#barcelona pre party

[stupid-lew]

[p0orbaby]

Stress Reliever

summary: important matches call for unorthodox methods

warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering, sex in a random room in a stadium? i have no clue, don’t judge

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this one, so kudos to whoever requested it !

word count: 2.7k

-

You’re in the stands, sipping a warm Coke that tastes like pennies, watching as eager fans filter into the stadium. It’s an hour until kickoff, and you’re trying not to panic because you have the seat of death. The one directly behind the pole. And not just any pole—oh no, you get the thick, structural support beam that’s been placed there by some sadist with a vendetta against sports fans. You can already feel the crick forming in your neck as you angle to see the pitch, bobbing and weaving like you’re on the world’s worst first date.

“Are you—?” A voice interrupts your internal monologue, startling you so much you nearly throw your Coke onto the unlucky person next to you. You look up, expecting to see a security guard, someone here to accuse you of something you definitely did do (sneak in a flask) but absolutely won’t admit to.

Instead, it’s a woman with a headset, wearing an expression of mild impatience—like she’s had to ask someone the same question three times. Which, judging by the size of this place, she probably has.

“Yeah?” you ask, because that’s the only word your brain can offer in the moment. Well, that and hotdog but you keep that one to yourself.

“Are you—” she checks her clipboard, which you find oddly official, like you’re about to be quizzed on the periodic table or something, “—the girlfriend?”

There’s a beat where you consider denying it because the word girlfriend still sounds weird in your ears. Like you’re not old enough for it or something. Like someone’s going to come along and snatch the title away from you because you got it out of a vending machine or a cereal box.

But then the woman’s staring at you, one eyebrow slightly arched, and you realise you haven’t answered, which is definitely making this more awkward.

“Uh…yes?”

“Great.” She doesn’t even wait for you to elaborate (which is good, because you definitely wouldn’t have). “Alexia needs you”

She says it like Alexia needs you is a normal sentence. Like you’re supposed to understand what that entails, as if you’ve been through this before.

“Oh.” You blink. “Now?”

“Yeah.” Another short answer. She’s probably fun at parties.

Your brain’s processing speed is at dial-up levels right now, but you eventually nod, clambering over knees and feet, mumbling apologies as you spill half your Coke in your lap. It’s warm, wet, and uncomfortable. The perfect metaphor for your life at this moment.

The woman with the headset leads you through a labyrinth of corridors, down staircases that don’t look like they’ve been used since the stadium was built, past signs that say things like “AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY” and “NO ENTRY,” which really do wonders for your anxiety. It’s as if you’re being led to the dungeons, or possibly to a secret basement where you’ll be quietly murdered before kickoff.

“Is everything…okay?” you ask, partly because you’re nervous, partly because you’re still in shock that Alexia asked for you. The Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, Spanish football’s golden child. The one who should be doing pre-game rituals or eating her eighth banana by now, not…whatever this is.

“Yup,” says Headset Lady, who clearly graduated from the one-syllable academy of small talk.

You’re about to ask a follow-up question (something like are you a hostage negotiator on the side?) when she stops abruptly in front of a nondescript door that looks like it’s seen better days. There’s a small sign taped to it that reads “MEETING ROOM.” Creative.

“She’s in there,” Headset Lady says, handing you the clipboard like it’s a ticket to a secret club. You take it because refusing might lead to her finally using the taser you’re convinced she’s got hidden somewhere.

“Uh, thanks,” you say, because manners.

She gives you a curt nod, spins on her heels, and walks away without a backward glance, leaving you alone with the door, the clipboard, and a creeping sense of dread.

You’re about to knock when the door swings open and you’re pulled inside by a very strong hand. You barely manage to keep your balance, though your dignity is less fortunate.

“Jesus Christ, Alexia, a little warning?” you gasp, clutching your chest like someone’s ancient grandmother.

But Alexia isn’t listening. She’s pacing, her boots tapping out a nervous rhythm on the floor, her expression a fusion of frustration and something you can’t quite place—like she’s trying to solve a really tough maths problem but someone keeps changing all the numbers.

“Babe?” you try again, this time a little softer, hoping to break through whatever spell she’s under.

She finally stops, turning to face you, and that’s when you notice it. The way her eyes are slightly glazed, her hands twitching at her sides. She looks like she’s about to combust from the inside out, like she’s been plugged into the world’s worst electrical socket.

You know that look. You’ve seen it before, but not like this. Not with this intensity, this…desperation.

“What’s going on?” you ask, though you think you already know. You’re just not sure you’re ready for the answer.

“I’m fucking freaking out,” she says, her voice low and tight, like it’s taking everything in her to hold it together. “I can’t—I can’t focus, I can’t think—I just—fuck!” She runs a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends like it’s their fault.

You step closer, cautious, like you’re approaching a wild animal. “Is there anything I can do?”

And that’s when she looks at you. Really looks at you. Her eyes narrow slightly, and you can practically see the lightbulb go off above her head. It’s not the comforting moment you were hoping for. It’s more like the moment in a horror movie when the killer realises the protagonist is hiding in the wardrobe.

“Actually…yeah.” Her voice drops an octave, and you swear the room temperature does too. “There is”

Oh no. You know where this is going. You’ve been here before. This isn’t the first time Alexia has decided that the best way to deal with her pre-game jitters is to channel them into something else. Something physical. Something that, once upon a time, you thought was a great idea.

You were wrong.

But it’s too late to back out now. You’re trapped, like a mouse caught in a particularly horny mousetrap.

“Here?” you squeak, glancing around the dimly lit meeting room, which is as unsexy as a room can get. The walls are beige, the carpet is a hideous shade of grey, and there’s a whiteboard in the corner with some sad-looking, lidless pens. It’s as if the universe decided to create the least erotic environment possible.

“Here,” she confirms, and you can’t help but notice the way her voice drips with something dark and dangerous. Something that makes your pulse quicken and your palms sweat.

“But what if—”

“No one’s coming in,” she interrupts, and there’s a note of finality in her voice that tells you this is happening whether you like it or not. “It’s locked”

“How did you even get a key?”

“Does it matter?”

It doesn’t, but you feel like you’re owed an explanation anyway. Because what if someone does come in? What if they see you—two responsible, adult women—going at it in a meeting room like hormonal teenagers? You can already see the headlines: “Football Star and Girlfriend Caught in Bizarre Pre-Game Ritual”

“Alexia, I—”

She’s on you before you can finish the sentence, her hands gripping your waist, pulling you against her. Her lips crash into yours, and suddenly the room isn’t so cold anymore. It’s like being hit by a freight train made of pure sexual frustration, and for a moment, all you can do is hang on for dear life.

But then the reality of the situation hits you. You’re about to have sex in a room that smells faintly of wet dog and failed business deals. This is not how you pictured today to go. You imagined something more…romantic. A win celebrated in a plush hotel room, or at the very least a place with a bed.

But Alexia doesn’t seem to care. She’s already pawing at your clothes with a speed that’s both impressive and alarming, like she’s done this a thousand times before. Which, now that you think about it, she probably has. Just…not here. Or so you hope.

“Wait, wait,” you pant, pulling back slightly. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Nope,” she says, but she doesn’t stop, and neither do you, because you’re weak and she’s hot, and who are you kidding? You’re definitely going to do this.

It’s not graceful. It’s not even sexy, really. It’s more like a frantic scramble to get clothes off while trying not to knock over a stack of chairs. You’re pretty sure you elbow her in the ribs at one point, and she steps on your foot twice, but neither of you cares because there’s a bigger issue at hand.

You think about saying something witty, something to break the tension, but then she’s on you again, and words are suddenly the last thing on your mind. All you can do is hold on and hope the table doesn’t collapse under the weight of your combined bad decisions.

She pushes you back onto the table, her hands firm on your shoulders, and suddenly the wood beneath you feels a lot harder than it looked a second ago. It’s all happening too fast, but not fast enough, and when her mouth finds yours again, it’s all teeth and urgency. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask permission because it knows it’ll get what it wants anyway.

Her hands are everywhere, pulling at your shirt, fumbling with the buttons like they’re some kind of cruel joke. You help her out, batting her hands away, only to struggle just as much. It’s like your fingers have forgotten how to work, each movement clumsy and desperate. When you finally manage to yank your shirt over your head, you feel a brief, victorious rush, like you’ve conquered a small but significant mountain.

She barely gives you time to breathe before she’s back on you, her mouth hot and demanding against your neck, her hands sliding up your sides. You gasp as her fingers slip under your bra, her thumbs brushing over your nipples with just enough pressure to make you arch against her.

“Fuck,” you whisper, because it’s the only word that makes sense right now.

She grins against your skin, clearly pleased with herself, and you know you’re in trouble. Alexia knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s doing it well. Too well, actually. The kind of well that makes you forget where you are, why you’re here, and who you are as a person.

Her hand trails down your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your jeans, and you suck in a breath, half expecting her to stop, to clock on how ridiculous this all is. But she doesn’t. She just keeps going, popping the button on your jeans with a quick flick of her fingers, pulling the zipper down in one smooth motion. You lift your hips to help her slide them down, and suddenly the cold air hits your bare legs, making you shiver. But it’s not the temperature that’s getting to you—it’s the anticipation.

She’s back on you in an instant, her fingers finding their way inside your underwear, brushing against you in a way that makes your breath catch. Her touch is light at first, almost teasing, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. She’s not in the mood for games, and neither are you.

“Please,” you murmur, not entirely sure what you’re asking for, but knowing you need it.

She doesn’t make you wait. Her fingers slide inside you with a confidence that comes from knowing exactly what you like, how you like it, and how quickly she can drive you insane. And she’s doing it now, the slow, steady rhythm making you forget all about the uncomfortable table beneath you, the smell of stale coffee in the room, the fact that someone could walk in at any moment. None of it matters. All that matters is her, and the way she’s making you feel like you might come undone right there in that drab, fluorescent-lit room.

You cling to her like she’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality, your hands digging into her back, your nails leaving marks that you know take back to the changing room with pride. The table creaks beneath you, protesting with every thrust of her hand, but you don’t care. You can barely think, let alone worry about the state of some cheap office furniture.

When she curls her fingers inside you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars, you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. The last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but fuck, it’s hard. Especially when she starts moving faster, her thumb brushing over your clit with just the right amount of pressure to push you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re so close now, teetering on the brink, and she knows it. You can see it in the way she’s watching you, her eyes dark and intense, like she’s savoring every moment, every gasp and moan she pulls from your lips. It’s almost too much, the way she’s looking at you, like she’s claiming you, owning you in a way that goes beyond this moment, this room.

And then you’re falling, your body tensing as the wave crashes over you, pulling you under. You bite down on her shoulder, muffling the sound of your release, and she groans at the feeling of your teeth sinking into her skin. It’s raw and primal, and at this point in time, you don’t care about anything else but the way she’s making you feel.

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, working you through your orgasm until you’re trembling beneath her, your breath coming in ragged gasps. When she does finally pull her hand away, you feel the loss of her touch like a physical ache, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

For a moment, neither of you moves, the only sound in the room your heavy breathing and the distant roar of the crowd outside. The game is about to start, but for once, it’s the last thing on your mind.

When she finally pulls back, you expect her to say something, but she just looks at you, her expression softening in a way that makes your chest warm. There’s something unspoken in her eyes, something you’re not sure you’re ready to acknowledge, but it’s there all the same.

“Better?” you ask, your voice shaky, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

She smirks, that familiar, cocky grin returning as she reaches down to adjust her shorts. “Much”

You laugh, weak and breathless, but it’s genuine. Because despite the absurdity of it all—the meeting room, the table, the fact that you’re still half-naked in the most unromantic setting imaginable—it was exactly what you both needed.

You sit up, wincing as your muscles protest, and begin the awkward process of getting dressed again. Alexia helps, her hands lingering a little longer than necessary, and you swat at her playfully, even though you’re secretly glad she’s not ready to let go just yet.

“We can’t make this a thing,” you say, though you know it’s a lie the second it leaves your mouth.

“Sure we can,” Alexia replies, already pulling on her shorts like nothing happened. Like you didn’t just defile a piece of office furniture.

“You owe me,” you grumble, trying to smooth down your hair, which now looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.

“Add it to the list,” she says with a wink.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Because yeah, it was reckless and stupid and definitely not sanitary, but damn if it wasn’t one hell of a way to start a match.

“Good luck,” you say, and you mean it.

She gives you a look that says I don’t need luck, and you believe her. Because if she can handle you, she can handle anything.

As you walk out of the meeting room, legs still a little shaky, you can’t help but wonder if this will become a regular thing. You hope not.

Then again…maybe you don’t.

[sushirrrry]

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?”

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.  

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

[loviingpedri]

one of his girls tonight - hector fort

prompt: he can’t get enough of you.

warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)

please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.

any italicized texts are lyrics

credits to owners for all images

what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.

nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.

“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.

everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.

you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.

“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.

“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.

lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.

getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.

“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.

“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.

“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.

“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.

“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.

walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.

“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.

“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.

“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.

push me down, hold me down.

spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.

“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.

“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”

and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.

“my name is hector. yours?”

“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.

we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.

“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.

he knows how to get the best out of me.

his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.

finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.

“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.

hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.

————————————————

author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!

[embrosegraves]

ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

(request) Fernando Alonso x Reader  After Fernando’s Big Crash™ the reader helps him remember them “You were my first kiss.” + “Smiling in the middle of a kiss.”

Warnings: mentions the crash from Barcelona testing in 2015. written with female!Reader in mind. pretty sure thats it, could be wrong tho

You hadn’t seen what happened so much as you had heard it happen. Apparently no one knew how the crash had happened. Just that Fernando had somehow crashed out at turn 3. Pre-Season testing had never been so stressful for you. All they entailed was testing the new car on the track, gathering a bit of data for the engineers and then it was off to the first race of the season. 

You had never expected to end up in the hospital waiting for Fernando to wake up in the hospital bed. You were grateful that you had taken lessons to learn Spanish because so far the doctors in Barcelona didn’t speak a lick of English. They tried speaking to you in broken English until you replied back to them in almost perfect Spanish. Eventually, they managed to explain that due to the force of the crash he had sustained, it was likely that some of his memory would be lost. Whether permanently or temporarily, they could not say. It would all depend on when Fernando woke up. 

You thanked the doctors and sat down next to your boyfriend’s hospital bed, clasping his hand in yours. You were worried. Of course you were worried, your boyfriend just crashed and potentially lost every memory of you! You had no idea what you would do if Fernando didn’t remember you. You just had to hope that he would remember who you were. 

Around an hour later, you felt something squeeze your hand. Your head shot up from looking at your phone, turning to see that Fernando’s eyes were slowly but surely opening. You waited until his eyes were fully open before speaking. 

“Fern?” he slowly looked over to you, as if he couldn’t quite tell who you were, “Are you okay?” 

You watched as he licked his slightly dry lips, so you grabbed the cup of water from the bedside and helped him take a sip. 

“Gracias Señorita.” He said. 

“You’ve not called me that since we met for the first time.” Despite the doctors warning you that he might not have all of his memory, it still surprised you to witness Fernando not recognise you. You had been together for 5 years now. 

“Forgive me if this question sounds silly but,” you took a breath to steady yourself, “do you know who I am to you?” 

Fernando frowned at the question. He took a moment to think before answering, “You feel familiar to me. I know that you are important but I cannot remember why.” 

Your face had fallen more and more with each word he spoke. Moving your gaze to the bedsheets, you tried desperately not to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. 

Fernando had seen your tears nonetheless and gripped your hand a little tighter, “Lo siento.” 

“It’s okay.” You wiped the few tears that had fallen and tried to give him a comforting smile when a thought came to you. 

“Could you tell me about us? So I can remember?” 

“Of course I can.” And so you spent the next 45 minutes telling him about everything you had been through in the five years you had been together. How just two weeks ago he had brought up that he wanted to get married someday but that he still wasn’t sure about having children. You told him about how funny you thought the media was when he was racing for Ferrari because everyone wanted to paint him as a womaniser despite being in a very secure relationship. You had even told him about how you had met each other. 

“You were my first kiss, you know?” You said to him. “That New Years party where we met. I had been so shy that night and then you came along at midnight and just kissed me. It was honestly the most fairytale thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Can you kiss me?” Fernando suddenly asked. Your shock was evident on your face. You weren’t sure why he would ask that. Especially because he didn’t exactly remember being your boyfriend. 

“O-Okay.” You slowly got up and leaned towards him. Gently, you placed your hands on either side of his face, his own hands coming to rest over yours. 

The kiss was slow, and extremely soft. His lips moved with yours and if not for the situation you found yourself in, you would say that it was one of the most romantic kisses you’d ever had. You had honestly not expected a whole lot to happen when you agreed to kiss him. Part of you hoped for something, anything, to click in his head but you weren’t going to hold your breath. 

You definitely didn’t expect for Fernando to start smiling in the middle of kissing you. You went to move away just a little bit, but before your lips could separate Fernando’s hand moved to hold the back of your neck and he pulled you closer than you were before. What was a slow and gentle kiss quickly became passionate and almost desperate. It was like Fernando had been deprived of water in the middle of a desert with how he kissed you.

Finally pulling away from each other, you began to catch your breath. The kiss had taken a turn and quite literally took your breath away. 

“Fern?” You asked, your voice small but hopeful. Looking into his eyes you see love and adoration practically gushing from him. 

“Hola, Mi Reina.” He caressed your face as he spoke to you. Even if you weren’t looking at him, you could hear the smile in his words and how he spoke.

“Do you remember?” Your legs felt like jelly. You were so frightened to ask, it didn’t matter that he was using his preferred pet name for you. 

“How could I ever forget about you, Mi Amor?”

The way I had already written pretty much the whole thing, and then STRUGGLED to think of a way to end it with a one-liner.

Anyways I hope you all enjoyed this one! It's my very first one for Fernando so I'm really hoping I did the request justice.

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated!

[useless-catalanfacts]

2nd February 2024. Photos from Vilaweb.

Demonstration in front of the High Court of Justice of Catalonia (the highest court of the Spanish judiciary system in Catalonia) in Barcelona in support of Dani Gallardo, a young Spanish anarchist who is sentenced to prison because the took part in a peaceful demonstration held in Madrid (Spain's capital city) in favour of Catalan people's right to self-determination and against the Spanish police's violence against Catalan people.

We have explained Dani's case before, you can read it in this post:

Dani has been sentenced guilty to send a message. Until his case, more than 4,200 Catalan people had been sentenced guilty for their involvement in the 2017 Catalan independence referendum or the protests that followed it. The Spanish judiciary system has proven that they won't stop at punishing Catalan people, they also sent the police to beat up the protestors who demonstrated for Catalonia in Madrid (Spain) and they're also jailing a Spanish man for his solidarity.

Dani was sentenced guilty of public disorder and attempt against authority with made-up claims that had been fabricated hours before he even got arrested. The Spanish police already planned to arrest people and blame them for this even before the event happened. Dani spent 13 months in pre-trial jail, then he was released for some time, and now has received the order to go to prison for 2 years and 11 months more.

Cases like this is why there is a demand for an amnesty. After the last elections to the Spanish government, the PSOE party needed the support of other parties to get enough votes to form government. One of the must-have demands of the Catalan political parties was an amnesty law (amnesty laws are not uncommon in Spain) that would cancel the punishments of people who have been found guilty of political crimes related to the independence movement since 2017, because none of these thousands of people committed real harmful crimes. This law is currently being negotiated, but the Spanish parties are trying to write it in a way that will leave as many people out of the amnesty as possible. At the same time, the Spanish judiciary system continues accusing new people of terrorism for attending peaceful political demonstrations.

For example, two democratically-elected pro-independence politicians (Puigdemont and Wagensberg) are being accused of terrorism for supposedly calling for people to protest in the Barcelona airport, a protest that was completely peaceful and which was called by a civil society organization and not by these politicians. But they're influential, so Spain looks for any way to punish them. How are the Spanish judiciaries claiming that Puigdemont and Wagensberg should be sentenced guilty of terrorism for an action where there was no terrorism? The Spanish judges' imagination has no limits when it comes to sentencing Catalans and Basques. They are saying that it's terrorism because some of the protestors had weapons. What weapons? Fire extinguishers, bottles, and the metal carts that people use to carry their luggage:

Because there were fire extinguishers and luggage carts in the airport and people brought their own water, a completely peaceful protest that happened there is terrorism. The worst part is that it doesn't outrage or surprise us anymore, because we're so used to this nonsense.

[taxkha]

would LOVE to hear your klapollo fic recs!! Personally I love anything by cosmicpoet on A03

Oh I have a bunch of cosmicpoets fics in my bookmarks! but okay okay, here we go! And if my wishes could all come true by SeaMint

“‘Our son’ my ass. You’re getting way too into this,” Apollo grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Is this your dream? Do you dream of being divorced and paying alimony, Gavin?”  Klavier doesn’t tell him that as far as dreams go, his is to live in a world where a relationship with Apollo, past tense or otherwise, is at all possible. Apollo doesn’t need specifics, or terrible confessions in vet clinics that show how badly Klavier wants to play pretend with him.

Or, Klavier, Apollo, and how cats bring people together in the most convoluted ways possible. Okay so. This one is my favourite Klapollo fanfiction, I literally left a big ass love confession in the comment section because I enjoyed it so much.

Lookin' for a boyfriend (I see that) by SeaMint Five times Apollo tells Klavier about his dates, and the one time Klavier finally gets him to stop. Love this one as well ahh ;_; if it's really me you seek by SeaMint

“Anyway,” Ema keeps going, fully ignoring his sarcasm in favor of staring at a neat corner where the walls meet the ceiling. “I asked if he wanted to go to your party together, but he said he wasn’t going.” “What?” Apollo suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. “Why?” “Hell if I know,” Ema says nonchalantly, but then she turns to him with a smirk. “See if you can figure it out: I believe he told me, and I quote—ahem—'Ach, I would, Fräulein, but I believe Herr Justice would be more comfortable without me there.’”

Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment. Can you tell that I really like this author shjhsamd Hot for Justice by indirectkissesiniceland

After the events of State v. Misham, Klavier finds himself in a slump, stressed at the prosecutor's office and unable to pen new songs. To his surprise, he finds creative inspiration—and unexpected feelings—spending time with Apollo. Now if only he could release the new tracks without raising any suspicion as to whom his love songs are for. Do...I even need to say anything I think this one is one of the most well known fics, ive seen it in pretty much every fic rec post so far.

just finally say you love me by ahmackalak

“Backpacking through Europe?”

“Ja! I’ve wanted to go for ages – it’s been so long since I’ve been back home, I figure I might as well make it a whole journey.” Klavier’s smile is as easy and agreeable as always, but Apollo isn’t buying it.

Barcelona, Paris, Geneva, Rome, Vienna, Prague, Berlin, Copenhagen.

A trip to Europe with Klavier Gavin...this’ll be fine, right? I like this one a lot too, its very sweet and ahh. Pining. PINING. Stupid Cupid by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS) In which Klavier botches his attempt to confess his feelings to Apollo, and somehow instead sends the entirely wrong message that he's already involved with someone else--a certain brooding and hawkish prosecutor, of all people. Cue the clown music. This is probably one of the funniest fics Ive ever read, I lost it at several instances. Monster Movie Monday by contritecactite

Klavier attends a bad movie marathon at the WAA, gets a boyfriend, and makes peace with Phoenix Wright. Somehow, the last part is the least awkward.

Set sometime post-DD but pre-SOJ. This one is very cute and wholesome, I love the idea of the wright agency kiddos hanging out with Klavier :") Need more of that. love at first sight (and other common misconceptions)  by experimentaldragonfire

Klavier's always been certain that when he runs into the person he's going to fall in love with, he'll just know. Apollo believes the exact opposite--that you can't fall in love with someone without getting to know them first.

After a bit of convincing, Klavier's starting to see Apollo's point.

Just read everything by this author, one of my fave authors. 10/10 humor and writing :3c in effigy by experimentaldragonfire

Apollo discovers some scandalous Gavinners merchandise in Klavier's closet. Klavier, having no shame, decides that this is an excellent opportunity to have some fun with it.

or, The One With The Official Gavinners Dildos This ones nsfw which I don't have to mention considering the...summary 8"D morning revelations (to sleep beside you from now on) by experimentaldragonfire

It’s not until he sees Klavier beside him, golden hair strewn over the pillow like some sort of Renaissance heroine, that Apollo Justice realizes he’s in love.

Apollo wakes up next to Klavier and has to come to terms with his feelings for the prosecutor. It's very cute!! This Is What You Do At Sleepovers, Right? by grimsparkblue

“Let me guess,” Phoenix said, one of those lazy, evil smiles he had back when he wore the same hoodie for weeks on end making an appearance, “You two were in the court library and the power went off. The front and back doors were locked because this place is ancient, so you two decided to tough it out until the cavalry arrived. Then the Brokeback Mountain itch hit you.”

Apollo and Klavier get stuck in the courthouse during a blackout. Enjoyed this one a lot, it's funny and sweet, as the summary suggests.

Just a Curiosity by GigglingGrave  Klavier is curious about how Apollo can see through lies. So, of course, he tries to figure it out. What he learns, however, is really much better than what he set out for. Apollo is really cool in this one and I love it when my boy gets to be cool. Baggage by u_andcloud

“Herr Forehead!” Klavier is calling out the nickname before he even realizes what he’s doing. Never mind that this is a German airport and people are giving him strange looks.

Apollo reacts immediately, and the instinctive response is gratifying on its own. His brow creases, he turns, and when he catches sight of Klavier, a disbelieving smile spreads across his lips, and Klavier realizes quite suddenly that, even after two years, he has not gotten over Apollo Justice, not even a little. This one is also really sweet. Jamais Vu by spaceburgers Apollo Justice, at 27 years old, is many things: a defense attorney, Khura’in’s Acting Minister of Justice, a mentor, a brother, a friend. And also, apparently, about to enact one of the biggest clichés of all time by sleeping with his ex at his former boss’s wedding. I LOVE THIS ONE, I already loved spaceburgers fics when I was still super into Sylvix, was very excited to see that they also wrote for Klapollo!! This one has nsfw in it! scoop of the century (read all about it!) by experimentaldragonfire

Working at a gossip magazine aimed at teenage girls is just a way for Apollo Justice to pay his law school tuition--until his article rating Klavier Gavin's outfits goes viral.

After that, he's got half the Internet reading his articles, and it's inevitable that Klavier finds out. This one is so funny!!! Also, read the second part of it which I'm not gonna link here now because its linked in the fic anyway, as its a collection. pen to paper, heart to heart by shepherd Written for the tumblr prompt, ‘instead of drawing the model in our art class ive been drawing you instead because i think youre really cute and oh my god all my papers just fell out of my folder and you saw them and oh my god theres hearts on some of them please kill me now’. Listen, I'm a simple gal. And a simple artist. Artist AUs really speak to me and this one spoke to me loudly. Its super sweet!! Loose Lips by judojudo "Please disregard all prior questions and instead just tell me one thing, Apollo," Miles Edgeworth's tone was half-smug and completely mocking and all Apollo wanted to do was melt into a puddle on the floor, never to be seen or heard from again. "Why are you on Klavier Gavin's wikipedia page?" I like fics that make me laugh and this one did, haha. we caught fire like california in july by lady_mab

n his head, Apollo mentally scolds himself for asking such a dumb question. Because of course Klavier likes him, right?

(Right? Being treated differently from a swarm of adoring fans isn’t necessarily a precursor for LIKE liking someone and what the fuck he’s twenty-four why does he sound like a high school girl from a manga trying to figure out if her crush likes her back?)

(Oh, that suddenly puts a lot of things into perspective, actually.)

(in which apollo contemplates the line between boyfriends and boys that are friends that sometimes kiss, and also contemplates turning into a crab)

This one is one of my faves! home is wherever i'm with you by bevioletskies At Athena’s request - or more accurately, her demand - the members of the Wright Anything Agency are spending their week-long winter holiday at a cozy lakeside cabin together for some quality team bonding. Much to Apollo’s dismay, she also invited their closest companions from the prosecutor’s office to tag along. With everything he thought he knew about Klavier and everything he has yet to learn, Apollo finds himself thinking he might have someone to ring in the new year with, after all. It's a bunch of AA characters having holidays together. What more do you want. Bricks, Lockets, and Other Christmas Presents by apolloyoostice Present shopping is always easier with someone you love, even if they do have a terrible sense of humor. This one is super sweet!! fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite) by experimentaldragonfire

In which Apollo Justice becomes the most popular fic-writer in the Gavinners fandom.

(and, along the way, realizes his Big Gay Crush on Klavier Gavin might not be as hopeless as he thought)

Honestly, when I read the summary I wasnt expecting to like it at all because this is usually not the kinda premise I'm into buuut I read it anyway because I liked the authors other works and man I had such a good time and many good laughs. The Main Event by ItsyRoyal Apollo had no idea that the flirty busker outside of his favorite cafe was his boss's brother. To be fair, Apollo also had no idea his boss had a brother. Theres a specific line around the end of the fic that had me wheezing. The rest of the fic is of course really good too!! The Definition Of Home by Hikari_Kaitou All Apollo wanted was to go right home after the legal conference in Seattle, instead of spending the night like his colleagues. He's never been able to sleep well in unfamiliar places. Unfortunately, circumstances beyond his control prevent him from returning to LA as planned, and in desperation he turns to Klavier for help. Klavier generously opens up his hotel room to him, which in turn leads Apollo to opening up his heart. Agh just. read it. Loved it. 13 Hours by Powerpossessor Apollo and Klavier are stuck together in a 13 hour layover. Stupid and hilarious antics ensue. Also, is it normal to slow dance with your friend in a dimly lit airport at 3am? THIS ONE IS SO SWEET AND FUN!!! can i go where you go by parchmints

Apollo Justice has rotten luck: he actually wins the grand prize for a mail-in contest, but It's a couple's getaway to a fancy ski lodge in the mountains and Apollo is aggressively single. With no one to go with, Apollo offers them to Klavier since surely, a rockstar would be able to find a date before then, but Klavier has a better idea—they go together and pretend they're a couple. That way, they both get a vacation, plus free food and wine.

And well, Apollo's never been one to pass up free food. VERY CUTE AND SWEET AND AHH. PINING. I love pining!! sweeping you off your feet by shepherd A short piece for a prompt on tumblr, for the quote "Please put me down, it's just a sprained ankle," featuring clumsy Apollo and his marriage to Klavier. A very sweet short piece!! Things Are As They Are by hechima

Klapollo cabin fic. That's really all this is.

Based on the events of "You Ever Been In Love?", in which Edgeworth gets drunk and rents a romantic cabin for Klavier and Apollo in Joshua Tree. Things go about as well as one could expect.

This is the most recent one in my bookmarks so the list ends here. I have a lot more bookmarked but these are the ones that made the biggest impression on me! Hope you or anyone else on here can find something they havent read yet! x)

[leopardom]

✨Carpe Diem Kris✨ speaking spanish

*the correct words and order is “nosotros somos”

**the order is correct but the correct sentence would be “estamos en la Barcelona pre-party”

for his drunk state he did pretty well though 🫶

[jokeroutsubs]

On their travels through regional and European stages, the Slovenian sensation stopped by in Rijeka, putting on a concert spectacle for the Rijeka audience in the sold out Pogon Kulture.

Huge international hype, triggered by the recognisable song “Carpe Diem”, threw this Slovenian indie rock five into a demanding concert tempo which has resulted in several European mini tours, confirming the growing popularity of the band outside of their country’s borders.

Despite their dense schedule of sold out concerts, just before the sound check, we caught the members of the band, frontman Bojan Cvjetićanin and guitarist Kris Guštin, and talked with them more about all current events and changes that will follow in the upcoming time period.

A series of “flying” gigs

“Our lifestyle has drastically changed in the last few months. For the first time, we’re travelling as a band and encountering new situations that we’ve never dealt with before, new great experiences and new small problems that, of course, come with it.

More or less, logistics on the road are the biggest problem, but we’ve just returned from our third tour this year. We played in Poland, Lithuania, and Czechia, and it was a really great tour that lasted about two weeks,” said Bojan.

Rijeka, as the last concert in the current cycle, marks the end of travelling with a tour bus. After a week of rest, the band will go on a series of “flying gigs”, which includes Skopje, Munich, The Hague, Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona, and, of course, Slovenia at the end of the year.

The fact that Joker Out has already won the hearts of the audience is certainly confirmed by the awarding of "Carpe Diem" with a Golden Record in Finland, as well as recognition by the prestigious booking agency Wasserman.

“We have always welcomed people into the team according to some key to enter our circle more or less naturally, and we were lucky when things rose to the point where actually Ryan, our booking agent from Wasserman, got in contact with us because he was at our concert in London.

He liked how things worked and wanted to start working together, so we were more than happy with the fact that a man from abroad was the first to join our team, somebody who first enjoyed our performance and saw a bigger picture and saw himself as a part of it, in maybe an even bigger version, in the next few years,” revealed Bojan.

Käärijä and Let 3

As much as the process of recognition and breakthrough came suddenly, the discography of the band came at a similar pace. From their beginnings in Ljubljana in 2016, they released their first album only five years later, and the second one - less than a year after the first.

The longer process of musical growth, which began in the band’s high school days, dictated the slow pace of searching for their own sound in singles which eventually, with disruptions due to COVID, culminated in their first serious discography steps, and then in the revolution called Eurovision.

Lightning fast popularity has brought a series of strong music acquaintances to the band, of which their close relationship with Käärijä and Let 3 certainly stand out.

“We met Käärijä at a pre-party in Madrid, he was on a similar energy level as us - he didn’t take himself too seriously and we didn’t either. He was quite open-minded and had a positive approach to the whole situation, so we really connected on that level during Eurovision when huge things were happening to everyone, in the form of media pressure and new situations every day, so it suited us all to have each other to share those feelings.

We stayed in regular contact, we even performed together during our Finnish tour. He left literally everything he had scheduled in his calendar and became a part of the band for four days,” Bojan and Kris remembered.

In a way, the Jokers are an even bigger anomaly in a region marked by a certain language barrier towards its western parts. Despite the cultural and genre homogeneity, Joker Out managed to suspend the primacy of “Serbian and Croatian trap folk music”, showing and proving that Slovenian shagadelic rock and roll also has a place in this whole genre cauldron.

There’s nothing like it in the Balkans

The guys therefore confirm that Slovenia has a lot of quality to offer in terms of new artists, and concert events as well, which are richer compared to the rest of the region.

“Before we started with ex-Yugoslavia, there was always the question of if there was space for a band of this type in the Balkans, because we know this genre of music isn’t the most popular right now. Actually, there’s no band like this in the Balkans, maybe just Buč Kesidi, so we didn’t know what to expect in terms of our popularity in these regions.

I think everything went really well, we were surprised how many people were eager to hear a live band, regardless of the language they sing in,” Kris pointed out.

And it seems that the regional (and worldwide) audience welcomes every new Joker Out show with open arms, because they sing along with equal intensity to the melodies in Slovenian, and also in English, which will certainly take over the steering wheel of the band’s creative direction in the coming period.

The same is evident in the fruitful collaboration with Elvis Costello, who was delighted with the single ‘Novi Val’ and earlier this year joined in the English version of the song, ‘New Wave’, and also the latest single ‘Sunny Side of London’ - which leaves little room for doubt about where Joker Out will set up their new creative camp.

“Next year in January we are moving to London, where we plan to absorb new energies in an unfamiliar living space, so we will change our environment in order to create a new album that will be released by the end of October 2024 at the latest.

We will be more in contact with the English language, which on the one hand represents a mental break for us, because we are used to creating music in the Slovenian language, but there will still be all kinds of material - mostly English, but also songs in Slovenian, Serbian, and Croatian,” Bojan and Kris concluded.

Translation by @moonlvster, reviewed by @klamstrakur.

[fcgoretzka]

Laž | Bojan Cvjetićanin

Pairing: Bojan Cvjetićanin x y/n (she/her)

Author's note: Here we go again, I basically kinda had a dream with this plot so I turned it into a fanfic. I am really happy with the result, it is one of the longest one shots I have written recently so yeah, I hope you enjoy 🦋

Warnings: Slight foul language (almost none). No proofread cause we die like men (as always)

She was as sure as ever. Bojan had been ignoring her throughout every single Eurovision pre party. It’s not like she was rude towards him or any other member of the group, on the contrary, she always loved hanging out with the band, while the same was for most of them.

During the very first pre party in Barcelona, the place where she met the boys for the first time, Bojan was overly excited to talk to her, gave her compliments and sweet smiles and grew quite fond of the girl before him. Same thing with y/n, she felt her heart skip a beat every time he said something nice about her, the way she looked, the way she acted, her Eurovision song. Jan made fun of them for acting like high schoolers in love but they didn't care at all. They both felt like a missing piece from their hearts was finally found through this meeting. All the boys made her feel at home, even played some party games which ended up with y/n sleeping on top of Kris's lap. So, when they parted, she was more than ecstatic to see them again, after hearing that they would both be performing in Poland a week after.

This pre party could clearly be described as pure chaos. The Slovenians landed some hours before and while they had agreed that they would stay at the airport to wait for her, Bojan backed out, saying that he was so tired that he would call a taxi to drop him at the hotel and he would meet them there. When y/n landed in Warsow, she quickly spotted the boys, gave a hug to Kris as he was the one closer to the gate and then froze. "Where is Bojan? What happened?"she asked as the boys told her he was feeling a little bit off and was already at their hotel. Her heart ached, he must be feeling really off if he chose to not wait for her, so she ushered them all to go to their hotel fast.

While only hugging Kris.

Bojan was not sick. He was not feeling off, he was not tired. Bojan simply didn't want to see y/n. It took a lot of strength to not wait for her, to give her a big hug and keep her closer. To look into her eyes, but it was for the best. For the best Bojan had created into his mind. Because he was sure, there was no doubt, everyone could see it. y/n liked Kris. That game of truth or dare planted a seed to his mind, and the way she fell asleep on his lap justified it all together. And it hurt, it hurt like hell. The moment he met her, he felt a deep feeling he had never felt before. He wanted to believe she was feeling the same way, but the chemistry she had with Kris crushed his walls down. He knew he didn't do anything wrong, but you can never talk a person into loving you. In addition, Bojan was adamant to the fact that when you love a person (and we are talking about two people Bojan loves as the same time, y/n and Kris) you must wish the best for them, no matter how much it hurts your heart. So the moment he heard his door knocking and y/n's sweet voice echoed through the hallway, his heart sank deeply down his chest but he got himself together as he heard Kris's voice behind calling his name as well.

Of course there was Kris as well. They liked each other. They were great for each other. They were both kind, outgoing, generous. He never wanted to be someone else more than this exact moment. But he had to be strong. Not let his guards down anymore. He is simply gonna ignore them, act as if he was asleep, they won't care that much, they will shrug it off. They will have more time together. He closed his eyes, turned his back to the door and kicked his feelings. The feelings that are growing more and more every single day.

"Bojan, I am really worried, please open the door."

That's it. That thing over there. Bojan. The way she said his name, the way she tried to come close to a Slovenian accent. He was sure Kris was teaching her how to say his name correctly, he was sure Kris was holding her hand now, he was sure Kris would try to steal the very first kiss. Nevertheless, he made his way to the door, the faster he would get over with the encounter, the better for him. He swiftly turned the doorknob and his eyes fell exactly on top of y/n's. She let out a sigh of relief and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "I missed you Bojan" she said as Bojan himself took advantage of every single second he was in her arms. Because the moment she and Kris would make it official, those hugs will be gone. All the hugs will be for Kris. He will be lucky if he gets a hug at his birthday. He managed to convince everyone that he needed this time alone to relax and will be up and running as soon as possible.

Lie.

The next two pre parties were hectic as hell and that made Bojan bless the God above for giving him the perfect opportunity to keep the distance he believed would be for the best. Everything kept happening so fast that he really didn't have the time needed to spend some moments with y/n.

Lie. Kris found some time to go out for a drink with her. Along with Jan.

And at that specific moment, the night of the last pre party, she was as sure as ever about that. Bojan is ignoring her. She tried to ask Nace about it during the time between their acts, him not giving her an answer that could please her. And at the moment she stepped her foot on the stage, her eyes searched for Bojan. And every word she sang was for Bojan. Every single emotion she felt was for Bojan. Her eyes were stuck on him, his eyes were stuck on hers. But after her performance, while she made her way towards them, all the way to Bojan, he stepped back and oh-so-slightly motioned Kris towards her way, making him her first hug of the night. Nobody sensed a thing, it was just normal, she wanted Kris's hug more than anyone else's right now.

Lie. She wanted Bojan's hug. She wanted Bojan's compliments. She wanted Bojan's reassurance.

Reaching to the Eurovision rehearsals, Bojan's nerves were on the roof. Seeing y/n and simply waving at her, he justified that on the fact that this event was huge for them, he wanted to give his best, he didn't want to let anyone down. And especially the moment of the actual semi final, where y/n had just qualified and there was only one last spot left for the grand final.

Slovenia.

A word Bojan never heard from the pressure and the fact that the only thing he could hear was the pounding heart on his chest, but felt a pair of arms hug him with all their might, repeating the word 'congratulations' over and over again, all the boys joining in this big hug. And Bojan felt nice. Felt relieved. Felt absolutely content and happy. Until Kris turned his attention towards y/n and offered some party drinks, and Bojan sank deep once again. 'I am happy for them. They are my friends, I am happy for them'

Lie. His heart couldn't have sunk any further down his chest.

80 and 78 points for y/n and Joker Out respectively. The word 'favorites' that was chasing both of the acts meaning absolutely nothing, the top 10 more than ten places above. y/n was devastated. She let everyone down, she let her country down, she let the people that supported her down, she let herself down. The first tear made its way down her cheek the moment the presenters announced her televoting points.

You get...21 points.

A loud no way was heard from the delegation next to hers, and that voice was a voice she could recognize from anywhere. Bojan. She too stunned to look at them, her gaze stuck upon the scoreboard. Final results, a 20th place for her and a 21st for Slovenia. After the end of the voting show and the winner's performance, people were slowly making their way outside of the arena, but y/n's gaze stayed at the same point it was before. 20th. She didn't even notice all the delegations leaving and only averted her gaze when she felt a hand touching hers.

Bojan.

"Please don't cry, you were amazing on stage. I am so proud of you" he told her as the silent tears kept making their way down her cheeks. "And so what? What if I was indeed that good on stage? It doesn't even matter because I failed everyone that believes in me" she raised her voice, new tears almost escaping the corners of her eyes. Bojan hated seeing her cry, it broke his heart into million little pieces. "I believe in you and you haven't failed me, y/n" he simply added as she looked at him. Just a small look into his eyes turned her deep sadness into anger. Anger for every single moment he set her aside, every single moment he ignored her. He thought he had the right to support her now, after all those countless days that she felt left out?

"You have got to be kidding me Bojan. After all those days that you don't pay the slightest attention to me, that you do everything you can to ignore me, now you want to support me? Does this seem normal to you?" she burst out, her voice raising with every word she said. Bojan stood quiet, not sure on how to react, on what to say. Should he mention Kris? Should he mention his feelings? Should he just close his eyes and follow his heart?

"I don't want to steal time from you and Kris, y/n" he simply stated, a lump forming in his throat just by the thought that passed by his mind. "You make each other happy, and I am sure you fit each other perfectly.". y/n stayed shocked by what he said, did Bojan seriously think that there was something going on between her and Kris? "Wait, where did that come from? I don't like Kris, what are you saying? Who told you that?" she said looking at Bojan more serious than ever. Bojan averted her gaze and she got a gentle hold of his chin, turning his face to look at her. "Bojan, please answer me".

"Jure also noticed that, not before me though"

Lie.

"Even if he did notice that, Bojan, why didn't he start ignoring me as you did? This makes zero sense, please tell me what's the matter" she stated and Bojan couldn't control himself anymore.

"Because Jure doesn't have feelings for you. Jure doesn't suppress his whole entity because his love for you is growing stronger and stronger. Because Jure is not me y/n"

y/n stared into Bojan's eyes, as he saw them glistening with tears. Bojan felt his whole head spinning, y/n not answering to his sudden outburst. 'I fucked up'

Suddenly, y/n's hand found its way on Bojan's cheek. " You are really dumb aren't you?" she simply stated as Bojan furrowed his eyebrows. And then he caught a glimpse of her gaze. No, there was no way he was imagining things. Her gaze averted between his eyes and his lips, he saw that. Bojan nodded and y/n got this as a cue to instantly lock her lips with the sweet pair of his, while his hands moved to her small back. "It's me? Not Kris? It's me?" Bojan said out of breath as she smiled. " It couldn't be anyone else but you. You have a lot of broken parts to fix here, you made me feel like the least wanted person for more than a month now" she stated, the smile never leaving her lips. Bojan nodded, regret filling his mind and thoughts.

He wasn't at the airport to pick her up, he didn't hug her after the pre parties, he didn't spend time with her during the rehearsals. He missed a hell lot of opportunities to make so many memories with her, all because of his haunting thoughts. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, kissing the top of her head.

"Can we start this process by getting you a congratulations drink? The drink that I chose not to get to you during the pre parties?"

She simply nodded as she heard a voice coming from the main entrance of the arena "I fucking told you Jan, you owe me 50 euros."

[volturiwolf]

Ker si en delček vzela s seboj - Bojan x fem!musician!reader - part 1

A/N: Sentences/words written in italics are in their native languages, or to emphasize a few things.

A/N 2: AI was mostly used to write the lyrics, I changed a few things.

A/N 3: Not everything is accurate/according to what actually happened. Many things are made up, like this story.

A/N 4: This story and the way the characters play out have nothing to do with the real people. This is an imaginary story, in an imaginary world, with imaginary situations.

This series contains explicit/mature/adult content (use of drugs and alcohol, explicit material, swearing, etc).

“But I got my power in my hand / You hold no power over me

And I’ll take my flowers while I can / So let the love shower over me”

Dilja’s song had to be one of my favorite but most underrated songs of this year’s competition. She was not even 21,5 and her voice was pure power. She was performing right after us, so I got to watch her from the side, as soon as we got off stage because I didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Hey, (Y/N). Come on, everyone went back in the box.” Alex nudged me a bit to get my attention.

The ‘box’ wasn’t a box per se; it was a designated area for all the Eurovision acts to hang out during the Barcelona pre-party, surrounded by fans, other contestants, and past contestants. It had soft sofas, and tables full of snacks and drinks. Thank God, because I was already feeling my feet hurting from all the sightseeing we did yesterday.

“Give me a sec. She’s almost done.” I was moving around on my own, trying to be as respectful as I could during Dilja’s performance. 

Once she finished, I clapped along with the audience and waited for her as she walked off stage to give her a congratulatory hug. We walked towards the box to meet the others as ‘Wild Youth’ was ready to take the stage.

It was only the first of the ESC Pre-Parties but we were all lucky to stay in the same hotel, so I got to meet the others in the hotel lobby two days ago. Our band, ‘Kitty Revival’, which was representing Greece, arrived a few days before the others, so we had some time to explore the city on our own.

I hadn’t been here in almost 9 years (tomorrow, it would be 9 years actually) and I was excited to see all the places I didn’t get to see when I was here on my last-year school trip.

Dilja and I got along from the beginning and got to do some sightseeing together. My sister also came along as she was the only one who spoke Spanish and I had once promised her to take her to Barcelona sometime in the future. She was only a year older than Dilja so they had a few things in common - more than Dilja and I actually.

Until now, I had met all of the acts at the pre-party, and I had made some friends - mostly Dilja, Mae, Iru, and Joker Out. Most of them were younger than me, but we still had a lot to talk about, like living the whole Eurovision experience - or at least, part of it.

Greece hadn't been participating in the pre-parties, but I really wanted to take the chance. It didn’t only mean song promotion, but also PR and getting to know the other participants. We practically had to beg the Greek delegation to let us participate in the pre-parties because they actually thought we shouldn’t. 

As Dilja went to sit next to Mae, I went to sit next to my bandmate, Alkmini “Mini”, but Jan from JO quickly took over the seat. I raised my brow at him, but he just shrugged and pointed towards his old seat, next to Bojan, his bandmate.

I turned towards Mini. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

She simply nodded and I went to sit next to Bojan. The Slovenians had already performed first out of everyone else, so he was now stretching comfortably, but the moment he saw me, he moved a bit to make some space for me. “Thanks”, I murmured, hoping he’d hear it.

“You were amazing out there!”, Bojan tried to speak over Ireland’s song but he ended up screaming a tad too loud, trying to sneak his arm around me. Thankfully, I was used to the loudness and didn’t mind, but his arm made my heart race involuntarily.

I turned towards him to watch him smiling brightly, looking dazed and mesmerized, making me wonder how many drinks he had already. I could already see that Kris - who usually looked very mature for being the youngest one - was on the verge of being wasted already, screaming and dancing around. And we weren't even at the actual party that was gonna be just us.

Bojan was a natural flirt and could mesmerize anyone - I got that from the very first moment we met, and I wasn’t going to deny that he was so good-looking, and how he was slowly but surely making me let my guard down.

I leaned towards his ear. “How many drinks did you have already? We still have a long way to go until the end of the night. We still have an actual party to go to later"

“I had a few. Don’t worry. I can handle my alcohol.” His breath was tickling my ear, and I felt goosebumps as he laughed with himself. I couldn't help but smile at him.

He went on to talk about all the places they visited with his bandmates, the 'Wild Youth' and the ‘Sudden Lights’ guys today; some of which I had already visited. He kept telling me that he was 'too excited' to see all these amazing places and practice his Spanish with the locals.

"Though I wish you could come with us, as well. I mean you…your bandmates and you. Not you, you, as in you, (Y/N). You know what I mean?" Bojan was laughing awkwardly, trying to deal with his sudden embarrassment.

"I know. I wish we could come with you guys, but my bandmates insisted that we had some extra rehearsals for today. It's the first time we play outside of our usual area range, and everybody's kind of nervous about the whole thing. We mostly had people who speak Greek listening to our music and coming to our gigs, so this is totally different."

Bojan let out a giggle that made my heart thrill. "I totally get what you mean. Don't worry about anything. Your guitar skills are magija, magic, and your song is really good. I love hearing it. I love hearing you sing. Even if it's only in the back." Bojan moved a little closer at this point.

I didn't know how to feel about him at that moment. I wanted to lean closer to him, but it felt a bit out-of-character for me, and not entirely appropriate, given the time and place. I gave him an awkward thumbs-up and excused myself before I acted out of instinct that should not come to the surface.

I walked in front of Mini and gave her a signal to follow me. We walked to the bathroom, where it was significantly quieter than the box or the pit. I could think better here where I wasn’t overwhelmed with sounds, feelings, touches, and smells.

“Your cheeks are a tad red. You're flustered. What happened?” Mini had a talent for knowing how I felt without me saying a word, so there was no point in hiding the truth from her. We have been playing in the same band for over a decade now, so it made sense that she learned to “read” me well, even when I wasn’t trying to show any emotion.

“I think Bojan is flirting with me? Or not? I cannot really get him. He seems flirty with everyone - without actually flirting, you know? - but he’s more…expressive to me? He has confused me.” Maybe I was exasperating but the Slovene made me feel…things already, and I didn’t want to be just me, imagining things that weren’t there.

“Well, I do think he’s acting 'flirty' with you. And many others. But he hasn’t been like that with me, or Alex, or Dimi, or Stef. Just you from the band.”

“So? What do you think?”

“I honestly don’t know. Was he like that on the first day? When we went sightseeing?”

I tried to think of yesterday when we got into the mini-tour bus the party organizers booked for us and went around the town with Joker Out, Wild Youth, Sudden Lights, Tvorchi, Iru, Dilja, and Mae. We started early in the morning so we'd have enough time to see everything.

I was supposed to sit with the girls in the last row, but it was already taken by Jure, Jan, Conor, Andrii, and Jimoh. So, now we all had to split.

Iru and Mae sat together, and Dilja sat with my sister; Ed decided to sit next to our tour guide, with Callum and David close by.

I wasn’t annoyed by that; I was going to sit with Mini either way, but, at the last minute, she chose to sit with Dimi, leaving Alex and Stef to sit together. Okay, I would sit on my own - no issue with that.

Okay, I was annoyed; it reminded me of my school years, being the last one to get selected for anything. I couldn’t wait for the bus to start, so I wouldn’t have to think about being alone, not being chosen, and such, even if it wasn't supposed to be for long.

Against my initial thoughts, I felt someone sit next to me. I pretended I didn’t notice, but then they tapped my shoulder and I had to turn to look at them. To my surprise, it was Bojan who sat next to me.

I raised my glasses to look at him better. “What happened? Did your band abandon you, too?”

He looked around the bus, pointing at Kris and Nace who sat diagonal from us, in the front. “You could say that. They sat in pairs and I was left out. I hope you don't mind me sitting with you. I had nowhere else to sit."

So, he didn't choose to sit with me. It was just a convenience. "Yeah, no problem. Don't mind me." I turned around to look outside of the window; I really wished I had my headphones with me at that moment, but I left them in my hotel room.

Part of me was trying to focus on watching the city as we drove through it, but the other part of me was trying to decipher what Bojan was doing right beside me, without actually having to turn around and look at him.

“Hey, um…(Y/N), right?” Bojan spoke up and I had to turn around again.

“Yeah. And you’re Bojan. Bojan Cvjetićanin, right?” I raised an eyebrow at him. I thought he heard my name yesterday when we introduced ourselves to each other.

“Yeah.” He smiled widely. “I didn’t expect you or anyone to remember my last name actually.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“I remember everyone’s full name. Part of having an acoustic encoding and a photographic memory.”

“Oh, nice. So, (Y/N), speaking of photographic memory, do you know where we are going? I didn’t have time to look at our program.”

The program was given to us, specifically to know when and what we would do each day!

"Well, they'll drive us up to Montjuïc Hill first, so we can see the city from above. We'll visit the castle and then they'll drive us to the Botanical Gardens, then to Anella Olímpica, which is actually near the venue where the party with the fans will take place. Then, we'll visit the Spanish Village, then Parc Güell, and then, back to the city center. They'll leave us at Barri Gòtic, the gothic neighborhood and we have free time to visit whatever we want. I'll go to the Picasso Museum, Casa Battló, Casa Amatller, Casa Malagrida, and I'll have to find a way to go to Sagrada Familia, otherwise, I see myself unable to walk in the near future. Lunch is at 5 o'clock. The meeting point is Plaça de Catalunya, which is actually close to where we're having tomorrow's private party."

"Do they say what kind of lunch are we having?"

"They mention 'traditional Spanish cuisine', so I assume tapas, paella, gazpacho, and such."

"Oh, okay. I hope they got the memo about Nace on time."

I thought about it for a moment. "He shouldn’t eat gluten, right?”

“Yeah..? How do you know about that?”

“Because I cannot eat dairy and sugar, so I had to email them beforehand to let them know. So they sent me the menu to choose feasible options and let me know that there would also be gluten-free options for ‘another contestant’ with intolerance, just in case I had any other dietary restrictions. And I actually shouldn’t eat gluten because of my thyroid, but there aren’t enough gluten-free options in Greece, so...”

I just realized I started talking too much again and I stopped before I embarrassed myself more than I had already, but Bojan was looking at me…fascinated. His eyes were on me and he was perked up, waiting for me to continue my narration, but I thought that he hadn’t talked at all yet.

“So, have you ever been to Barcelona before?”

“As a band, no. Only Jure has never been here before. I was actually born here but we moved back to Slovenia when I was little, although I think I know a few Spanish but only now do I get the chance to speak with someone who actually speaks the language, you know? What about you? Have you?”

“Actually yeah, I have been to Barcelona before, but like almost nine years ago. Last-year school trip. We call it ‘triti lykeiou’, the third of high school. So it’s been some time, and even then, we didn’t get to see everything, or at least things that I wished we could see, like the inside of Sagrada Familia or the Picasso Museum.”

We continued talking for most of the time, from the moment we sat together on the bus till the moment we went back to the hotel, as Bojan became one of my ‘fellow travelers’ for the day, along with the rest of Joker Out, my band, and my sister. Bojan turned out to be a very pleasant person to talk to; it felt like I was talking to an old friend - effortless, familiar, meaningful. He was the most sociable and chatty out of all JO members, though, at times, I appreciated Jan’s more quiet company.

“I don’t know. Really. He was talkative, friendly. He may have seemed flirty and all that, but maybe it’s his way of communicating with others. Every time I try to speak with someone, they think I come out as flirting with them when I don’t. Maybe that’s just Bojan.” I shrugged, not caring to talk about it further.

“Okay. So, do you actually want to pee or…? We have been here for some time. The boys will be worried.”

“You can go back if you want. I’ll pee and I’ll be back shortly.”

I was quickly done, but stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes, going through the photos I took yesterday. Bojan was in at least 90% of the group photos. He was obviously very photogenic, and he looked so smiley and happy. I took photos of every single one of our tour group, but Bojan would constantly find a way to get in, photobombing everyone’s photos.

I caught myself smiling, and I couldn’t deny that he was the reason I was currently smiling and silently laughing on my own. Going to his Instagram, I immediately saw he had uploaded on his stories and I was too curious not to click.

He had mainly reposted some videos from the Joker Out's official Instagram account with today's meet and greet, fans' photos, them getting ready for the pre-party, and a few short videos of them 'partying' before the audience pre-party. 

And then, there was a video of my band playing on stage, but going through the video, it was mostly focused on me playing my guitar. It was…different, seeing myself through Bojan's eyes; the way his camera was moving from my guitar to my face, watching my 'concentrated' look.

I felt myself getting hot and my cheeks burning again. I felt a pain in my stomach - not sharp per se, but it was enough to make me notice it, accompanied by a light headache. I was pretty sure that it wasn't because of the few drinks I had; I could only attribute it to the tiredness of the past couple of days. I hadn't eaten well because I was embarrassed to eat in front of the others, and yesterday was slightly too hot outside. 

I leaned against the wall, trying to take a breath, but I knew I just needed to sit down and everything would be okay. I exited the bathroom as calmly as I could and went back to the box to find a place to sit. 

My seat next to Bojan was now taken by Mae, who was laughing loudly and enjoying herself, sliding her hand over Bojan's toned arm. I felt a bite of jealousy and sadness in my heart. Of course, there would be others interested in Bojan.

Bojan himself was smiling back at her while drinking from his champagne glass. He was having fun, and he seemed as interested in her as she was in him. The pain in my stomach became sharper now, but I didn't want to let others know how I felt, so I quietly took a seat on Alex's lap, as I usually did.

Alex wrapped his arms around my waist out of instinct - that's what we always did; that's how we all acted with each other in the band. We were all very open with each other, to the point we would even walk around naked when we were staying in the same hotel room or tour bus or each other's house if we felt like it. It wasn't forced; we were just comfortable with being close and intimate with each other.

They were all currently discussing possible places to tour in the summer if we got good feedback from the competition and the audience.

"What do you say, (Y/N/N)? Where would you like to go this summer?" Alex spoke calmly.

"Ideally, on vacation." Everyone snorted laughingly. "But if I had to choose, I'd say ask the people where they want us and we can go on from there. See if there's a way to arrange something."

"I guess that would be the most fair thing to do. Since we don't know where we stand with the people's view in this competition."

They all nodded, agreeing, before going back to talking about food. I sighed, trying to forget that I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday night, and snuggled my head in the crook of Alex's neck.

"Tough day?" Alex whispered as the others continued talking to each other.

"Tough day, you don't say anything." I was close with all the guys in the band, but Alex was more understanding and easier to talk to.

Alex glanced at me rubbing my tummy. "You're not on your period, right? That was last week?" 

"No, it's not that. It's…" I looked towards Bojan and Mae, not so discreetly may I say, so Alex caught up quickly.

"Ha." He paused for a few seconds. "You're jealous. Who is it this time? Bojan or Mae?" I was open to my friends about my sexuality, but I never talked about it to others because I never had to or wanted to explain myself.

"Bojan. I don't know, Alex. I don't want to be just another participant thirsting over another one. Or be one of the people thirsting over him. I don't want to risk approaching him, only to be rejected. I'm tired of that."

Alex kissed me on my cheek and rubbed his nose against it. "I don't want to tell you what to do and what not to do, (Y/N). But I will tell you that we all take risks in our lives. We took a risk by being here, exposing ourselves to millions. If it's a risk worth taking, you should take the chance." He paused for a second. "And for what is worth, I think he may also be jealous now."

"How do you know that?"

"I've been glancing at him this whole time, and he hasn't stopped looking toward us. If looks could kill, I'd be chopped right now."

I turned my head to look at Bojan's side, and I saw he was already looking at us, mouth agape, and eyes wide open. We kept looking at each other for just a few seconds until he stood up and went away, probably towards the bathroom or somewhere else.

Could it be that he thought Alex and I were dating and he got jealous? No, no way. Bojan had a much too interesting life if I were to say so, looking through his social, to even care if I was with someone or not. Every participant was charmed by the Slovenian golden retriever. Everyone loved him. He had too many options to care about me and my life.

And he may have seemed interested yesterday, but today he was talking, drinking, and flirting with everyone like he was in his natural environment. I just had to forget all the things he made me feel, even for a day or two, and continue being civil with him because we had over 1 and a half months ahead of us until all this was over and we went back to our usual lives.

Though it was easier said than done, as, no matter how much I tried to avoid him over the next week during the Polish pre-party - unless it was a group activity or obligation, he always managed to be there somehow. 

Was it a last-minute meet and greet with local fans before the pre-party? He somehow was close by, with the rest of his bandmates, probably having 'decided' to make a sudden meet-up of their own in the same area we did.

I tried not to notice how flirty and handsy he was with everyone, especially Noa when she showed up at the Israeli pre-party. She wasn't sent to perform, but as Israel hosted the pre-party, she must have been assigned as our co-hostess and presenter for the night.

I didn't know Noa was Bojan's soft spot, his weakness, until I saw a random post on Twitter, dated 2 months ago. It was uploaded by the official Joker Out account on Twitter, featuring Bojan. Noa was his weakness - his ‘weak point’, to be exact.

Now it made perfect sense why he seemed so infatuated with her and was pretty much following her around the whole night, except for when he had to go on stage and perform. And even then, he personally thanked Noa for her hospitality and how amazing and organized the party was.

I was really trying not to think of all that, not to think that the man I liked was flirting, touching, and partying with everyone else but me. I tried not to think that he could be going to bed with someone else, especially not me.

And then came Jere, going by the alias 'Käärijä'. And he was cute and kind and funny. And they immediately clicked with Bojan and they started spending as much time as they could together. And I would hang out with my bandmates, Iru, and Mae, and now also Alessandra, Alika, Teya, Salena, the 'Vesna' girls, and Elen, who went by the stage name 'Brunette'.

But it wasn't the same as it was that one day with Bojan, and though I was happy for him seemingly having found someone who actually made him happy, I couldn't help myself from wishing I was that someone.

Nevertheless, I tried to have as much fun as I could, without thinking of him or anyone else. And I did have fun, partying, singing, playing guitar, and going out with the other contestants, even Joker Out.

I was acting like nothing bothered me, and I was getting pretty good at it. In public. Because every time we got back to our hotel rooms, I fell into the abyss of my loneliness.

When we had a free day before the Amsterdam pre-party, everyone else went out, getting to know the city by night, but I decided to stay in my room, feeling too tired - emotionally - to have fun.

Lying in my bed, in my short, pink and wine-red nightgown, strumming my acoustic guitar, and humming, occasionally gulping some of the wine Mini bought a day ago, trying to find a new music or line for how I felt at the moment.

It wasn't usually hard to write a paragraph or two because it was usually a collective job, but I wasn't as emotionally charged before as I was now. Though, when I started strumming the chords, the lyrics started writing themselves.

You get on with life as that shy boy,

You're an adorable kinda person.

You like singing and playing hooky.

You like to contemplate life.

But when you start to daydream,

Your mind turns straight to him.

Sometimes I look at you and I look into your eyes,

I notice the way you think about him with a smile,

Curved lips you just can't disguise.

But you think it's singing making your life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for you to decide which you love more?

Singing or living?

You like to use words about life.

But when you stop talking,

Your mind turns straight to him.

You like to hang out with me.

But when left alone,

Your mind turns straight back to him.

You hate crying and confrontation.

But you just think back to him,

And you're happy once again.

Oh, God. It was as soppy as it could get. But I bet Alex and Stef could probably make something good out of it. I wasn't good at the final editing and corrections, but I was good at laying all my emotions on the table and coming up with a rough layout of a possible song. 

A rough knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. I checked the time on my phone. 01:36. Oh, no. I must have been too loud and someone got mad and came to complain.

I quickly and quietly tiptoed towards the door, waiting to be screamed at, for playing guitar at that time. I should have remembered that not everyone staying here was a Eurovision participant, and we were randomly put in our rooms. And it was probably late for some people.

Opening the door, I came face to face with a rather distressed Bojan. My heart fell at the sight of him. His hair was ruffled and stuck out all over the place. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than before, and his whole face was sunk.

"Hey, Bojan." I spoke quietly, aware now of how late it actually was. "What are you doing here? I thought you guys went out?"

He pointed into the room, and I took it as if he wanted to come in, so I took a step back to let him in. He walked heavily towards the small couch near the window, and let himself plop heavily into it.

We didn't speak for a few minutes, and the room felt heavy with awkwardness. I didn't know if I should speak or let him speak and explain why he was here at that time. I decided to break the tension.

"Hey, Bojan? Do you want me to bring you something to drink? Or eat? I have water, orange juice, cranberry juice, maybe some Greek koulourakia?"

He raised his eyes to look at me. His eyes were literally lost as if he was drinking heavily and managed to drive off somewhere he didn't know how he got there.

I took it as a signal to go through Mini and I's shared suitcase, and pick up a few things: a small pack of tsourekakia, a pack of oregano chips, an almond chocolate, and a can of Greek mountain tea from the fridge.

I placed them in Bojan's lap but he kept looking at me with those empty, lost eyes. "Eat up. You look like shit."

He let out a snort, smirking, as he awkwardly started opening the chips first. He snacked for a few minutes, occasionally closing his eyes, either out of pleasure or tiredness, I didn't know which one.

I looked at him closely, taking in his every perfect, little expression. He looked so small and fragile as he chugged down the oregano chips, like a little kid enjoying his afternoon snack. He saw me looking at him and offered me some of the chips.

"Thank you, but I can't eat them. They have milk powder in them." He shook his head and continued snacking.

He finished up and took the pack of tsourekakia in his hands, carefully examining the pack to understand what those were.

"They're like a small version of tsoureki, a Greek sweet-like bread which we eat as a snack, or sweet, or dessert. These have hazelnut praline in."

He shook his head again, as he opened the bag and grabbed one, throwing one in his mouth. The second he bit into it, his eyes rolled over his head, and I laughed at how much he enjoyed it. 

I grabbed the can of tea and opened it before offering it back to him. "To balance the sweetness."

Our fingers brushed each other's, and it felt like it was forever ago when I last touched Bojan. I couldn't help my need to stare at him forever. His chocolatey eyes sparked even more now than they usually did, probably because of the alcohol in the man's system.

Out of a sudden, he grabbed my free hand and pulled me into his lap. I was so shocked and taken aback, that I could only look at him with wide eyes. Thankfully, he didn't spill any tea on us or the couch, because it would have been awkward to explain how the sofa and the rug underneath were stained with cold tea.

I noticed my nightgown had risen a bit, so I quickly pulled it down before my underwear was shown. Bojan wrapped one arm around me, while the other started moving up my thigh and below my nightgown, where I tried to cover myself up. My heart literally skipped a beat under his touch and our close contact.

We could only stare at each other. I was scared of doing anything that he may misunderstand and he was a bit too cautious to do or say anything. Or so I thought because he leaned forward, towards me. I didn't move, partially because I was frozen and partially because I'd been wanting to be in this position with Bojan since Barcelona.

His lips brushed against mine, nibbling my lower lip enough to make my heartbeat skyrocket. I wanted to give in but I quickly realized that Bojan wasn't actually in his right mind and it wasn't okay to take advantage of his loose state. So, I pulled away and pushed myself out of his embrace. He tried to resist but he was weaker in his drunk state.

"Bojan, I think you should go to your room now. You're drunk, you're not thinking straight, and you may start doing things you will most likely regret in the morning."

"I would never regret kissing you. Not in a million years. Not when that's the one thing I wanted to do from the moment I met you." He spoke for the first time tonight, his voice coarse and intoxicating.

I couldn't deny that I thought he was a bit obnoxious at first; he seemed too happy, and excited, and bouncy to be real. But when I actually got to meet and talk to him, he seemed down-to-earth, and lovely, and loveable.

"I'll be honest with you. I wanted to kiss you since that day in Barcelona when we spoke for the whole day. But I know it, and you know it too, that you have to come to your senses, and if you still feel the same, we'll talk about it sometime in the future, okay? Now you'll have to go to your room before our friends come back."

Bojan tried to stand up with wobbly legs but fell back on the couch. I facepalmed myself, knowing that getting him to stand up and go to his room, two floors above me, would be extremely difficult, even with using the elevator.

"What if…", he mumbled, "...I stay here for tonight? Please?" He gave me his best, doe-like, pleading eyes, knowing exactly where to aim to convince me.

I sighed, not wanting or being in the mood to argue with him. I looked at the oversized bed and tried to make some calculations for how we were gonna fit properly.

"Okay, but I won't be giving up the whole bed. I'm older and sensitive. We'll both sleep as far as possible from each other, capisci?"

"Si, signora." Bojan smiled brightly, and my heart beat faster. I swore that man would be the death of me. Was I too old at 26 to die over a younger man?

Bojan extended his arms towards me, expecting me to help him get to bed. I took a deep breath to calm my rising temper and walked over to him. I grabbed him from the waist, slowly pulling him up, and he put as much weight as he could on me.

Lucky for me, the bed wasn't too far away. Because Bojan, though considered short for a man, was about 10 centimeters taller than me, and he was both muscular and curvy, just my type. Pulling him up would be a bit easier if I wasn't feeling under the weather, because of my upcoming period.

I managed to get him to bed safely, lifting his legs to lie down, and pushing him a bit towards the middle, scared that he was gonna fall off at some point. I noticed he had his eyes closed already, and he was breathing heavily, so I assumed he had fallen asleep already.

I went back to the shared suitcase and got some painkillers, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and placed them in the nightstand beside him. I personally never had a hangover because I always knew I couldn't handle alcohol at all, so I only drank in moderation. But I knew how awful a terrible headache can make you feel for the whole day forward.

I covered him with a blanket, as it was a bit chilly, even in the seemingly warm hotel. Bojan looked so peaceful, like a little angel, slightly smiling in his sleep. I took a picture in my mind and a picture in my phone, to forever remember that moment.

It was only then that I noticed I had a text message from Mini. I left my phone on silent mode so I never heard the text sound. "We're coming in 20. Do you want us to bring you something?" Sent 12 minutes ago.

It was a bit too late to text them. They would probably not see it on time. I walked carefully and quietly to the bathroom and called Mini from there.

"Ei, (Y/N)! Did you get my message? Do you still want us to pick up something for you?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's all good." I tried to whisper but also make myself audible. "Mini, can you do me a favor? Can you stay with Alex tonight?"

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Ehm, I...have a visitor tonight…"

"Omg, (Y/N)! Did you finally get laid?!"

"Wait! (Y/N) got laid?!" I heard my bandmates' voices in the background, whistling and making too much noise.

"No! No, it's not that. He just came to see me, and he was too drunk to get back to his room."

"Okay, tell me everything or I'll come over to see. Who is it? Is he cute? What does he look like?"

"Mini, I can't tell you who it is. That's…private." Nothing was private with these four, but I couldn't just out Bojan like that.

"Is it Bojan?" Alex spoke clearly on the phone.

I sighed before speaking. "Yeah, it's him. Please don't make it way bigger than it already is."

"That's what she said! But seriously, I'm just messing with you. And don't worry about Mini; she'll stay with me. Maybe one of us will get lucky tonight."

There were a few milliseconds of silence before Alex growled an "Aouts!", probably Mini's response to his comment. I snorted. Alex wasn’t that type of a guy; he just liked to mess up with his friends, and he knew that Mini wasn’t one to enjoy his pranks, so he did it more to her.

“(Y/N)? Where are you?” I heard Bojan whining from the room.

“Guys, I have to go now, okay? I’ll text you if I need anything.”

I got off my phone before anyone could respond, and I walked out of the bathroom. Bojan was lying on his left side, eyes half closed, looking towards the bathroom door. I moved closer to the bed, and he shot me a sweet, yet bright smile upon seeing me.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t sure how to approach him or his state; I didn’t want to seem like I was hitting hard on him or that I was looking for any reason to get close to him.

“Can you please come over?” His voice was coarse and it gave me goosebumps.

I slowly crawled onto the bed, moving slowly to keep myself covered. Bojan’s eyes never left mine, as he watched me moving around and getting closer and closer to him.

“Closer. Please.”

I crawled again until I reached him and laid down beside him, facing him. His eyes still held an untold tiredness, but he still kept them open, as if I’d walk away the second he closed them once again. He moved his arms around me, slipping one underneath me and pulling me into his embrace.

His body felt warm and inviting, and I could now smell the scent of his clothes and his body: baby powder, musk, vanilla, and sandalwood, all mixed together in a scent that took over my mind.

His hands were moving up and down my back and arms in a comforting way, and he was breathing a bit more heavily now. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment, though I knew I shouldn’t be getting that close with someone I had no future with - short-term or long-term.

Either way, we were from two different countries, living in two different worlds, and busying ourselves with different tasks. The only thing we had in common was that we were in a band, each of us representing their own country in Eurovision.

Just the thought of losing Bojan like that, expectedly and naturally, made me tear up, but I quickly forced myself to gulp my sadness and tears down. I didn’t want to upset him. This was a beautiful and emotional moment between us and I would ruin it if he noticed my wet, sunken eyes.

I calmed myself down and tried steadying my breath, though that led to me getting more and more sleepy in Bojan’s arms. And though I didn’t want to disturb his peace by staying there, I couldn’t bring myself to leave his soft touch, especially when Bojan laid his head on mine and started humming a - I assumed Slovenian - lullaby.

His voice, even when he was singing that low, was heavenly. I didn’t know what it meant, but I let myself enjoy Bojan’s rich, deep voice. He was singing and caressing my head, sliding his fingers through my hair and making my being go numb. 

It only took a couple of minutes of Bojan singing lullabies for me to fall asleep in his arms.

[fearinfected]

// heading to Barcelona tomorrow and have only just finished packing

won't be around for munday so have some pics under the cut of me post-packing frenzy/pre- family party where I have to pretend to be a functioning member of society:

[gardenofkore]

Vere novo , priori jam mutato consilio , Alienora virgo regia , insignis facie , sed prudentia & honestate prestantior , futura Regina Sicilie , atque cum ea Nymphe obsequiis apte regalibus , accepta benedictione parentum , ab urbe Neapoli gloriosas discessit , per Calabriam , propter maris tedium , usque Regium iter agens : quam discedentem Neapolitane matres , quantum spectantes oculi capere potuerunt , effusis pre gaudio lacrimis affequute sunt.

Gregorio Rosario, Bibliotheca scriptorum qui res in Sicilia gestas sub Aragonum imperio retulere, I, p.456-457

Eleonora was born in Naples in the summer of 1289 as the tenth child (third daughter) of Carlo II lo Zoppo of Anjou, King of Naples, Count of Anjou and Maine, Count of Provence and Forcalquier, Prince of Achaea, and of Maria of Hungary.

Nothing, in particular, is known about her childhood, which she must have spent with her numerous siblings in the many castles of the Kingdom.

She is first mentioned in a Papal bull dated 1300 in which Boniface VIII annulled the marriage of 10 years-old Eleonora to Philippe de Toucy, Prince of Antioch and Count of Tripoli, (the contract had been signed the year before) on account of the bride’s young age and the fact that family hadn’t asked for the Pope’s dispensation.

Two years later, there were discussions of a match with Sancho, the second son (and later successor) of Jaume II of Majorca, but the engagement never occurred.

Finally, in 1302, Eleonora’s fate was sealed. On August 31st 1302 the Houses of Anjou-Naples and of Barcelona signed the Peace of Caltabellotta, which ended the first part of the War of the Sicilian Vespers and settled (or tried to) the problem of which House should have ruled over Sicily. Following this treaty, the old Norman Kingdom’s territory (disputed between the French and Spanish born ruling houses) was to be divided into two parts, with Messina Strait as the ideal boundary line. The peninsular part, the Kingdom of Sicily, now designed as citra farum (on this side of the farum, meaning the strait, later simply known as the Kingdom of Naples ), and the island of Sicily, renamed the Kingdom of Trinacria, designed as ultra farum (beyond the farum).

The Peace of Caltabellotta stipulated that Angevin troops should evacuate the island, while the Aragonese ones should leave the peninsular part. Foundation of the peace would have been the marriage between princess Eleonora of Anjou and King Federico III (or II) of Sicily (“e la pau fo axi feyta , quel rey Carles lexava la illa de Sicilia al rey Fraderich, que li donava a Lieonor, qui era e es encara de les pus savies chrestianes, e la millor qui el mon fos, si no tant solament madona Blanca, sa germana, regina Darago. E lo rey de Sicilia desemparava li tot quant tenia en Calabria e en tot lo regne: e aço se ferma de cascuna de les parts, e que lentredit ques llevava de Sicilia; si que tot lo regne nach gran goig." in Ramon Muntaner, Crónica catalana, ch. CXCVIII). The pact dictated also that once Federico had died, the two kingdoms would be reunited under the Angevin rule. This clause won’t be fulfilled.

The bridal party had to wait until spring 1303 before setting off for her new country since sea storms had damaged part of the fleet and thus delayed the departure. The voyage had cost 610 ounces, where the Florentine bankers Bardi and Peruzzi were asked to advance the payment, and the groom pledged to repay them 140 ounces.

By May 1303, Eleonora and her companions arrived in Messina where she was warmly welcomed and where on Pentecost, May 26th, of the same year she got married to Federico in Messina’s Cathedral (“E a poch de temps lo rey Carles trames madona la infanta molt honrradament a Macina, hon fo lo senyor rey Fraderich, qui la reebe ab gran solemnitat. E aqui a Macina, a la sgleya de madona sancta Maria la Nova, ell la pres per muller e aquell dia fo llevat lentredit per lola la terra de Sicilia per un llegat del Papa, qui era archebisbe, que hi vench de part del Papa, e foren perdonats a tot hom tots los pe cats quen la guerra haguessen feyts: e aquell dia fo posada corona en lesta a madona la regina de Sicilia, e fo la festa la major a Macina que hanch si faes.” in Ramon Muntaner, Crónica catalana, ch. CXCVIII).

After the wedding, most of the bridal party returned to Naples, while the newlyweds proceeded to Palermo.

On July 14th 1305 Eleonora gave birth to the heir, who was called Pietro in honour of the child’s paternal grandfather, Pere III of Aragon. To celebrate his son’s birth, Federico III gifted his bride of Avola castle and the surrounding land, to which will be added the city of Siracusa (in 1314), Lentini, Mineo, Vizzini, Paternò, Castiglione, Francavilla and the farmhouses in Val di Stefano di Briga. This gift would mark the creation of the Camera reginale, which would become the traditional wedding present given to Sicilian Queen consorts, and eventually would be abolished in 1537.

Including Pietro, she would give birth to nine children: Costanza (1304 – post 1344), future Queen consort of Cyprus, Armenia and Princess consort of Antiochia; Ruggero (born circa in 1305 - ?) who would die young; Manfredi (1306-1317) first among his brothers to hold the title of Duke of Athens and Neopatras; Isabella (1310-1349) Duchess consort of Bavaria; Guglielmo (1312-1338) Prince of Taranto and heir to the Duchy of Athens and Neopatras following the death of his brother; Giovanni (1317-1348) Duke of Randazzo, Count of Malta, later also Duke of Athens and Neopatras and Regent of Sicily; Caterina (1320-1342) Abbess of St. Claire Nunnery in Messina; Margherita (1331-1377) Countess Palatine consort of the Rhine.

Through these donations Eleonora became a full-fledged vassal, and had to pay homage to her husband the King. Thanks to official documents, we get the idea that Eleonora tried to manage her lands as much personally as she could do, naming herself vicars, administrators, and granting tariff reductions. Federico indulged his wife as much as he could, although in some cases (like the management of the city of Siracusa) his will was the only one taken into account.

Despite almost every time she was unsuccessful, Eleonora fully embraced her role as mediator between the Aragonese and Angevins. For example, in 1312 her brother-in-law, King Jaume II of Aragon, asked her to dissuade her husband (Jaume’s brother) to ally himself with the Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich VII of Luxembourg since this alliance could generate new friction with the Angevin Kingdom, as well as with the Papacy (with the risk of stalling the Aragonese occupation of Sardinia). After the King of Aragon, it was Pope Clemente’s turn to ask Eleonora to convince Federico to make peace with Roberto of Anjou. In both cases, though, her conciliatory efforts didn’t work.

In 1321 she witnessed her son Pietro being associated to the throne and thus crowned in Palermo (“Anno domini millesimo tricentesimo vicesimo primo, dum Johannes Romanus Pontifex contra Fridericum Regem, & Siculos propter invasionem bonorum Ecclesiarum precipue fulminaret, Fridericus Rex primogenitum suum Petrum, convenientibus Siculis, coronavit in Regem, & patris obitum, inopinatum premetuens, & ut filius qui purus videbatur & simplex, ab adoloscentia regnare cum patre affuesceret patrisque regnando vestigiis inhereret […]” in Gregorio Rosario, Bibliotheca scriptorum ..., I, p. 482). Pietro’s coronation publicly violated the Treaty of Caltabellotta (as the Kingdom should have returned to the House of Anjou), causing the pursuing of warfare between Naples and Palermo. Once again Eleonora’s attempts at peace-making failed miserably, with her nephew, Carlo Duke of Calabria, refusing to even meet her in 1325, after he had successfully raided the outskirts of Messina.

The Queen didn’t have much luck in internal policy too as she failed to appease her husband and her protegé, Giovanni II Chiaramonte. After gravely wounding Count Francesco I Ventimiglia of Geraci (his brother-in-law and one of the King’s trustees), all that Eleonora could do was advise Chiaramonte to flee to avoid the death penalty.

Nevertheless, the Pope still hoped to use the Queen (who, at that time and alone in her Kingdom,  was exempted from the Papal interdict) as mediator with her husband, promising to lift the excommunication in exchange for Federico’s backing down. Once again nothing happened.

On June 25th 1337 Federico III died near Paternò. He was buried in Catania since it was too hot for the body to be transported to Palermo (“Feretrum humeris nobiliores efferunt. Adsunt Regii filii, proceresque Regni. Exequias Regina, illustribus comitata matronis, prosequitur.” in Francesco Testa, De vita, et rebus gestis Federici 2. Siciliæ Regis, p.225). After the death of her husband, the now Dowager Queen turned to religion, following the example of those in her family who had consecrated themself to Christ (“At Heleonora certiorem fe de illa consolandi rationem inivit. Ipsa enim , ut Rex excessit e vita, ei, qui omnis consolationis fons est, fese in Virginum collegio Franciscanæ familiæ Catinæ devovit; in hoc Catharinan , & Margaritam filias imitata, quæ in ætatis flore, falsis terrestribus, contemptis bonis, Christ, cui fervire regnare est, in sacrarum Virginum Messanensi Collegio, de Basicò dicto, ejusdem Franciscanæ familiæ fese consecrarant; quod Collegium posteaquam Catharina fancte gubernavit, sanctitatis opinione commendata deceffit” in Francesco Testa, De vita..., p.226).

If Eleonora might have hoped to exert some kind of influence as many other Queen mothers did in the past and would do in the future over their weak-willed royal children, she would soon realize she had a powerful rival in the new Queen consort, her daughter-in-law, Elisabetta of Carinthia. Like Eleonora, the new Queen supported the Latin faction (a group of Sicilian noblemen who opposed the Aragonese rulership over Sicily, hoping the island would be returned under the influence of the Angevins instead). But, while Elisabetta had managed to raise the Palizzis to the highest positions at court, her mother-in-law still supported the Chiaramonte, making it possible for the exiled Giovanni II to return to Sicily, be pardoned by the King and see all his goods be returned. Soon though Chiaramonte resumed his personal feud against the Ventimiglia (also part of the Latin faction) and once again Eleonora's attempt to bring peace failed miserably. Only through Grand Justiciar Blasco II d'Alagona's intervetion, the crisis was averted.

In 1340, the Dowager Queen made a last attempt to appease the new Pope, Benedict XII. Unfortunately, the Sicilian envoys sent to Avignon to take an oath of vassalage (since Norman times Sicily theoretically belonged to the Papacy, who granted it to the Sovereigns who acted as Papal Legates) were treated roughly by the Pope, who declared Roberto of Anjou (Eleonora's brother) as Sicily's legitimate King.

Deeply distraught, the Dowager Queen resolved to definitely retire from public life. She spent what it remained on her life visiting the monastery of San Nicolo' d'Arena (Catania), joining the monks in their religious life. She died in one of the monastery's cells on August 10th 1341. Her body would be buried in the Church of San Francesco d'Assisi all'Immacolata (Catania), the construction of which she had personally promoted in 1329 to thank the Virgin Mary for protecting the city from one of many Mount Etna's eruptions.

Sources

AMARI MICHELE, La guerra del Vespro siciliano

CORRAO PIETRO, PIETRO II, re di Sicilia in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, Vol. 83

DE COURCELLES JEAN BAPTISTE PIERRE JULLIEN, Histoire généalogique et héraldique des pairs de France: des grands dignitaires de la couronne, des principales familles nobles du royaume et des maisons princières de l'Europe, Vol. XI,

FODALE SALVATORE, Federico III d’Aragona, re di Sicilia, in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, Vol. 45

GREGORIO ROSARIO, Bibliotheca scriptorum qui res in Sicilia gestas sub Aragonum imperio retulere, I,

KIESEWETTER ANDREAS, ELEONORA d'Angiò, regina di Sicilia, in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, Vol. 42

de MAS LATRIE LOUIS, Histoire de l'île de Chypre sous le règne des princes de la maison de Lusignan. 3

MUNTANER RAMON, Crónica catalana

Sicily/naples: counts & kings

TESTA FRANCESCO, De vita, et rebus gestis Federici 2. Siciliæ Regis

[eurotowne]

my heart breaks for san marino, ireland, and the other acts that have been treated horribly by weird esc fans this season. rest assured that if i we’re at that barcelona pre party i would be the biggest fangirl over these groups and whatnot. you don’t have to love the songs but come on….

[hexiflexi]

My Dnd Campaigns!

This is mostly for organization in my blog! Tags are named as follows: hexiflexi + abbreviation

The Losers Squad (LS) - My first every campaign! Set in a modern-day city, about the size of Barcelona, called Bchebol (pronounced cheh-BOWL). The PCs are Whiplash, a cocky air genasi dead-set on proving his acting skills; illiterate Levia, a water genasi with slightly murderous tendencies; Fother Little, a halfling with alchoholic tendencies and way too much money; and Bingus Flimmerman, a human man who loves his pickup truck Betsy and keeps the group together. The four of them go on adventures that are accidentally set up by their dreary acting agent, Wally Wilvalor, which usually involve silly deities, game shows, and Walt-Disney-stand-in Chuck Chadstone.

Eclipsea and the Wild Waters (EWW) - Eclipsea and Iska, two countries separated by the deadly Wild Waters, are at war. The story begins in a coastal city called Pearcha when a terrorist organization attacked during the rice festival. The characters of Albus Yorkwood, an illiterate, beefy former-model who is running from his father; Sora Kildaar, a shy dragonborn whose only dream is to live a free life; and Eilo (REDACTED), a frankly scary loner, join together to figure out how and why it happened. So far, they've had horrific encounters with their parents, discovered an ancient key with a connection to the wild waters, and made their way to Iska by sneaking past border control.

The 20 Celebrations of Inkiawiki (20CI) - The world of 20CI is split into two sides by the Senda Mountains, the west based on pre-colonial Peru, and the east on Croatia. The campaign started as two, half of it starting in a fishing town recently troubled with a plague that killed their fish (run by @ramenbowl234), and the other half by myself, with PCs tasked with going to heal the princess from the capital, Cuscanga. Each party made their way to the to the big city, and upon arriving, learned of the wedding between Prince Intiawiki and Basia Muri that would be happening in 4 days. Together, they were able to discover the truth that Basia was some sort of mushroom woman who aimed to kill/brainwash the population and defeated her.

Planet 36 (P36) - In a galaxy far, far away (lol) are three solar systems, called the Adastria System, the Lyra System, and the Red Ribbon respectively. Each have a few planets, which have sentient life and advanced technology by our standards. Space travel is common, and there are a total of 17 homebrew races, 5 of which were made by the players for their PCs. The story begins when a group of spaceships, transporting Michua Gata, a Gatan (tree person) who wants to find allies to free their people; Kelmykaless “Fry” Pelwiid, a Meshling (algae-shaped mesh-worm) who is trying to live up to his captain's leadership skills while he's gone; Aeris Cosmara, a Neridrake (dragon) who wants to learn; Paws Ta, a Raybi (can literally look like anything) who is terrified of space but wants to find their missing sister; and Pinky the Splendid, a Plungerian (a metal/rock creature) who was part of a delivery team but is also very interested in the galactic government, respectively, crash land on a mysterious planet. Upon arrival, Fry and Pinky discover most of their crew missing. Surviving off of the resources aboard their ship, they manage to make contact with Paws' sister's ship, a former member of said ship, the rest of Pinky's crew, and a large monster living under the planet's surface.

The Sun Conspiracy (TSC) - In the farmlands outside of Osali, in a district called Armurb, is a family's agricultural commune found by Mama Augusta, a water genasi who is 112 years old. The commune spans 4 generations and is quite happy living a simple life. The PCs are planned to be in charge of a delivery during the first session, and when they return, a very strange situation has occurred...

I'll post more as they come up! I do have some others in the planning stages, but I don't feel like adding any I haven't had at least one session for.

[tl-trashtalk]

leaving here with(out) you on me

Relationship: João Cancelo/Fermín López Marín

Additional Tags: Hook-Up, Semi-Public Sex, Flirting, Finger Sucking, blow job simulation, Age Difference, First Kiss, Sloppy Makeout, ass grabbing, Sexual Inexperience, Teasing, pre-hook up, Snogging, Eventual Smut, Mild Smut, FC Barcelona

Summary:

“I don't think anyone will notice if we slip out, do you?” Fermin asked, bluntly. Cancelo's eyes widened for a brief second. Then a satisfied grin was stretching across his face. or the one where Fermin and Cancelo snog a bit at the Barcelona Christmas Party.