too soon.

"I didn't expect to see you in Madrid," commented Carlos, with a smile.

"It was a last-minute decision," explained Y/N, wrinkling her nose a bit. She formed a smile. "I'm glad to see you, really. Do you want to sit for a bit?" she suggested, pointing to the empty chair.

"I'd love to," Carlos accepted the invitation immediately, sitting down.

A waiter approached, and Carlos ordered a coffee to accompany Y/N's.

"Well, tell me, what have you been up to all these years?" Carlos asked, crossing one leg.

Y/N told him a bit of everything, very sweetened. That she was teaching Geography and History at a public school, that her family was fine, and they reminisced about the time Carlos practically crashed her Christmas party because Carlos Sainz Senior was mad at him for his grades and that she was happy living in her city.

Carlos told her that he now worked at his father's company as an executive.

"Oh, I thought you’d be doing something related to what we studied," Y/N pressed her lips a bit, somewhat disappointed that Carlos hadn't continued doing what they both loved.

"I would have loved to… but there were very few job opportunities. And I didn't want to be a teacher, so I played it safe," admitted Carlos, shrugging a bit. For a moment, he thought Y/N would judge him for it, but her sweet and calm expression told him otherwise.

"Understandable not wanting to be a teacher," agreed Y/N, before sipping her coffee.

"Is it tough?" Carlos mimicked her, lifting his cup too.

Y/N shook her head a bit. "I'm sure there are worse things. But having a twelve-year-old try to cut your hair because his dad is bald is rather curious."

Carlos almost choked on his coffee from the sudden laughter. "Really?" He tried to stifle the laughter as best as he could, but Y/N was already glaring at him.

"No, no. It's not funny, it happens every damn day," she nodded vigorously. Carlos let out a laugh that ended up being contagious for Y/N too.

The conversation continued for the rest of the afternoon. It was like going back to university for a few hours, a time she missed a lot. When they decided to get up from the table, they had finished four coffees and at least one glass of wine. It was even starting to get cold outside.

"Shall I walk you to your hotel?" Carlos asked with a smirk.

Y/N grimaced, remembering she still hadn't sorted that out. She bit the inside of her cheek, embarrassed. "I haven't booked a hotel room yet."

"Oh," he pursed his lips and quickly said, "You can stay at my place, I have a spare room."

Y/N, hearing him speak, was already shaking her head. "No, no, no. I don't want to bother you."

Carlos clicked his tongue, looking away for a moment.

"How are you going to bother me? Come on, bring your suitcase. My car is parked nearby."

Y/N was intrigued by Carlos's initiative but kept shaking her head.

"Really, it's not necessary, Carlos," Y/N extended her arms a bit for Carlos to return her suitcase, but he even moved it away from her hands. "I'll manage."

She said that last part to ease him a bit, but it only sounded like she needed more help.

"Y/N, I'm not going to leave you out on the street," Carlos put his hands on his hips and she let out a sigh. "That's not very gentlemanly of me."

"You were never a gentleman, you idiot," noted Y/N. Carlos smiled, knowing that if Y/N started to insult you, she was about to agree with you. "Alright, but just for one night. Then I'll find a hotel."

"Whatever you say, cariño," Carlos smiled triumphantly, and Y/N tried to hide her smile while he put her suitcase in the trunk.

His apartment was huge, truly huge. A dream kitchen, a large living room, and definitely more than one spare room. As they entered, a beautiful brown and white dog greeted them, heading straight for Carlos's legs.

"And who is this?" said Y/N, petting his head a bit, enough for the animal to focus all its attention on her. He sniffed Y/N's shoes and licked the hems of her pants.

"His name is Piñón," said Carlos with a smile, surprised that Piñón hadn't started barking because of a stranger's presence. "I adopted him almost after we graduated."

Y/N crouched, petting Piñón's neck and behind his ears. "Hi, Piñón. You're so pretty."

"I'll show you the room," Carlos said.

Y/N got up, giving Piñon one last pet. "Thank you, really. I feel like an abandoned cat, but thank you."

They both chuckled softly.

"It's nothing," Carlos said as they went to the room.

Y/N left her suitcase in a corner and turned to Carlos. "Do you have a charger?"

She felt like she was taking advantage of him too much, even if it was just for a charger, she felt bad.

"Of course, here," Carlos handed her the charger, their hands touched for a millisecond. She tried so hard not to feel anything. He kept a flirty smile. "Are you hungry?"

"Well, yes," Y/N nodded. "But give me a few minutes and I'll help you cook."

Y/N took a couple of things out of her suitcase and went back to the kitchen to help Carlos. They quickly cooked some pasta with burrata. Y/N noticed how Carlos would get close to her or brush his hands against hers casually.

While cutting some tomatoes, the knife slipped from Carlos’s hand. "Shit!" Carlos looked at the cut and put his finger in his mouth, letting out several whimpers.

"Did you cut yourself?" Y/N went over to him, Carlos took his finger out of his mouth, showing her a small cut. Y/N pursed her lips, remembering how dramatic he could be. "It's nothing, Carlos. It's barely bleeding."

Y/N cradled his hand, gently caressing his fingers almost unconsciously. The room went silent, Carlos looked into her eyes, he adored that look. Y/N lifted her eyes, connecting them with Carlos’s. He leaned toward her, listening to her breathing and matching his to it.

"Can I kiss you?"

The question hung in the air. Y/N held her breath. This was the opposite of what she wanted. She blinked and slightly opened her mouth. To Carlos, it felt like an eternity.

"I'm sorry," Y/N said in a faint voice. She looked at him with pity and Carlos stepped back, feeling more embarrassed than ever. "It's just… it's not the right time. I'm in a bit of a strange phase and things aren't going well for me, I don't want to mess things up for you." Y/N fidgeted with her rings as she said it.

"I understand," Carlos said, nodding slowly. "I shouldn't have asked you that, it was out of place."

"No, I should have told you before," she contradicted, with a grimace.

"Don't worry," he said. "It's just that…," Carlos hesitated a bit. "In college I had a huge crush on you and seeing you again brought everything back."

Y/N blinked, absorbing those words. She had always wondered why Carlos barely dated any girls during their time in college, it never crossed her mind it could be because of her.

"You had a crush on me?"

"You didn't know?"

"No…"

"Damn, we spent so much time together,"

"Because we were friends! That's what friends do!"

They both laughed and Carlos leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.

"So, you're not having a good time?" he inquired, with a calm look.

Y/N lowered her gaze. "I'm trying to sort out my life."

"I understand," he bit the inside of his cheek. "Anyway, if once you sort out your life you feel like going on a date, I haven't changed my number."

That felt so good in Y/N's chest, as if her heart expanded a little. She laughed like a fool, taking a few steps back.

"I'm going to go to sleep,"

"You're not having dinner with me?" Carlos extended his arms, with a sad look.

"Maybe tomorrow," Y/N turned around and smiled over her shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

taglist; @theseerbetweenus

[brainjvice]

One of my fave Ryusae headcanons is that, once Ryusei finds out about Sae's favorite animal, he starts to gift him handmade trinkets of (fat) seagulls. He makes them himself and each one of them is crafted using a peculiar technique.

So you get several seagull portraits, one made with acrylics, another with watercolours, another one with crayons and so on. Sae knows he is fairly ignorant when it comes to art and history of art, but even he has noticed each portrait is made using a specific painter's technique. Ok, not gonna lie, he picked out on it after Shidou had gifted him the seagull-fied version of the Guernica (luckily, it was also way smaller than the original painting, although still very recogniseable). After that he has started to pay attention to the details of each painting, bought a art history book and realised how insane Ryusei was.

Then, there's that one fat seagull sculpted with clay, which is also wearing a...? Hand-sown Re Al jersey. Another one made out of fucking glass, which, yeah, looks definitely wonky, but still manages to appear seagull-shaped enough. Sae still wonders if Shidou actually paid a whole ass class on glass-making just to gift him that.

Then, you get Sae's all time favorite: the amigurumi seagull. A big ass plush of the chonkiest seagull ever that Shidou had personally crocheted himself. The concept of Ryusei – of all people – picking up crochet just to make that monster of a plush made Sae's brain vibrate in a way he didn't know was possible. He sleeps with it every night but hides it in the closet when Ryusei comes over.

Of course, he barely shows any emotion everytime Shidou gives him his...? monthly? (there isnt any proper schedule so its always a surprise) seagull-themed gift, yet he takes very attentive care of each one of them. If you ever managed to enter his apartment in Madrid and then go into Sae's "study", you will find the whole collection there. Sae has hung every picture and painting Ryusei has gifted him throughout the years, and the other handmade seagulls carefully sit behind the glass of an antique sideboard. The study room is, of course, under lock and key whenever Ryusei stays at his place.

[yeahxsurexokay13]

fraternising with the enemy - jude bellingham

part viii - instagram official

summary: jude and maia post each other for the first time

judebellingham

Liked by jamestaylor and 4.807.017 others

judebellingham felicidad.

view all 37.159 comments

user1 Star shining in Madrid 🌟

judefan1 NOTHING COULD'VE PREPARED ME FOR THAT LAST SLIDE

fan3 maia's dad liked!!!!!!

vinijr 😍😍

judefan2 If you’re happy we’re happy too 😍😍

fan1 last slide.

lucasjames.t qué buen español, amigo 🤪

judebellingham poco a poco 🤣🤝🏽

judefan4 the brothers in law aw

user2 Bellingham viva la madre que te parió 🤣🤣😭😭😭😭 eres el goat [long live the mother who gave birth to you. you're the goat.] 

trentarnold66 Lover boy ❤️

judebellingham dawg 🫶🏽

user3 look bro don't mess up and play well now that you have a gf 

judefan3 Wholesome 🫶🏾

fan2 Kicking my feet in bed and giggling this is sO CuTE

lucasvazquez Uauuuuuu what a smile 😂😂

user4 @/user5 I KNEW IT

user5 i was hoping you were wrong 🤧😭😭

maia.graceee

Liked by and 3.431.135 others

maia.graceee the week in review 11/10

view all 13.268 comments

fan1 I CANT BREATJE

fan2 4 pic 😢 get well soon @/pablogavi

user1 she knows what she's doing 😂😂

fan4 not you sneaking the jude pics as if nothing

bereal 👀🖤

judefan1 I can't believe he flew to london w her for the 'the artful dodger' promo and we didn't even suspect a thing

fan3 makes me wonder how many more times they''ve been together without us knowing

user2 my girlfriend and her boyfriend

judefan3 for some reason the thought of maia making jude watch a barça match with her is so funny lol

judefan2 WE NEED MORE? ??

fan5 slides 4,5&6 are actually so funny to see one after the other

user3 THE 6TH PICTURE LMFAO

user4 not much to say .😢

[nemolfc]

𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧 - 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐨.

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬.

( 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ? 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐭. )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.

If there's one thing Y/N disliked with passion, it was interviews, any kind of interviews.

Being hailed as one of the top ballerinas was an honor, she never took it for granted and always strived to better herself with every show she performed in - the world loved her and she loved to give back through the art of performing, and it was because that, she had met the love of her life ... Cristiano Ronaldo, the Portuguese star of Real Madrid.

It's one thing to find love, yet it's an entirely other thing if it was the person you had an affinity for most of your life.

Y/N was a die hard fan of Los Blancos - however, she'd worked so hard to conceal that so as to not appear weird in front of others, all the while she made sure to attend every match, be it for la liga or the champions league.

It never occurred her that the man she adored so much admired her dancing yet according to him, he admired how hardworking she was and how it reminded him of himself, small dinner dates here and there lead to a beautiful relationship forming a year later.

Contrast to the misconception people had of him, Cristiano had been nothing but sweet and attentive for her, and while she too had recieved a substantial amount of hate with some claiming that she's using him for fame and wealth, it seemed to not affect him seeing as he had told her that he knew her, the real her.

Nearing their two year anniversary, Cristiano was invited to be on the cover of GQ magazine and had worked his way into it becoming a joint cover for the two of them, along with an interview which would help. set the record straight in regards to their relationship.

The questions were fairy typical and tame, how do they go about with their routines? why they chose their respective careers? and what do they hope to accomplish in the near future, Y/N was visibly nervous however Cristiano had tried his best to silently reassure her by grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently while he continued to answer questions, and as they neared halfway through their interview, the questions had shifted into another direction.

" Y/N, have you always known the magnitude of Cristiano's fame? and how well known he was as a football player? "

Y/N smiled, then nodded before giggling. " Well, no one is blind to how impactful he's been as a Real Madrid player and a player for his national team? to me, that's one of the many things I admire about him, he's passionate about football, the same way I'm passionate about ballet "

" Did he turn you into a football fan? "

Y/N's face grows warm, " I am actually a football fan way before I met him "

" Really! " Cristiano raised a brow.

" Listen, I've kept this hidden so as to not appear weird but I am obsessed with football, I mean I'm Spanish and I was raised in a football loving household, so it wasn't hard not to fall in love with the sport and what it stands for " Y/N giggles.

" How come you've never told me that? " Cristiano wonders.

" It never came up " Y/N shrugs.

A few more questions later, and another question pops up that definitely embarrassed her.

" Y/N, who's your celebrity crush? "

Y/N hides her face which made Cristiano chuckle, " It's ok, I won't be mad "

" That's the thing " Y/N laughs softly, " My celebrity crush is the man I'm in love with "

Cristiano laughs, " Is that so? "

" Yes, I'm a fan after all " Y/N shrugs with a grin.

Once the interview wrapped up, they return home to rest before stepping out for dinner and that's when Cristiano asked her, " You had a crush on me huh? " he wraps his arms around her from behind.

Y/N smiles, " A big crush, that's why it was hard for me to be outspoken around you "

" Well to be fair " Cristiano chuckles, " I had a big crush on you as well, and here we are "

" I love you " Y/N smiles.

" I love you too " Cristiano kisses her cheek.

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD prompt: First and/or Second David in the roleswap AU where Maggie's on Team Leverage and Nate's oblivious and still with IYS?

 It’s a decent forgery, Maggie has to admit. Not good enough to fool her, but damn close. And even knowing how much she hates him, Blackpool won’t doubt her word.  Not over the Second David. She could hand him something from a high school ceramics class and it would take him a moment to realize, and the statute that Sophie and Hardison put together over the last weekend is far better than that. She’s so close. She can taste revenge in her smiling mouth, like the vodka Sophie took from her the night they met.  Ian will take the bait and look the fool.  It won’t bring back Sam. She got into this game too late for that. Her ex would have said this was justice, but it’s not, and she knows the difference. “Sophie,” she says into the coms. “Come on. I need you to close the deal.” “I’m a little busy,” Sophie’s  regular accent returnes, the Italian she’d worn for the evening melting away. “There’s someone here who, uh. Recognized me.” Well. Shit. Maggie knows who that has to be. There’s only one person here who’d see through Sophie’s guise, and it’s the same person who’s the only threat to the game she and the crew are running. Hell, he’d know all of them, if not by face by some other means. She’s fairly certain that Nate never actually caught up with Parker or Eliot, but Sophie and Hardison…. Maggie takes a sip of her drink, and thinks. Nate won’t be distracted for long, and while the Vatican angle isn’t strictly required for the con to work, Sophie being spotted on the same night the prodigal art examiner returns will draw suspicion they can’t afford. “I’ll let you think over my price,” she tells Ian, handing him her empty glass like he’s no better than the bussers, and slips into the minglers.   It’s a risk. She left. And Nate was never-- he loved her, she knew that. But he wasn’t all hers. He loved the hunt too much. Not enough that he’d stray, but she opened the barn door and bolted, the day she’d woken up in an empty apartment and a text on her phone saying he’d had to fly to Madrid on work. Their son was cold in the ground and he’d left because the man who’d put him there had asked. What if he didn’t look twice? What if he did and then away?

“Maggie?” he asks, his voice and hand snaking out to touch her, and as she’d hoped, turning away from Sophie. “Is that--you… you look…” he trails off.

“Nate,” she says, quietly. “You look… busy.” Has he always looked that tired?  Have his eyes always been that hard? Maybe she is simply looking at him the way Sophie’s taught her to evaluate a mark. The way she looks for falsehoods in a brushstroke. Everything about him rings sad, but trying.

“I am. Uh. There was a case with a stolen Manet last week. We could have-- I could have used you.”

“I’m sure you managed,” she says, glancing around the party. “Or you’d hardly be celebrating.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, hard. “No one’s heard from you since…”

Maggie files that away. She’d have thought James would have said something. That he hasn’t is worrying. “I don’t have time for this,” she says, brushing him off, the reverse of Eliot pulling in the would be movie star. Unapproachable is easy enough, when she doesn’t want attention. She’s not sure she doesn’t, is the only thing.

“Maggie, wait,” he says, grabbing her hand and looking at her, the way Ian looked at the photo of the statue. The way Parker stares at deadbolts in bank vaults. “What did I do wrong?”

“I think he’s forgotten Sophie,” Hardison says in her ear, helpful, helpful. “So you can scoot. Blackpool’s by the shrimp.”

Maggie fights her own feet. She can’t tell him the truth. He’s always been so black and white, right down to the canvas.  She can’t pour out the can of grey paint and thinner she’s carting around in her heart without destroying the man she used to love. She can’t pull away, either.

“It wasn’t you,” she says, though that’s never going to be the full truth. “Let me go, Nate. please.”

His hand drops as if she’d struck him. “Maggie…”

“I’m sorry, Nate,” she says. “Don’t look for me.”

She knows he will. She’ll just have to have a better lie, for the next time.

[mariacallous]

California Gov. Gavin Newsom signed a bill Monday aimed at advancing the restitution of Nazi-looted art, as well as personal property stolen during the Holocaust and other eras of political persecution.

The legislation is a response to a court ruling that allowed a work by Camille Pissarro to remain in a Spanish museum instead of returning to the heirs of its original owners. The 1897 painting, called “Rue Saint-Honoré in the Afternoon, Effect of Rain,” belonged to Fritz and Lilly Cassirer, a Jewish couple who sold it under duress to escape the Nazis.

The painting by Pissarro, a French Jewish impressionist, now hangs in the Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza in Madrid. The museum has claimed ownership of the work under a “finders keepers” law of property ownership that is unique to Spain.

In January, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals was instructed to decide the case according to California state law. But it ruled that, even according to California, Spain’s legal system took precedence. “Rue Saint-Honoré,” according to that decision, belonged to the museum.

The new California law, signed at Los Angeles’ Holocaust Museum, clarifies that California law should take precedence in local Holocaust art restitution cases. It allows Californians “to bring an action for damages or to recover artwork or personal property, as defined, that was stolen or otherwise lost as the result of political persecution.”

According to the law, “California substantive law shall apply in actions to recover fine art,” and that “the true owner cannot be divested of ownership without actual discovery of their rights in, and the location and possessor of, the artwork.”

The legislation could send the decades-long ownership dispute over the Pisarro painting back to the courts — and award the painting to the Cassirers’ descendants.

“As a Holocaust survivor, the proudest day of my father’s life was in 1947, when he became a U.S. citizen,” David Cassirer, grandson of Fritz and Lilly Cassirer, told the LA Times. “He would be so happy, and grateful, that the people of the state of California have taken action to ensure the return of looted art to its rightful owners.”

Spain is one of the original 44 international signatories of the Washington Principles, a 1998 framework for restituting artwork stolen during the Holocaust. In 2018, Stuart Eizenstadt, the Secretary of State’s special advisor on Holocaust issues, named Spain as one of five countries that fell short on its commitment to the Washington Principles.

Authorities in New York City and around the world have made renewed efforts in recent years to restitute art that was sold under duress due to Nazi persecution. Earlier this year, 21 countries agreed to new standards in art restitution at a conference marking the 25th anniversary of the Washington Principles.

“Restitution is important, not just to get people their property back, but because it is a way to examine the true realities of the Holocaust and keep those facts in the public consciousness,” Sam Dubbin, an attorney representing the Cassirer family, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “It’s stolen property. It’s the Holocaust, which makes it 1,000 times worse, but it’s still fundamentally stolen property. And no one should be able to keep stolen property.”

The oil painting was bought directly from Camille Pissarro by German Jewish industrialist and art collector Julius Cassirer, who passed it down to his son Fritz and his wife Lilly. Lilly was forced to sell the painting under duress in 1939 for about $360 at the time in order to obtain an exit visa for England. The money was then deposited into a bank account that she was not permitted to access.

The painting made its way around the world over the next several decades, eventually landing in the collection of Baron Heinrich Thyssen-Bornemisza, a Swiss art collector and the heir to a German steel fortune. Thyssen-Bornemisza sold his collection to the Kingdom of Spain in 1993, which established a foundation and museum in Spain in his name.

The Museo Thyssen did not respond to a request for comment.

After he learned of the location of the Pissarro painting, the couple’s sole heir, Claude Cassirer, sued for its return in 2005. He died five years later, and now his son David, his daughter Ava’s estate and the Jewish Federation of San Diego County are handling the case.

“For survivors of the Holocaust and their families, the fight to take back ownership of art and other personal items stolen by the Nazis continues to traumatize those who have already gone through the unimaginable,” Newsom said Monday. “It is both a moral and legal imperative that these valuable and sentimental pieces be returned to their rightful owners, and I am proud to strengthen California’s laws to help secure justice for families.”

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET EIGHT - ROUND TWO - MATCH FOUR

"Carroña" (2011 - Javier Perez) / "The Dog" (1819–23 - Francisco Goya)

CARROÑA: The description I found at the Cornish Museum of Glass' website for this piece states that it is inspired by the loss of traditional glassmaking in Italy, which fits very well with the red glass chandelier. Obviously, it is glass, but the chandelier pieces also resemble bones, organs, and other recognizable, natural shapes rendered in shiny red glass as if made of perpetually-fresh blood. It is made to represent an animal, and I would like to argue that this animal is human. The very human urge to create and own things that are nice is combined with the reliance an artist has on the customers' enjoyment of the art - the chandelier represents the humans who were a part of the glassmaking industry, or even enjoyed it, and their culture is here, being consumed.

That brings us to the birds, the crows eating a corpse. But the crows are not necessarily guilty of killing this chandelier; the glass sprays as if it fell. The crows may or may not have pecked it from its ceiling, but they are certainly enjoying the spoils. The crows are eating the chandelier, and if the chandelier is humans and culture, what are the crows? Are they merely the representation of the way of life - the energy of the food - being changed into another form, like the people who would have learnt the trade or those no longer capable of making a living off of it moving on? Or did they indeed commit the crime they are feeding off of, and are other markets or businesses come to take profitable pieces of the chandelier?

Also, c'mon, it's crows eating a cool-looking chandelier. That's pretty metal, if you ask me. (grinning-reaper-black-pearl)

THE DOG: I saw Goya's dog in the Prado years ago, and it struck me with such dread and sadness. The whole gallery with his "black paintings" was an incredibly intense and uncomfortable experience -- you can really feel the dark emotions in these pieces. I think I actually cried looking at this one -- the dog is so helpless, just a little island in all the negative space. (ladycoriolanus)

(Carroña is a sculpture by Javier Pérez made with murano glass and stuffed crows. It measures 120 x 235 x 300 cm (47 x 92.5 x 118 in).

“The Dog” is an painting by Francisco Goya, that was originally painted on the plaster walls of his house and later transferred onto canvas. It measures 131.5 cm × 79.3 cm (51+3⁄4 in × 31+1⁄4 in) and is located in the Museo del Prado in Madrid.)

[scratchybongvt]

THE SIDEMASCOTS SEASON 1 BONUS SHOW! (Sidemascots 1.16.1)

Mascots’ Secret Santa!

Starring…

THE SIDEMASCOTS!

Vinicius: Season 1!

(Technical difficulties)

Vinicius: “To Vini, the biggest piece of s**t I’ve ever seen.” Off to a bad start.

(Vinicius opens the present only to reveal a bomb that exploded. Thankfully, the explosion was harmless, but enough to have gunpowder all over his face)

Sumi: “This is for ignoring Miga all those months!” Ha, classic! I wonder what that is.

(Sumi opens and a boxing glove springs out and punches him in the face)

Burke: “To Burke, Atlanta’s #1 United fan, I present to you: THE BEST TEAM!” Yippee!

(Transition which reveals Burke wearing an Orlando City jersey)

Burke: Ugh, Good luck in the conference final otherwise. You’re gonna need it.

Borobi: “To Borobi, who bought two tickets for an AFLX match that never happened” Let’s see… oh my! A footy signed by Eddie Betts? The Deadly Captain?! Yippee Mate!

Miraitowa: This Miraitowa sweater?

Burke: Sewn by me!

Miraitowa: Oh, thanks.

(This terrible image is commissioned by @jaymewolf999 (sorry for calling it “terrible”, I already know you don’t have the right equipment to draw digital art properly), if you want to illustrate one part of any Sidemascots episode, DM me!)

Sumi: Ooh, ooh, ooh! I also hired someone to sew a sweater for you!

Miraitowa: Which is…

Sumi: “Default Olympic mas-

(Sumi is hit by a pan by Miraitowa)

Someity: 10 free boxes of Lunchly after it is recalled? You do know I’m vegan, right? RIGHT?!

Honohon: What’s this giant gift box?

(Uzumin pops out of the gift box)

Uzumin: Haiiiiiiii!

Honohon: I quit!

Uzumin: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Clyde: What is this?! NO ENGLAND NO PARTY?!

Wenlock, Mandeville, and Crackhead: It’s coming home, it’s coming home, it’s coming, Christmas’ coming home!

Crackhead: “To Crackhead, revenge for episode 9!” Hmmm… (opens giant gift box) WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! OLYMPIC PHRYGE?!

(Sacha chokes Crackhead)

Sacha: Disrespect the Phryges again and I’LL BREAK YOUR NECK!

(Vinicius, Powder, and Sumi come into the studio holding microphones with Burke wearing referee gear)

Sumi: Oh my! The largest Phryge fan is choking the largest Wenman fan!

Burke: One, two, three, four, five!

Vinicius: She won’t stand a freaking chance!

Burke: Six, seven, eight, nine, ten! Knockout!

Sacha: VICTORY IN CHRISTMAS! HALA MADRID- I MEAN PHRYGES!

Olympic Phryge: What am I supposed to do now? And where’s my sister?

Powder: I don’t want this series to have an insufferable drunk again so I didn’t revive her.

Olympic Phryge: Oh. Off to therapy, I go…

(Sacha choked Powder)

Sacha: THE FUCK YOU SAY?!

Powder: Okay, okay… ack…

Honohon: Another gift box? Please it isn’t Uzumin……

Uzumin: It’s me again!

Honohon: I QUIT!

Uzumin: COME BACK HONOHON! COME BACK!

Vinicius: Wow…

Sumi: The friendship between Honohon and Uzumin is like a fantasy story you tell your children on Christmas.

Vinicius: “To Vini Jr.” Let me guess… A ballon D’or? Why don’t you try and find Vini’s ACTUAL address?

Borobi: Oh crikey! A Gold Coast United shirt signed by all of its former players? Thanks mate!!!

Powder: *gasps* WarioWare Move It? Yippee! I get to see my idol Penny Crygor! If only I have a Switch… damn.

Sacha: The Paris 2024 commemorative 2 euro coin! YES! I have been looking for this for so long!

Paralympic Phryge: 6 packs of Red Bull?! WAHEY!

Olympic Phryge: For fuck sake, Para!

Tina: A 5000-piece jigsaw puzzle of San Siro? I can relive those memories of dissing AC Milan fans!

Vinicius: Finally! Something that is NOT the Ballon D’or! Oh no…

Sumi: What’s wrong?

Vinicius: Fluminense…

Sumi: Unlucky.

Miraitowa: *gasps* A signed copy of Trailly… FROM MY CREATOR?! THANK YOU SO MUCH, RYO!

Tina: A Luce minifigure? Who sent this? The Pope?

Powder: Arizona Coyotes! Yippee! Now I can relieve Arizona’s glory days knowing that they won’t return ever again *cries*

Sumi: There, there, Powder…

Wenlock: A postcard from Sir Keir Starmer?!

Vinicius: PRANK!

Sumi: It’s Sir Keir Starmer… on character.ai! (Wenlock throws the postcard on Sumi) OW!

Someity: Prime? Who do you think I am? A carnivore?

Tina: Another Luce merch? Ugh… I get it…

Milo: A prosthetic leg?

Powder: Made by me!

Milo: I’m already familiar with walking with a leg and a tail.

Powder: Oh…

Polar Bear: Flag of the Individual Neutral Athletes? Wow…

Ettie: A memorabilia of that Weakest Link episode I hosted? Gee, thanks!

Yodli: “Nothing but the new mascot in town!” The new mascot in town?

Maddli: Maddli! Albart’s Swiss nephew and the official mascot of the 2025 Women’s Euro! Woof woof!

Sumi: That’s MY catchphrase!

Burke: Sounds like something coming from EA Sports…

Chenchen: (plays ukulele) Last Christmas, I gave you my…

Vinicius and Sumi: BATS! AND THE VERY NEXT DAY, YOU SNEEZE IT AWAY!

Olympic Phryge: Quit the Sidemascots in return for $1000?

(Sacha rips the letter)

Sacha: DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH SCAMS!

Polar Bear: A flag of the Russian Olympic Committee? Thanks! Now I can relive those glorious Tokyo 2020 days!

Miraitowa: You’re welcome! As long as you continue using performance-enhancing drugs!

Polar Bear: Hahahahaha… what?

Vinicius: An unmodded copy of FC25? YIPPEE!

Wenlock: A very very early version of FM25?! YIPPEE!

OC IV: A print copy of the Sidemascots Season 1?! YIPPEE!

Vinicius: “To Vinicius, good luck supporting Botafogo in the final, you moron.” Tickets to the Copa Libertadores Final?! I can’t fly to Buenos Aires but YIPPEE!

(The present box explodes)

Vinicius: A bad ending…

THE SIDEMASCOTS!

Vinicius: Hope you enjoy this Christmas special we made for you! Especially @sashley1912!

Crackhead: BIASED!

Sumi: Season 2 is coming next February! So hit like! We want to surpass NinnyHuan’s cringe novel on Wattpad! So hit like there too! We will not respond to @crackheadfromsainsbury in the comments. *spits*

Crackhead: DOUBLE BIASED!

Vinicius: Merry Christmas from all of us at Sidemascots! And BFO is over!

Sumi: Make sure to…

Vinicius: This has been the Sidemascots!

Sumi: What?

Everyone: GOODBYE!

Sumi: …

Tom: HEY VINI, DO YOU LIKE MY PRES-

[toffeelemon]

I don’t feel like our love is brand new. There must have been lovers, soulmates, before us, experiencing what we get to have. And it’s giving me comfort to imagine there will be many more like us to come. Our kind of love is the kind of love that makes this rotten world worth living in.

prince simon in madrid

a pilgrimage along the world that @prince-simon created 🥹

Simon’s neighbourhood, Chueca

“It’s actually the Queer Neighbourhood of Madrid, and coincidentally also where I live.” He lowered his voice as if to tell a secret, “It’s actually not a coincidence at all.” (chapter 2)

Casa de Campo (view from the Royal Palace lol oop)

Wilhelm didn’t even recognise himself. He didn’t think he’d ever looked that happy. And Simon… his eyes were closed and his curls were a mess and Wilhelm had never seen anyone more beautiful. (chapter 3)

El Retiro

Simon looked at Wilhelm much too adoringly for a statement this goofy. “The ducks are gay!” He yelled at Santiago and Paula, “Just so you know!” (chapter 9)

Palacio de Cristal

“Here’s a funny thought - bear with me, okay? But just imagine. Flowers. Everywhere, like on the ceiling, up the walls. Fairy lights scattered all through it. It would be so gorgeous as a- uh, like. For a wedding…” Realising where his train of thought had gotten him, Wilhelm fell quiet, looking at Simon with wide eyes. (chapter 9)

El Palacio Real de Madrid (more specifically the Throne Room lmfao)

Simon traced his fingers over the bruises on Wilhelm’s neck and in the opening of his dress shirt, humming contentedly. Wilhelm followed the movement in the mirror, and marvelled at how good they looked together, how well they fit together and how much Simon belonged right here – on the throne, with Wilhelm. He deserved the world and so much more. (chapter 12)

Museo Nacional del Prado

Around them, the other visitors kept moving, admiring the art on the walls, and for the moment Wilhelm felt infinite, imagining himself a painting, looked at and analysed hundreds of years from now. El Abrazo de los Príncipes.

Lo Spasimo, Raphael, 1515-1517

“Are we allowed to kiss in front of Jesus on his way to crucifixion or is that tasteless? Because I really want to kiss you right now, Simon.”

Las Meninas, Diego Velázquez, 1656

“He made me look at Velázquez in the painting and how he was looking back at the viewer, at me. I still remember the exact tone of his voice, how he was so certain when he told me that I had every right to be where I am. That I am the subject of this painting, the king being painted. All those tyrants, King Felipe and Emmanuel and all those that came in between, they are trapped in that mirror forever while I am here, alive, we’re here. Velázquez is looking at two queer princes, ready to paint us.” (chapter 13)

Casa Alberto

“So, tell me more about this special part of Madrileñan history.” He was slightly teasing but mostly actually curious. 

Simon seemed all too eager to answer that question, and it hit Wilhelm how genuine Simon’s care for his city — his country — and its people was. It made him a little sad to know that a lot of people didn’t get to see that because they only focused on Simon being too gay or too Latino, or even just too carefree and enjoying life because he was young, to be their future king.

bonus content:

Iglesia de San Antonio de los Alemanes (where Simon goes to church)

“I think I need to go somewhere.”

“Oh?” Wilhelm said softly, “Right now?”

Simon hesitated before he nodded. “I need to- get some clarity? Or - I hope that I’ll get it there?” He whispered, voice shaky.

“Do you want to tell me where you’re going?”

“To- uh, to pray? I mean- to church? I don’t know if I’ll pray…” Simon’s voice was shaky, uncertainty shining in his eyes when he dared to look up at Wilhelm. (chapter 11)

[lizzy019]

Okay so if you're not interested in my GoBB theories, you can keep scrolling 🤭

OKAY SO I downloaded all the Garten of Banban games on my younger brother's PC (he doesn't know 0.0) and I've been noticing a lot of things.

In Chapter 1, there is this thing called "the crash", which happened on "Bring A Friend" Day. All the kids that are in the kindergarten are able to bring a sibling, friend, family member, whoever. All of this excess weight on the first floor caused Jumbo Josh to become overwhelmed, hence breaking the first floor.

This brings me to my first theory. If Bring A Friend Day wasn't that packed because there are very few kids in this kindergarten program, how could the floor have crashed?

Second theory, Jumbo Josh is giant, yes. But he doesn't seem to be able to be heavy enough to break any other floors below. So, I believe that maybe the first floor is overworked and old, but since the company is so in debt, they didn't have enough money to pay for repairs and ended up losing their top floor.

In Chapter 1, it is also made clear that Banban is actually Doctor Uthman Adam from his passport and ticket he used to travel from Montreal to wherever the company is located in Madrid, Spain. Here is the proof:

Now, in Chapter 2, we meet Zolphius and a lot of the main characters. We first interact with Nabnab and Banban, and there is a note that repeats "The spider is real."

This is written by a scared coworker who has witnessed Nabnab, and they seem to fear him greatly. (In all honesty, I would too lol)

But, I don't think Nabnab actually has any bad intentions. As it says on his mural art, "It's okay to have no friends and be miserable like me!", Nabnab seems to genuinely strive for friendship, but no one wants to be his friend because he's "scary".

This causes Nabnab to become hostile and aggressive towards everyone except for his friends, but even then sometimes he doesn't trust them. I think that's why he attacks us overhead when we're running away during the chase scene.

Then Banban comes along, he hits us behind the head and puts us in "surgery". But during said surgery, it only appears that in the room, we lay on a carpet and givanium is on the ground. I believe this was Banban's attempt to harm us, only to fail and flee.

The Captain Fiddles Floor is filled with only copies of Captain Fiddles, seven small ones and one giant one. Now, these creatures are described as "passive and docile" until the crash from Chapter 1 startled them into aggression.

That is where this note stems from:

So clearly these creatures are sensitive to frightening situations and react on instinct to protect themselves.

But my other theory is, why the hell are there guns in a kindergarten? Like, I know it's a whole facility and there may be the occasional whoopsie, but full on weapons and cannons? 0.0

Banbaleena also has this weird voiceline.

"No! Not again! I actually tried to be a good teacher this time!"

So, this is what it makes me think of. You know that one teacher that you absolutely hate(d) that just makes you rethink everything? Yeah, I think Banbaleena was that kind of teacher.

She's adamant, she's false happy, she's strict, she's overly dramatic. She's that one teacher than NO ONE likes, and that's why she uses inanimate objects as students because one, she lost all her actual students, and two, her actual students just didn't like her 0.0

Next, Chapter 3.

Okay, so this is when we first interact with Stinger Flynn and Nabnaleena. Now, while this chapter doesn't have very many secrets to look over, there still is the white room with hidden keycards.

The white room, in Stinger Flynn's "meditating room", has some interesting things.

In this room, there is a wall art of Chamataki and Tamataki with a whiteboard showing a rainbow DNA image with the words "Case 22, Genome Cloy".

Now, there is a paper that describes the genome cloy, and I'll summarize it here.

A genome cloy is where too many genome donors are given to one specimen, and the body of said specimen will go into a pure state of haze and berserk behaviour due to all the genetic diversity and mutation. During this, it is unsafe to hold one of these specimens in a kindergarten.

Now, this actually gives us a lot of useful information. It serves as why Chamataki and Tamataki in a certain tape shows them trying to tear themselves apart, simply because they are two different minds, two different animals reacting differently to this genome cloy.

Now, we have to talk about Stinger Flynn here.

So, already this stupid jellyfish is my favourite character. His smarts, his wit, his personality, his characteristics, everything.

But, he always seems to blame US for everything going wrong.

Sir, we didn't cause your first floor to crash- we didn't infuse you with givanium and tell you to kys-

Now, there are a LOT of images showing kids with Stinger Flynn, and it makes sense. Here are what most of them are:

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Now, this kid often talks to their mother about these things, and due to the kid looking androgynous, they will be represented as "he" (just because, no I'm not being sexist). In the game, I actually think we play as the mother.

But, in Chapter 4, he also seems to blame us for his lack of strength when it was so clearly Sheriff Toadster?

Now, there's also a major secret in this chapter.

There is a hidden room in the Ventilation Sector. You have to go through Banban and Mr. Kabob Man's chase scene, finish the cutscene where Nabnab and Banban fight, and click Mr. Kabob Man's speaker for his iconic "Open Sesame!" for your secret keycard.

Now, this opens a room with some useless information, but it gives us some insight.

This is a room with a picture of Syringeon and some whiteboards with his information on it. But sadly, no paper was there to show anything else. It simply showed percentages of his survival rate during different situations.

But there are some tapes that show Toadster and Bittergiggle being forced to bow down to Bouncelia, and I presume this is when they first got together and truly followed the rules to avoid harm by the doctors studying them.

Now, there's also a few notes that show other doctors communicating with each other through those notes on the ground, and most of them seem old. So clearly their big plan was already put into action and was created.

A lot of people think Kittysaurus is a minor character, serving as only a boss to annoy the player. But, they actually some good background information that helps support character development.

It is known that Kittysaurus and Bittergiggle are very close friends because the giant feline appreciates Jester's jokes. In a sense, Kittysaurus was all Bittergiggle had to feel normal and accepted. So that's why you always see them together.

The fight in Chapter 4, the reunion in Chapter 6, they're very close friends and it serves as someone Bittergiggle is close to and cares about.

Now, Chapter 6 and 7 aren't very lore-packed like the other games. There are a few notes here and there, but none of them are important. Though, Chapter 7 offers some really good information in the beginning when Syringeon is talking to us.

He has a whiteboard showing all the characters that are alive, which include: Jumbo Josh, Sheriff Toadster, Zolphius, Syringeon, and a few others with question marks on their pictures to show that he's unsure if they're alive or not.

Back to the previous chapters, Chapter 2 holds a very specific point that I need to discuss.

When you get to the room where you meet Banban on the comms, you have to do a puzzle to get the keycard to enter the maintenance room.

However, there is a list of employee names on the wall, and the one with the gold star is named Weverly. Weverly is actually Ms. Mason. However, we don't know much about Ms. Mason except for the fact that she teaches the kindergarteners.

So, I believe the names on this list are also employees who work at the company who have either been killed or turned into givanium mutants.

Now, givanium is a major part of Garten of Banban. There are many notes that state how it works, why, what it does, etc etc. But there is one note in particular that really gets me nervous, and it's this one:

This is about the closet we'll get to a disloyal and worried coworker who genuinely believes what they're doing is wrong, and further proves that this company is getting more inhumane with their work.

Anyways, I love this game I'm sorry I had to ramble.

And this is the end of my theories :) Thanks for reading lol if you've made it this far, have some Banban

(Images not mine)