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flowerandblood · 8 months ago

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The Fall from the Heavens (19)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, manipulation, angst ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She didn't know what made her feel an unpleasant constriction in her stomach when she saw the Iron Throne out of the corner of her eye. She stopped, looking at it, standing in the half-light in the distance of the great throne room, illuminated only by the light of the torches.

She thought with pain and bitterness that everything that had happened, everything they had had to sacrifice and fight for, was only because of someone being able to sit on it and declare themselves the only legitimate ruler.

Greed flowed through the veins of Targaryens as much as fire and blood, she thought with dismay.

Sunk in her thoughts, she headed for the throne room, thinking in the back of her mind that even if her father and mother agreed to come to an agreement to build a truce on the foundation of their marriage, if she did not bear her uncle a son, her husband's faction would surely begin plotting against her mother despite the agreement.

Even if her husband remained faithful to her, she could never fully trust him, be sure that he was on her side.

The perpetual thought of betrayal was destroying her from the inside.

She knew that in a matter of days her moon bleeding should begin and she knew what it would mean.

Disappointment and danger.

This was why, every morning for the last few days, before she had even had time to truly wake up, she had sunk her hand between her thighs, feeling her insides clench with fear and terror as she sensed the moisture under her fingers, which then turned out to her relief to be only her wetness mingled with her husband's spend.

It made her draw in a loud breath and smile, for a moment believing that maybe a miracle would happen.

That the gods by making his seed take root in her womb would also indicate to the kingdom that what they wanted to do met with their approval.

Later in the day, however, all it took was for her to feel a discomfort in her lower abdomen, a slight sting or pain, a wetness between her thighs and a cold sweat would fall over her again. She would then lose her appetite and although she ate her morning meal in the presence of her husband, she would later lie that she had eaten a second meal during his training and duties.

She was unable to swallow anything out of fear.

She had the feeling that later when he took her, already as her legitimate husband, something inside her broke, all her terror, her doubts and despair spilled out of her like a rushing river.

She was afraid of his reaction, afraid of his certainty that it was impossible for them not to have succeeded in begetting an heir even though her whole body screamed that it could have been different, that it could be months or years before it happened, and they did not have that much time.

His words, however, took her completely by surprise.

You need to calm down.

Come to terms as I do with whatever the will of the heavens decides.

She didn't know why she suddenly felt burning tears under her eyelids, why her lower lip began to tremble, why her throat squeezed so tightly at the wonderful thought that he understood that no matter how much she begged the gods for their mercy, she had no control over what would happen.

He let her know that whatever would come to pass, he would not blame her.

That he would consider it the will of the gods and not her failure.

She made love to him for the second time that night in his chamber, the embrace of his strong arms tighter than usual, the touch of his hands more tender, his lips finding hers again and again in sticky, greedy kisses as the deep thrusts of his hips forced his swollen manhood into her.

Even though she was a prisoner, she felt free, even though her enemy was taking her, she felt safe, even though some part of her thought it a betrayal, she loved him deeper than ever before.

Her lover.

Her husband.

Her friend.

She hadn't understood when she was still a child how important was the bond they had created then, the long hours they spent at night in conversation, in discussions, sometimes even arguments, after which, however, they always found each other again, realizing that they didn't have to agree on all issues.

She realised, lying with her face cuddled into his naked chest, holding her hand over his lazily beating heart, enveloped tightly in his arms with her legs entwined with his, that although at the time, in the context of their future marriage, what they were doing seemed unimportant, it appeared that it was in fact the foundation of everything that had happened between them many years later.

Had it not been for the trust and affection they had for each other then, they would not have been able to find their way in this reality that faced them now.

"I am truly fond of you, uncle." She said softly, sitting in one of the chairs in his chamber facing him, similarly engrossed in her reading, swinging her legs that did not reach the ground. She realised, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, that she had never told him this and she was not sure he had ever heard such words from anyone.

He lifted his gaze to her and furrowed his eyebrows, as if for a moment he did not understand what she had said; his face expressed consternation and embarrassment, as if he was unsure whether he should respond as a man to such a confession.

However, he apparently decided after a moment that since it was not an overwhelming confession of girlish deep love, but a simple expression of affection, he could also express his opinion on the matter.

"Well…I'm fond of you too." He replied cautiously and grunted, turning back to his book, pretending to concentrate on his reading with all his might – she could see the vein in his neck pulsing rapidly, betraying his excitement.

"What do you appreciate most about me? I, for one, value in you that you know so many things and always listen to me attentively. When I don't know something, you don't mock me but explain everything to me. I like it when you teach me and when you look at my embroidery, when you choose the ones you find most beautiful. I am very grateful then." She said quickly on one exhale, swallowing loudly, overjoyed that he had responded to her words, wanting to take advantage of this and convey to him as much as possible at once, which of course overwhelmed him as he did not look at her for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line.

It seemed to her that he was trying to hold back a smile, but she didn't know why.

He did a lot of things she didn't understand and refrained from emotional statements or gestures, however, it didn't bother her.

That was just the way he was.

She heard him swallow hard, gathering up the courage to reply something, pretending to look at what he was reading, although she was sure his mind was just analysing everything she had told him carefully.

"Well. I must admit that I also appreciate in you that you never mock me and listen attentively to what I have to say. I am fond of your presence, simply put." He muttered, clearly feeling that he was drowning more and more with every word he spoke, settling back in his chair a little, lifting his book higher, not wanting her to look at his face any longer.

She smiled contentedly then, happy, and went back to her reading without disturbing him any further.

She remembered that day exactly, for when she had escaped to him as she did every night, hiding under his bedclothes, she had fallen asleep almost immediately, tired after her long day full of duties. He waited apparently for her to fall asleep, hoping she wouldn't feel it as his hand touched her cheek, as his lips pressed against hers in a warm, soft, tender kiss.

She didn't move or open her eyes, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, her heart began to pound like mad with delight, for he had never kissed her first before, never kissed her like this before.

She thought of that night and that day as she watched him standing on the other side of the chamber in the morning, his servant helping him dress his black, leather tunic while her maid tied the bodice of her gown.

Their gazes met for a moment and she saw him sigh heavily, unhappy at the thought of what awaited them.

Borros Baratheon.

The Lord of Storm's End appeared in King's Landing at midday, accompanied by his son and his daughter, who it was agreed was to marry her husband. The King called a gathering in the throne room, at which she and her uncle were also to be present, to try to face the consequences of their somewhat joint decision together.

She and her husband stepped into a great hall with tall windows with seven-pointed stars through a side entrance. She swallowed loudly when she caught sight of the silhouette of a postured man, his beard, hair and thick black eyebrows furrowed in disapproval and rage at the sight of her, his lips clenched as much as his fists. Her gaze fled to the right, to the girl standing next to him.

Maris Baratheon lifted her chin higher at the sight of her, struggling to hide the expression of frustration and disappointment in her eyes, clearly hoping that the woman who had stolen her prince would be an ordinary and bland girl, standing in the shadow of her dragon husband.

She, however, had specifically ordered her servants to leave her hair loose, for although when she was a child its colour had driven her to despair, now she saw it as her advantage – her dark and shiny curls fall in gentle waves down her exposed back, accentuating her fair skin and bare shoulders.

Her gown was modest, black and matte, with floral ornaments embroidered in gold threads on her chest, her sleeves reaching all the way down to the ground.

Anyone looking at them from afar could have the impression that her choice of attire was no accident, even more so standing next to her husband clad in a black leather tunic.

They looked alike.

Their evidence of unity and intimacy, a wordless expression of their bond.

She wondered if she could see from a distance the previously red and now slightly purple bruise on her neck, a reminder of her husband's greedy lips, and if she was aware of what it meant.

She pressed her lips together at the thought, trying not to smile and provoke her.

Although she couldn't call her ugly or rejecting, there was something harsh in her facial expression and posture – her elaborate hairstyle with her hair slicked back was perhaps fashionable, but it didn't suit her beauty or her face shape. Her gown, though rich, did not emphasise her assets, whatever they might be.

She thought she wanted to look haughty, to show her that while she was a lady of a respectable house, she was a mere bastard, even if the child of a princess.

Everyone turned their gazes towards the main gates when one of the guards announced the King himself; her uncle stepped into the throne room confidently without bestowing even a single glance on Borros Baratheon, Aegon the Conqueror's crown shone on his head in the glare of light trickling through the stained glass filled windows.

She felt her heart pound like mad as her uncle took his place on the throne, her mother's throne, and she clenched her eyelids, reminding herself that he had extended a hand of truce and that if she wanted the matter of succession to end bloodlessly, she had to control herself and give him respect.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at her husband and swallowed loudly, seeing that he stood upright like a stone, all tense, his hands clasped behind his back, his silhouette expressing the same passive aggression she had felt from him when she appeared in the Red Keep after many years.

He was prepared for battle.

He was prepared to kill.

"My Lords. We are gathered here today to address a sensitive matter. Lord Borros Baratheon and his house have suffered an insult and have come to demand justice. My Lord." Aegon nodded, extending his hand, with this gesture showing him that he was allowing him to speak.

Lord Baratheon walked closer to the throne, followed by his heir and his daughter, her gaze full of poison and rage still fixed on her.

She did not look away.

She had no intention of giving her satisfaction.

"I have come to demand that the honourable Prince Aemond keep his mother's word and marry my daughter, Maris, according to his choice. I witnessed his arrival and that he confirmed in my presence my arrangements with the crown. Yet word has reached me that the Prince has secretly married another woman in a barbaric ceremony." Borros growled, his voice tubular and hoarse, full of strength and determination. She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her stomach, a shiver of discomfort ran down her spine at his words.

She glanced at her husband feeling him move beside her restlessly, enraged, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He tried to remain silent and not explode.

Aegon nodded at his words with understanding.

"I understand your bitterness, my Lord. Indeed, our mother forced my brother to comply with her will. However, in my presence and that of our entire family, our father, and your King to whom you vowed, during the supper before his death, announced his will to us.

He conveyed to us that he was keeping the betrothal between my brother and my niece in force, foreseeing the division that would occur in the kingdom once he left this world. After his death, my mother imprisoned my niece and ordered my brother to fly to Storm's End.

Therefore, as you understand, my Lord, the case substituted in this light clearly proves that his decision could not have been in force, for as far as I am aware, it is the King's decision, not the Queen's, which is the final one." Said Aegon with a lightness that shocked both her and her husband.

She could not believe how good a speechmaker he was, with what ease he played with facts and half-truths, creating a image in which, indeed, his brother was in a no-win situation and their nuptials were an act of honour and a fulfilment of their late father's will.

Lord Baratheon drew in a loud breath, furious, his face all red with emotion.

"Are we to accept this insult in silence, then? They did not marry in the presence of witnesses, they did not marry in the Sept, so their marriage is invalid. I demand justice for myself and my daughter." He hissed, Aegon raised his hand, ordering him to be silent.

"I understand the source of your anger, my Lord. However, you have a right not to know that last night my brother married my niece in the presence of myself and my wife before the Septon, who prepared the appropriate act, and their marriage is valid in the eyes of the realm.

I recognise, however, the injustice that has befallen you and my brother has decided to donate part of his annual income as a dowry for your daughter. In addition, you or your son, that I leave to you, will be granted a seat on the Small Council in place of my grandfather, whose decisions led to this…misfortune."

He said softly; Borros pressed his lips together at his words, looking at Aegon with piercing eyes, clearly not knowing himself what he thought of what he had heard.

He hesitated.

After a moment, however, a woman's voice echoed in the throne room.

"It is impossible, my King. No one will marry a woman who has already been touched by another man. The Prince has taken my maidenhood."

All gathered began to speak loudly, shocked by her words – she felt her heart leap into her throat, her stomach squeezed so tightly that she had trouble catching her breath.

She and Aegon looked at her uncle at the same moment, her husband standing as if stunned, his healthy eye wide open, his mouth parted in disbelief. After a moment, however, his shock was replaced by an expression of anger and fury, he took a step forward like a lion about to lash out at its prey.

"Lie." He growled, the voices of conversation and disbelief all around them even louder, the King twisted in his throne, completely not expecting this turn of events.

"How can we be sure that it was my brother who deprived you of your…virtue, my Lady?" He asked quickly, wanting to turn her confession against her, in case it appeared that her uncle was guilty, to accuse her of being able to be taken by any other man.

She lowered her gaze, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling the cold sweat run down the back of her neck, her hands clenched on her womb quivering as much as her body.

No, he would never have done something like this.

He wouldn't deprive a woman of her maidenhood knowing he wouldn't marry her.

Was she sure of that?

Maybe he took her as his wife that night because he felt remorse after betraying her?

She felt tears of despair welling up under her eyelids at that thought, feeling that for a moment she was in the throne room with only her body, no longer seeing the proud look of Maris who grinned seeing the expression on her face.

"I ran after the Prince once he wanted to leave. He took me in one of the corridors of our fortress against my will." She said without a shadow of embarrassment, as if dragging him down behind her was more important to her than her own honour.

She wanted to become his wife, the Prince's wife at any cost.

"Maris, good gods…" Mumbled her father, looking at her in disbelief, all red with shame at her confession, shocked as the others by what had left her mouth, knowing full well that she was not telling the truth.

"Disgusting lies. I followed my nephew out the stronghold and returned to the Red Keep to fulfil my duty to my father that same night. It was not your maidenhood I took then, shameless woman." He growled, and she felt heat in her heart and a burst of pride at his words.

Even though he had used lie against lie − after all, she was no longer a maiden then − the way Lord Baratheon's daughter swallowed her saliva, the way her body shivered under the weight of his words made her lift her chin, looking at her with superiority.

Insolent whore.

Aegon raised his hands in the air, clearly amused by the situation, ordering everyone to remain silent.

"As I see it, opinions are divided on what happened. Lord Baratheon is a party. Is there anyone else who could confirm your version of events, my Lady?" He asked lightly; the girl looked at him breathing heavily, her hands clenched on her lower abdomen. Aegon looked to the side, directing his gaze to his brother.

"And you, brother, can anyone confirm your words?"

"My nephew." He answered without hesitation.

She swallowed hard, reminding herself that he had, after all, allowed her to meet her brother, and the king wasn't aware of it.

That he could be accused of treason, lose Aegon's support.

"We exchanged a few unpleasant sentences before I returned to King's Landing. Only a brief moment passed between the time he left and our conversation. Certainly not enough for even the most desperate man to possess a woman."

"Who will believe the words of a traitor? Was it not he who took away your eye, my Prince? Did he take something else from you along with it?" She asked mockingly, her father looked at her in horror, his lips forming a silent, warning 'enough'.

She heard her husband draw in his breath loudly, his knuckles clicking in his fingers as he squeezed them as hard as if he wanted to break them himself.

"You were there, my Lord. You know that she did not run after me, and even if she had, she would have gained nothing. I chose her because she was most different from my wife. Lest she might ever think that I could lust after your daughter." He replied with a cold, deep hiss that echoed through the throne room.

She felt a wave of delightful satisfaction run down her body, and though she knew her husband's cruel words might have cost them everything, the look of disbelief on Maris' face was more than worth it.

Did she really believe that he had chosen her because she was the most beautiful of her sisters?

That he could ever desire her when she, his childhood friend, his confidante and lover was by his side?

"I do not know what I saw." Borros replied, however, without his previous confidence, not looking at him or the King, apparently trying with his last strength to protect his and his daughter's honour. Her husband snorted at these words.

"Pathetic." He sneered quietly, not daring to say it out loud; it seemed to her that his whole figure was trembling.

He was furious.

"If I were your daughter, I would be wary of such far-fetched accusations without any evidence or witnesses, my Lord. Some might call it as treason." Aegon replied, spreading out comfortably on his throne.

She couldn't believe some part of her admired him for how he was playing with the situation while still keeping what was happening under control.

Lord of Storm's End did not respond to his words.

Aegon's words were the nail in the coffin of whatever plan Lord Baratheon's daughter had in her head, and after her humiliating outburst, Borros agreed to the terms set by the king himself and the amount of her dowry, which her uncle-husband would pay out of his purse.

She watched with satisfaction and an involuntary smile on her lips as Lord Baratheon and his daughter were forced to sign the terms of the agreement imposed on them by her uncle.

Borros left the throne room like a storm, furious, without even bowing to Aegon, to which he only responded with an amused expression on his face.

Maris didn't dare look at her anymore, her face pale, from a distance she could see how red her eyes were from tears.

She wished to be a princess in a beautiful castle.

She could be his Rhaenys, but she had no intention of allowing any Visenya into their lives.

Even if it was one night in ten, she couldn't bear the thought of having to share him.

Fortunately, her husband was as possessive as she was.

The smile disappeared from her face as she felt an unpleasant, familiar stinging sensation inside her lower abdomen.

She clamped her hand over her womb as something warm and sticky ran down her thigh, a whine of despair and pain stuck in her throat as she pressed her lips together.

She took a step backwards, revealing the stone floor under her feet, and noticed a few drops of crimson liquid on it.

She was bleeding.

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batsplat · 1 month ago

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agassi/sampras please tell us more! the only thing I know about that rivalry is that sampras was very boring and they they disliked each other. but the way you talk about it sure makes it sound fascinating!

in a nutshell, the appeal is this

"pete. as always, pete"

imagine your whole career ends up being defined by one guy who you consider the "quintessential opposite" to you, who feels incomprehensible to you, who comes seemingly out of nowhere to beat you again and again and again and again. who is everything you could never force yourself to be. who seems entirely comfortable in a life that torments you. he denies you in what should have been your crowning moment. and then he ends his career by denying you again. inescapable and inevitable

agassi hated tennis with a passion. he hated tennis throughout his career - the sport he was never given a choice but to play, the sport he was forced to excel at. it's not an uncommon story in many respects, an ambitious father who sought greater things for his son... a cocktail of lofty expectations and the pressure applied to achieve them... the predetermined path in life agassi had been moulded to follow. and all of this forms the foundation for his fraught relationship with the sport (x)

as a seven year old, he already dreamt of quitting the sport, of just walking away and playing with his siblings, sitting with his mum - anything but tennis. except even then, it wasn't that simple. as much as he wanted to flee the sport, something about it also forced him to keep coming back for more. as he details in his autobiography:

Doesn't that sound nice? Wouldn't that feel like heaven, Andre? To just quit? To never play tennis again? But I can't. Not only would my father chase me around the house with my racket, but something in my gut, some deep unseen muscle, won't let me. I hate tennis, hate it with all my heart, and still I keep playing, keep hitting all morning, and all afternoon, because I have no choice. No matter how much I want to stop, I don't. I keep begging myself to stop, and I keep playing, and this gap, this contradiction between what I want to do and what I actually do, feels like the core of my life.

his father's favourite training method was to use a ball machine that andre nicknamed 'the dragon' - quite deliberately designed to look frightening, making andre flinch every time it shot balls at him. it spat out balls in unpredictable ways, all to make it impossible to hit it the same every time and forcing agassi to adjust anew for each ball. he was constantly instructed by his father - an iranian erstwhile boxer - to take the ball earlier and earlier, training his reflexes and adaptability through sheer brute force of repetition. what was being forged in the process was a game that was built to react to what the guy on the other side of the net was doing. in tennis, you can win both by attacking and by defending, by acting and reacting. agassi was moulded to do the latter

My father says that when he boxed, he always wanted to take a guy's best punch. He tells me one day on the tennis court: When you know that you just took the other guy's best punch, and you're still standing, and the other guy knows it, you will rip the heart right out of him. In tennis, he says, same rule. Attack the other man's strength. If the man is a server, take away the serve. If he's a power player, overpower him. If he has a big forehand, takes pride in his forehand, go after his forehand until he hates his forehand. My father has a special name for this contrarian strategy. He calls it putting a blister on the other guy's brain. With this strategy, this brutal philosophy, he stamps me for life. He turns me into a boxer with a tennis racket. More, since most tennis players pride themselves on their serve, my father turns me into a counterpuncher - a returner.

the biggest and most important weapon in tennis is the serve, and sampras had one of the best serves this sport has ever seen. like agassi a child of immigrants, his personal history is largely free of the angst of agassi's tale - though it should hardly be surprising that he had a strict father of his own to push him along his path. the type who was perfectly willing to make his disappointment felt whenever pete didn't live up to his exacting standards, even if pete was generally a pretty obedient kid, attentive of what his father demanded of him. take this anecdote about young pete speaking to a reporter after a big win at juniors level (from sampras' autobiography):

The next day, on the very same court, I lost something like 6-1, 6-0 to Mal Washington. I mean, he really schooled me. So after that match, the same reporter went over to Mal and got an interview from him. My dad pulled me aside and said, "You see that guy who talked to you yesterday? Now he's talking to Mal, because it's all about how good you are every day, not one day."

tennis parents. gotta love them

anyhow, sampras says he learned his lesson - and he also learnt to live by his father's straight-talking, honest ways. blunt and to the point. sampras was generally a considerably more straightforward character than agassi, "boring" as some might put it. he didn't hate the sport - he was good at it and he wanted to be better, always working tirelessly towards that goal like the perfect professional he was. to that end, he had to make some major adjustments to his game as a teenager, making the radical switch from a two handed to a one handed backhand and uprooting his whole style of play to make him the ultimate attacking player

But there were uphills and downhills, and my toughest challenge was changing my mindset from grinder to attacker. I had to learn to start thinking differently, and more. A grinder can lay back, waiting for a mistake, or tempt you to end points too quickly. An attacker has to think a little more: Flat serve or kicker? Charge the net, or set up a groundstroke winner? Is my opponent reading my serving pattern or shot selection? As a serve-and-volleyer, you attack; as a grinder you counterattack. The basic difference between attacking and defending is that the former requires a plan of attack and the latter calls for reaction and good defence. In both cases, execution is paramount.

'serve and volleying' as a playstyle has basically died out in the modern game (it still exists as an occasional tactic), but back then it was extremely common. the principle is straightforward enough: you hit a big serve and then you follow the ball, so that when your opponent returns it, you can hit the next ball out of the air (the volley). it's the purest attacking playstyle imaginable. it simplifies every service point, focuses everything in on the execution of just a few strokes. ideally, most rallies won't last longer than three shots - serve, return, first volley, rinse and repeat. short, fast, and sweet. when it is executed well, it is as lethal as it is efficient

agassi and sampras were part of a high profile quartet of american players to turn pro in the late eighties. the first of these to win a slam was sampras' childhood archrival michael chang, still the youngest man ever to win a slam at only seventeen years of age. the fourth member of this quartet was jim courier - who had trained in the same academy as agassi as a teenager and had generally felt neglected when compared to the star pupil. young agassi was a prodigious talent with unique style and flamboyance that served to grab the public's attention; he was the one who hogged the most headlines and carried the loftiest expectations on his shoulders, anointed the new flag=bearer of american tennis... and he was soon coming under increased pressure to finally crack on and win one of these slams. an immensely promising junior, the next big thing in american tennis, the guy who was supposed to rewrite the history books... by 1990, at just twenty years of age, the public was already threatening to lose patience with him

I go to the 1989 French Open and in the third round I face Courier, my schoolmate from the Bollettieri Academy. I'm the chalk, the heavy favorite, but Courier scores the upset, then rubs my nose in it. He pumps his fist, glares at me and Nick. Moreover, in the locker room, he makes sure everyone sees him facing up his running shoes and going for a jog. Message: Beating Andre just didn't provide enough cardio. Later, when Chang wins the tournament, and thanks Jesus Christ for making the ball go over the net, I feel sickened. How could Chang, of all people, have won a slam before me? Again, I skip Wimbledon. I hear another chorus of jeers from the media. Agassi doesn't win the slams he enters, and then he skips the slams that matter most. But it feels like a drop in the ocean. I'm becoming desensitized.

in 1990, agassi competed in two slam finals. the first was on the clay of roland garros, the fetching pink of his kit (see below) drawing plenty of headlines as he (very satisfyingly) beat both courier and chang on the way to the championship match. then, in the final, he lost in straight sets - in large part because he was terrified his precious hairpiece was going to fall off. which is definitely a story that deserves more space than it is being provided here... look, go read his autobiography, it's worth it

the next slam final was on home soil, conducted in the frenetic cauldron of the arthur ashe stadium. this was agassi's coming of age tournament at the slam he most wanted to win. he had scorned wimbledon, dismissive of the stuffy atmosphere and the grass courts and the strict dress code. he simply could not be bothered to travel to australia in order to compete at the australian open. roland garros was perfectly fine - but really, it was the us open in all its boisterous exuberance he wanted to conquer more than anything. and the us open crowd was ready to watch their new great hope win. agassi beat boris becker in four to advance to the final, eagerly awaiting his opponent - either the decorated john mcenroe, or a nineteen year old kid who had previously never gotten past the fourth round of a slam. sampras and agassi had already played when they were kids, with agassi in his autobiography remembering a match back when sampras was nine years old and agassi was ten. they had faced each other for the first time as professionals in 1989 on the italian clay... agassi had previously dismissed sampras while watching him practise, critical with his team of sampras' ruined backhand in particular. in rome, agassi beat sampras easily despite the improvements sampras had made

I beat him, 6-2, 6-1, and as I walk off the court I think to myself that he's got a long and painful slog ahead. I feel bad for the guy. He seems like a good soul. But I don't expect to see him again on the tour, ever.

the following year, in 1990, they play again and sampras wins in three - fittingly on the way to his maiden title. later that season, they meet for the first time in a slam final. now, look, the problem with narrating this rivalry is that the perfect narration already exists. it is agassi's autobiography 'open' and is available at all good bookstores etc etc. here is the most relevant excerpt:

It doesn’t seem possible, but the kid I thought I’d never see again has reconstituted his game. And he’s giving McEnroe the fight of his life. Then I realize he’s not giving McEnroe a fight—McEnroe is giving him a fight, and losing. My opponent tomorrow, incredibly, will be Pete. The camera moves close on Pete’s face, and I see that he has nothing left. Also, the commentators say his heavily taped feet are covered with blisters. Gil makes me drink Gil Water until I’m ready to throw up, and then I go to bed with a smile, thinking about all the fun I’m going to have, running Pete’s ass off. I’ll have him sprinting from side to side, left to right, from San Francisco to Bradenton, until those blisters bleed. I think of my father’s old maxim: Put a blister on his brain. Calm, fit, cocksure, I sleep like a pile of Gil’s dumbbells. In the morning I feel ready to play a ten-setter. I have no hairpiece issues—because I’m not wearing my hairpiece. I’m using a new, low-maintenance camouflaging system that involves a thicker headband and brightly colored highlights. There’s simply no way I can lose to Pete, that hapless kid I watched with sympathy last year, that poor klutz who couldn’t keep the ball in the court. Then a different Pete shows up. A Pete who doesn’t ever miss. We’re playing long points, demanding points, and he’s flawless. He’s reaching everything, hitting everything, bounding back and forth like a gazelle. He’s serving bombs, flying to the net, bringing his game right to me. He’s laying wood to my serve. I’m helpless. I’m angry. I’m telling myself: This is not happening. Yes, this is happening. No, this cannot be happening. Then, instead of thinking how I can win, I begin to think of how I can avoid losing. It’s the same mistake I made against Gómez, with the same result. When it’s all over I tell reporters that Pete gave me a good old-fashioned New York street mugging. An imperfect metaphor. Yes, I was robbed. Yes, something that belonged to me was taken away. But I can’t fill out a police report, and there is no hope of justice, and everyone will blame the victim.

what I can contribute are some high quality screenshots of agassi's mid-match beleaguered frustration at perfect pete who was currently in the process of mugging him

and here's agassi pulling sampras in at the net after losing in straight sets, 4-6 3-6 2-6

Hours later my eyes fly open. I'm in bed at the hotel. It was all a dream. For a splendid half second I believe I must have fallen asleep on that breezy hill where Philly and Nick were laughing about Pete's ruined dream. I dreamed that Pete, of all people, was beating me in the final of a slam. But no. It's real. It happened. I watch the room slowly grow lighter, and my mind and spirit grow palpably darker.

it is a brutal loss for agassi. not only has he once again been denied a slam - but it's happened at the hands of a direct peer, a compatriot, a nineteen year old american who has flown relatively under the radar until now but has snatched away from agassi the title that he felt should have rightfully been his. agassi had already become a frequent target for media storms, most memorably with the infamous 'image is everything' canon marketing campaign that had been widely used to mock him - but now, here was the proof anyone needed that this overhyped, cocky showman wasn't anywhere near as good as he'd been cracked up to be. it didn't help that sampras provided such an obvious contrast to agassi... quiet, more reserved, outwardly humble, less showy and less prone to drama and with a far more clean cut image... really had way more of a sweater boy aesthetic going for him y'know

tennis is a fundamentally conservative sport that is ill at ease with its own conservatism. the soul of the tennis fan secretly longs for a little glamour, a little excitement, something with a little more flair and thrill than the purist should strictly allow. when confronted with excessive emotion, when exposed to the true messiness of competitive fervour, the response of the fan is conflicted. on the one hand, the spectacle is exhilarating, to be celebrated, stimulating in the controversy it causes. but on the other, transgression is something to be repudiated and to be punished. the tennis fan averts their eyes but cannot look away, eager to capture every detail of how the gentleman's sport is being defiled by the newest freak show. the tennis fan begs for players to feel every emotion deeply - then jeers at them for losing their heads. the tennis fan hates sampras for being dull and lacklustre, for winning points as quickly as he can and refusing to provide much in the way of a show. the tennis fan hates agassi for being a loose cannon, for feeling so much and never quite living up to his potential as a result, for being so loud and vocal and obvious in his imperfections. sampras is a robot. agassi is a clown. sampras lacks personality. agassi lacks conviction. it is distasteful how hard agassi finds the life of a tennis player, but sampras finds it far too easy entirely. the fan loves to hate agassi, but sometimes they forget to think about sampras at all

the rivalry and their two respective careers develop from there. agassi has to go through a third slam final defeat, a horrendously painful five set affair against his old enemy jim courier at roland garros that leaves many doubting he will ever get over the line. but at last he secures his first major in 1992 at wimbledon of all places - the slam he had once upon a time had so little respect for he did not even bother to attend. sampras in all his precocity struggled for a while to adjust to a slam champion's life and took until 1993 to add to his own collection... beating agassi once again on the way to snatching agassi's wimbledon crown off him. there's a lot of stuff in those few years I'm going to skim over for the sake of brevity... like the final the two of them played where sampras was really ill right before the start and agassi agreed to a delay, only to be beaten by a revitalised sampras... that 1993 wimbledon match and sampras' nasty habit of catching agassi by surprise... or all their davis cup exploits (the main nation-based event in men's tennis, basically think like the world cup) where they both faltered and won as a team

let's pick up the narrative again in 1995. agassi had won his second slam at the back end of 1994, finally taking the us open title he so craved. and so, at the start of 1995, he made the enlightened choice of going - hey, you know how there's four slams on the tennis calendar? how about showing up to all four of them! yeah, not kidding, 1995 was the very first time agassi made the trip down to australia for the first slam of the year. which is a teensy bit unfortunate, because it turned out he was actually brilliant at that tournament. in 1995, he was the second seed at the tournament (sampras, of course, being the first) and scythed his way through the draw, making the final without dropping a set. sampras, by contrast, was progressing nowhere near as smoothly. his long time coach, tim gullikson, had been suffering from seizures for a few months and was flown home for tests after going through another seizure while practising with sampras. in his next match, sampras faced courier, fighting back from two sets to love down to level the match. then, in the fifth set, he broke down in tears during the changeover and struggled to contain his sobs while playing the next few games. courier asked whether sampras wanted to come back to finish the match the next day... something sampras interpreted as a sarcastic comment, which pissed him off enough to get him to regroup and focus once again. he went on to win the match. this is another part of the story that will not get the attention it deserves in this post, and there's a lot more to be said about how sampras describes the incident in his autobiography - his frustration with the narrative that he had finally shown how he was 'human' after all. it is this incident that is still what the tournament is perhaps remembered the most for. gullikson passed away the following year

and so sampras faced agassi in their second meeting in a slam final, fourth meeting in slams overall. agassi had gone through a major style rebrand since the last time they'd played, at last forgoing the hair he was so closely associated with (aka ditching the finicky hairpiece that had been distracting him in slam finals) and embracing the bald pirate aesthetic

perhaps a little more importantly, agassi won the match in four sets, claiming his first australian open title at the very first time of asking. I was going to check if I had any particularly insightful notes about the match - but mostly it's stuff like pointing out that the first set ends on an agassi double fault and the second one opens on a sampras double fault (#mygoats), plus enlightened commentary like this

we'll leave the sophisticated match analysis for another day

and here they are in their respective autobiographies about the conclusion of that tournament

"a tournament that I seemed destined to win" // "tennis has nothing to do with destiny"

and from there, it was game on. 1995 was basically the year of their rivalry. after the australian open final, they immediately faced off in both indian wells and miami. as sampras describes it, the increased exposure meant the general sports fans had more and more opinions about the pair of them and their rivalry: "we presented enough of a contrast to make people feel passionate about why they preferred one of us to the other". that season also featured an increased marketing push from nike to make this rivalry A Thing while the pair of them spent the year hashing out the number one ranking. we're talking joint marketing campaigns, interviews, all that shebang... once again, I won't be able to do this time period justice here - but at least in passing you do have to mention nike's famous "guerrilla tennis" ad campaign (see here), where they would play on makeshift courts set up in city streets. as sampras put it:

The campaign was brilliant, and it was an enormous success. And it worked because, instead of "Pete or Andre?" or "Pete vs. Andre" driving Nike's promotions, it became Pete and Andre. There was a welcome, counterintuitive feel-good message conveyed in them. The commercials helped further interest in the game and our rivalry. It also caught the true nature of our relationship. We had plenty of differences, but we were friends.

an important thing to remember, right - sampras was generally keen for the agassi rivalry to flourish because it helped him too. it helped combat the perception that he was boring, that he had a dull game too reliant on his serve (especially on the speedy grass of wimbledon, where he increasingly excelled at), that he had too little of a personality to capture the imagination of the masses. it also helped his relationship with nike, who he often didn't see eye-to-eye with - the agassi rivalry brought those guys on side because of how marketable they were as a unit. in his autobiography, sampras points out that players are only ever seen as good as the quality of their opposition, and agassi always had the potential to be sampras' ideal career rivalry. agassi becoming a more consistent, prominent rival was good news for the both of them... but, well, often it was sampras who got the most out of the whole thing

given we're in 1995, at this point I do need to throw in a top three anecdote from agassi's autobiography that just like... nails who both of them are As Guys and what the dynamic between them looked like

if my archrival said in his autobiography that I sounded more robotic than his parrot, I would do something that would get me on national news (more on that later)

so then... it looks like they'll meet in another slam final that year, at wimbledon. as agassi so nicely puts it,

In the semis I face Becker. I've beaten him the last eight times we've played. Pete has already moved on to the final and he's awaiting the winner of Agassi-Becker, which is to say he's awaiting me, because every slam final is beginning to feel like a standing date between me and Pete.

cute

of course agassi goes on to lose that match, after which becker makes some disparaging comments about agassi - prompting some fun drama that does also deserve more space than it will be provided here. the long and the short of it is that agassi vows vengeance and sets of on his "summer of revenge", going on a massive tear on the american hard courts. he defeats sampras in the final of canada, is unbeaten all summer going into the us open... at the us open, his hot streak continues - and he gets the great satisfaction of beating becker in the semis. revenge completed. 26 wins in a row

but of course, there's one more match to go. and it's the one that matters most of them all. it's also the one that agassi loses. "no matter how much you win, if you're not the last one to win, you're a loser. and in the end I always lose, because there is always pete. as always, pete." it's the brutality of tennis, the relentless inescapable cycle that so tormented agassi... there's always another tournament immediately on the horizon - and most weeks, defeat is waiting for you at the end of it. a lot of weeks, it was sampras who was waiting for agassi. after the glorious high of that entire summer, agassi had been brought back down to earth. he would struggle for years to recover

I've always had trouble shaking off hard losses, but this loss to Pete is different. This is the ultimate loss, the ueber-loss, the alpha-omega loss that eclipses all others. Previous losses to Pete, the loss to Courier, the loss to Gómez - they were flesh wounds compared to this, which feels like a spear through the heart. Every day this loss feels new. Every day I tell myself to stop thinking about it, and every day I can't. The only respite is fantasizing about retirement.

this began agassi's unravelling, the downward spiral that would consume the next two years of his life. eventually, he dropped out of the top hundred entirely. it was in 1997 that he infamously failed a drug test and managed to escape punishment plus cover the whole thing up (he had indeed taken crystal meth). he barely played tennis at all during that year. it would take him until 1998 to regroup and recommit to tennis, to decide that he wanted this enough to fight for it anew

in the mean time, let's bring in two encounters between sampras and agassi in fittingly liminal locations - one in a plane and the other in an airport. these brief moments of letting their guards down - of talking to each other as people - that are described in their respective autobiographies... both reckoning with the vast differences between the pair of them. first, there's late 1995, where agassi was already evidently struggling with the mental impact of the us open loss - as well as with the injuries that ruled him out of playing the davis cup. in a gesture sampras appreciated, agassi turned up anyway to support his team. here is sampras's account of a flight on agassi's private jet to los angeles:

I sensed on that flight that Andre was struggling. He quizzed me very closely on how I lived my life, and seemed dumbfounded to learn that I had moved to Tampa solely for my tennis game. I told him that I missed my family, and Southern California, but considered it a necessary trade-off. He admitted that he wouldn’t give up living in Vegas, or his lifestyle, in order to be the best player in the world. The contrast was clear and striking, although Andre made that point at a time when he was feeling a little disillusioned by the game. Through all of that, though, I always believed something that others, particularly people who didn’t know Andre very well, doubted. I always thought that Andre was a sincere guy. When we spent time together out of the limelight, he was always honest and frank—and I respected him for that. Davis Cup was always a good time when Andre was around. He was, at times, downright exuberant. He frequently let his guard down in Cup practices, screaming and yelling about any little thing, just for the fun of it. He seemed to get a kick out of stirring things up, creating drama, taking little things and making a big deal out of them. He was emotional, and he liked to whip up others’ emotions. At other times, we sat around in the locker room and talked about this or that, mostly about sports, and it was very comfortable. Andre was inquisitive. He liked to compare notes on players and he was eager to see how others perceived the same things he was thinking about. Andre had a great grasp of strategy; it was a great asset, given the type of game he played.

and then, two whole years later in 1997 - here's agassi about a meeting they had in the airport:

Walking up to the gate, who should I see but Pete. As always, Pete. He looks as if he's done nothing for the last month but practise, and when he wasn't practising, he was lying on a cot in a bare cell, thinking about beating me. He's rested, focused, wholly undistracted. I've always thought the differences between Pete and me were overblown by sportswriters. It seemed too convenient, too important for fans, and Nike, and the game, that Pete and I be polar opposites, the Yankees and Red Sox of tennis. The game's best server versus its best returner. The diffident Californian versus the brash Las Vegan. It all seemed like horseshit. Or, to use Pete's favorite word, nonsense. But at this moment, making small talk at the gate, the gap between us appears genuinely, frighteningly wide, like the gap between good and bad. I've often told Brad that tennis plays too big a part in Pete's life, and not a big enough part in mine, but Pete seems to have the proportions about right. Tennis is his job, and he does it with brio and dedication, while all my talk of maintaining a life outside tennis seems like just that - talk. Just a pretty way of rationalizing all my distractions. For the first time since I've known him - including the times he's beaten my brains out - I envy Pete's dullness. I wish I could emulate his spectacular lack of inspiration, and his peculiar lack of need for inspiration.

even these short excerpts should hopefully give you a sense of how differently they approached the process of writing their autobiographies, as always in itself very revealing. agassi is honest to a fault, forthcoming in his confessions even when he's not necessarily doing himself any favours - unsurprisingly, the crystal meth story caused quite a stir at a time, given he had successfully evaded a ban and had managed to cover the whole thing up. he does not spare sampras in his account, willing to compare him to a parrot or marvel at his lack of need for inspiration. it is a sincerity that does not necessarily feel malicious, but certainly is brutal. agassi's narrative is harsh, self-effacing, darkly comedic - he stresses how he really didn't take sampras seriously until sampras was beating his ass, talks up how sampras' commitment to tennis was clearly the far better approach than his own... and yet there is inevitably something pretty insulting in how baffled agassi is by sampras' simplicity, by the pure, unencumbered drive and discipline that made sampras such an excellent competitor. by how boring sampras could be

by contrast, sampras was far more reserved in his autobiography, providing a straightforward account of his career that really did mostly just focus on the tennis of it all - hardly a bad book, but one that lacks agassi's flair and skill for narrativisation. there is a rebellion of sorts in sampras' restraint... he's painfully aware of how he was perceived, rankles at it repeatedly in his autobiography, and you hardly need to read between the lines too much to get a sense of how much it really bothered him... but if there's one thing to understand about the guy, it's sampras' incredible stubbornness. if the people wanted a show, he was even less likely to provide him one. if they wanted drama and gossip from his autobiography, he would provide them with no such thing. and it's fair to say that sampras did not exactly appreciate agassi's approach

we'll circle back to sampras' reaction to the autobiography in a minute, but I wanted to bring in these quotes now... because sampras does capture something quite key to their rivalry in a way that is a touch more honest than he was willing to be in his autobiography. agassi hated tennis and always wavered in his commitment towards it, trying to fill his life with all sorts of other pleasures, travelling around with his entourage to make the tour life somehow bearable to him. it never came easily to him - and at several junctures, most notably after his long slide down the rankings set off by the 1995 us open sampras loss existential crisis, he had to make the conscious decision to try and give his all to the sport. sampras was always willing to make those sacrifices, whenever they were demanded of him. he was willing to move wherever he needed to, willing to eat and breathe and sleep tennis if that is what he needed to do to win. professional sports doesn't always reward the biggest personalities - in fact, as said sports become ever more demanding and the level rises further and further, if anything athletes cannot afford much of a life outside of their chosen domain. no time to grow up properly, to experience much of what the world has to offer, to figure out who they are outside of the sport... hey, no time even to start up too much drama where it isn't necessary - because are there many things more inefficient than media shit storms? in some ways, sampras represented the future of the sport. agassi, in all his impetuous talent, could in a sense be considered a relic of the past

that is not to say, of course, that agassi was not massively successful in his own right. and somehow he did what felt ever so implausible - he successfully completed his comeback, making it all the way back to the top of the sport when he had been so summarily written off. in 1998, he made an unprecedented jump from 110 to 6 in the rankings - and in 1999, he came from two sets to love down to win the roland garros title, completing his career slam by winning all four majors. this is one achievement that sampras could not match, having never progressed past the semifinals of the slow clay of roland garros that has tripped up many an american. (oddly enough, that's actually the slam all three of sampras' american peers had won, but courier was a natural surface specialist and chang was a grinder so it just kinda happened that way.) agassi reached the wimbledon final only to lose to sampras once again, then won the us open. and eventually he managed to snap sampras' record streak of six consecutive year end number ones (a rare record that has actually remained intact), capping off his most successful season to date

let's skip ahead once again, and talk a little more about what was possibly the most revered match the pair of them ever played. once again, it was the us open to host their showdown,taking place in the quarterfinals at what was now very much in the twilight stages of their careers. this time let's get some of sampras' thinking about that particular match and how it fit within the narrative of their rivalry:

It was fitting that Andre was the last man standing when it came to my rivalries. Andre was toughest during that great summer of 1995, and then again near the very end of our careers, culminating with the night-session quarterfinal at the 2001 Open—a match that was the crowning moment of our rivalry and, to me, our toughest and greatest battle. Volumes have been written about my rivalry with Andre, and from every perspective. In my heart of hearts, I know he was the guy who brought out the best in me. He had ups and downs, which accounts for why we didn’t have more confrontations, especially in big finals. But Andre was still the gold standard among my rivals. Nobody else popped up as frequently, over as long a period of time, to test and push me to the max. For most of our careers, we really couldn’t have been more different—in personality, game, even the clothing we wore. Our lifestyles were radically different. Andre always seemed bent on asserting his individuality and independence, while I tried to submerge my individuality and accepted the loss of some personal freedoms. Andre was Joe Frazier to my Muhammad Ali, although the personalities were kind of flipped around because Andre was the showman and I was the craftsman. Wherever you lived, we were your neighbors: I was the nice, quiet kid next door on one side, and Andre was the rebellious teenager on the other. Yet as Jekyll and Hyde as we were, and as much as people liked to emphasize the very real differences between us, there were powerful, deep similarities between us, too. The Gift we both had shaped our actions and lives, posing challenges as well as offering opportunities. First-generation Americans (Andre’s father, Mike, was from Iran), we were both champions but outsiders who crashed a sport dominated for most of its history by white Anglo-Saxon Protestants. That never bothered me, because the American Dream fulfilled its promise to my family, a few times over. Because we had both been prodigies, we grew up in the public eye, under scrutiny. It was easy to stereotype us—Andre was the brash, flamboyant showman, I was the reticent, old-school, boring guy. Who was hurt more by the stereotyping? Who knows? What I am sure about, though, is that we were tough, albeit in different ways and with different goals. When we reached the top, we cast frequent, nervous glances across the divide between us. Andre and I always made it our business as individuals to know what the other guy was doing.

as I am aware this post is already far too long, I won't dissect this passage too much. in any case, sampras addresses the sense of absence caused by agassi's inconsistencies elsewhere in his autobiography too... agassi made sampras better, always, agassi pushed sampras to new heights, agassi provided sampras with a legitimacy and also excitement the public would not have otherwise afforded him. but agassi wasn't always there. and the rivalry was ultimately far less kind to him

"in my heart of hearts, I know he was the guy who brought out the best in me" // "he says I bring out the best in him, but I think he's brought out the worst in me"

that entire section is one of the stronger parts of sampras' autobiography, which I'm also resisting the temptation to include in full. I will, however, include just a little more of how sampras describes how the pair of them match up:

Andre had to think a little more about the nuances of the game than I did. Against top guys, he needed to set things up for himself in order to play his most effective game. At his best, Andre was the consummate puppet master, jerking his opponents all over the court. Thankfully for me, he was also a little bit at the mercy of what his opponents could do. My game, by contrast, was much more about what I was going to do, and whether or not the other guy could stop it. The big question for me on every surface but clay was, Okay, what do I do to break the guy? That was because I always felt confident that I could hold my serve. Andre didn’t have that luxury—at least not to the same extent that I did. [...] The overarching theme, in my eyes, was that if I could make it a test of athleticism and movement, things would break my way. I had the fast-twitch-muscle advantage. By contrast, Andre had amazing eye-hand coordination; he was unrivaled as a ball striker. The idea was always the same: avoid becoming the puppet on the end of Andre’s string. Avoid getting into those rallies in which I found myself trying to get the ball to Andre’s backhand, while he’s cracking forehands and jerking me around the court.

sampras does go into more detail about how the actual tactics between them played out, but in a brave act of restraint I shall not discuss any of that. it does, however, tap into one of the central tensions of tennis - namely the curse of the counterpuncher. sampras acted, agassi reacted. in a way, it always felt like the match was on sampras' racquet, win or lose. sampras had the weapons. agassi had the wits. sampras could blast his way past agassi, if he could just summon up all his discipline to execute to perfection. agassi had to try to cling onto his nerves while going all he could to trip sampras up. the curse of the counterpuncher - the helplessness of being beholden to another player's whims... especially brutal when facing someone with sampras' painfully excellent weapons. and sampras had one more great weapon at his disposal: his mentality, that unflappable presence that graced him one of the most ridiculously good tiebreak records you'll ever find. from the moment sampras snatched that us open title away from him way back in 1990, agassi was always going to have to look over his shoulder, eternally wary of the threat posed by sampras. because perfect pete at his very best might have just been a little too much for andre the prodigy to handle

the 2001 us open quarterfinal has gone down as one of the very finest matches in that tournament's history. agassi had come into the tournament the number two seed - sampras, suffering from a slump in form, had been seeded only tenth. it played out over four sets, all of them tiebreaks, with not a single break of serve. the home crowd was riveted for the entire contest and enthusiastically celebrating both of their heroes for the spectacle they provided. you already know who won

so then, both of them slowly but surely reaching the end of their careers, their slam counts tailing off as injuries and frailty scupper them... sampras' decline was earlier and sharper, finding himself struggling after securing his fourth consecutive wimbledon title in 2000. agassi was generally ranked higher during that time and had won the australian open title in both 2000 and 2001. after wimbledon, sampras went for two full years without winning a slam, and retirement looked increasingly imminent. but in the end, they managed to put on one last show - and where else but in the same place where they had contested their first slam final in 1990.

At 4 P.M. on a calm and bright Sunday afternoon in early September, I looked across the net and saw the same person who had been there twelve years earlier, almost to the day, when I played my first Grand Slam final: Andre Agassi. The Andre I saw in 2002 was someone very different from the kid I had seen in 1990, and it went well beyond the fact that the multicolored mullet had become a shiny bald head, and that lime green costume was now a fairly plain, conservative shorts-and-shirt tennis kit. I saw a seasoned, confident, multiple Grand Slam champion who was in full command of his game—a game that could hurt me. This was no stranger. This was my career rival. This was the yin to my yang. Over time and through rivalry, though, our identities blurred a little and parts of our personalities had jumped from one to the other, like sparks sometimes do across two wires. We had a lot of shared history now. The sharp edges had been worn down and the contrasts muted. We were elder statesmen, celebrated champions, co-guests of honor at the Big Moment one more time. In many ways we were just a couple of nearly worn-out tennis players looking for one last shot at glory.

as always, pete

agassi was the favourite in that match. but that's the funny thing about tennis - all this stuff in between, all these matches, talk of form and confidence and all of it, you'll find it has a nasty tendency to not matter at all. because you already know how this story goes. tennis, in particular on the men's side, writes its narratives in advance and then begs us to act surprised when everything unfolds as expected. every once in a blue moon, you will have something different - an australian open 1995, where everything had been disturbed just enough to throw up a different outcome. but otherwise, there is no amount of form or confidence in the world that can change the inevitable. it doesn't matter that agassi was supposed to be the prodigy who would claim his glorious first slam in 1990. it doesn't matter that agassi had been on a 26 match winning streak in 1995 and had bested sampras just a few weeks before. it doesn't matter that agassi was facing a washed up version of sampras in 2002 who had lost touch with his 'gift' and had been staring down the barrel of retirement for the better part of two years. when they faced each other on that stage, at the most important tournament of them all to agassi, they both reverted to type. agassi got a slow start, felt the match slip away from him, as sampras blasted through him - and only two sets in managed to mount any sort of resistance. of course, it was not enough

it turned out to be sampras' last professional match. he announced his retirement a year later. the last time sampras ever played, and it was denying agassi on one final occasion

one more thing before I wrap up this post - a coda of sorts, because the story just wouldn't be complete without it. because there's one more rather infamous story from agassi's autobiography. here's agassi talking about the lead up to that us open 2002 final, lying in bed the night before that match and remembering a moment from a few years prior:

Sipping Gil’s magic water before bed, I tell myself that this time will be different. Pete hasn’t won a slam in more than two years. He’s nearing the end. I’m just starting over. I climb under the covers and remember a time in Palm Springs, several years ago. Brad and I were eating at an Italian restaurant, Mama Gina’s, and we saw Pete eating with friends on the other side of the dining room. He stopped by and said hello on his way out. Good luck tomorrow. You too. Then we watched him through the restaurant window, waiting for his car. We said nothing, each of us thinking of the difference he’d made in our lives. As Pete drove away I asked Brad how much he thought Pete tipped the valet. Brad hooted. Five bucks, tops. No way, I said. The guy’s got millions. He’s earned forty mil in prize money alone. He’s got to be good for at least a ten spot. Bet? Bet. We ate fast and rushed outside. Listen, I told the valet, give us the absolute truth: How much did Mr. Sampras tip you? The kid looked at his feet. He didn’t want to tell. He was weighing, wondering if he was on a hidden-camera show. We told the kid we had a bet riding on this, so we absolutely were insisting he tell us. Finally he whispered: You really want to know? Shoot. He gave me a dollar. Brad put a hand on his heart. But that’s not all, the kid said. He gave me a dollar—and he told me to be sure to give it to whichever kid actually brought his car around. We could not be more different, Pete and I, and as I fall asleep the night before perhaps our final final, I vow that the world will see our differences tomorrow.

and just to quickly add this, about the end of that final:

Now he's serving for the match, and when Pete serves for a match, he's a coldblooded killer. Everything happens very fast. Ace. Blur. Backhand volley, no way to reach it. Applause. Handshake at the net. Pete gives me a friendly smile, a pat on the back, but the expression on his face is unmistakable. I've seen it before. Here's a buck, kid. Bring my car around.

this is probably the most infamous part of the autobiography, excluding anything related to crystal meth. I buried the lede somewhat when I was talking about sampras' reaction to the autobiography - more than comparing him to a parrot or calling him uninspired, this was the bit that really got traction. it's just such a brutal story in an understated way... this is the kind of impression that sticks with you, the slander that stands the test of time. perfect pete the multi millionaire is a bad tipper

which brings us at last to indian wells 2010. an exhibition event the pair of them participated in at one of the most prestigious tournaments in the united states (second only to the us open), done for a good cause to raise money for charity. it was a doubles match they participated in, both partnering up with top players who were reasonably prominent at the time - all in order to put on a show for the crowd. for a good cause. over seven years after the conclusion of their rivalry, more than enough time for any old wounds to heal. what followed is quite possibly the only worthwhile moment indian wells has ever provided us... I hereby present to you a clip of two guys who are definitely over it, engaging in some entirely friendly banter, for a good cause, as a playful continuation of their respectful rivalry, which is fine because they're over it, so it's all fine and it's for a good cause. here you go:

youtube

now, honestly I would just recommend you watch this four minute video, because I think it's quite tricky to quite get across in words how the vibes gradually get more rancid. it's the little details that often get left out when this historic event is recounted that really make it - agassi's "you always have to go get serious, huh pete" is a personal favourite of mine. but to give a summary of the main points... sampras imitates agassi's famous pigeon-toed walk (the result of being born with spondylolisthesis, a back condition where one of your vertebra slips forward). then, agassi mockingly and repeatedly alludes to sampras being a poor tipper. which sampras follows up by straight up attempting to murder agassi

well, not quite, but he does use that lovely powerful serve of his to hit right at agassi - rather than diagonally across the court, where your service really should be going. also the serve is supposed to go like, into the box that's just on the other side of the net. whereas sampras' serve was travelling at a trajectory that took it oddly close to agassi's head

what's delightful to me about this clip is how they're both trying to play it off as a joke, even though you can tell that they're both visibly losing their tempers. look at the faces of two men just having a laff

shout out to the commentator for saying the rivalry between the retired players seemed to be stronger than the one between the current players. which - well, yes, that is true! this is what a proper rivalry looks like

they both got plenty of criticism for this episode - and agassi ended up both publicly saying he'd been out of line and messaged sampras to ask if he could apologise in person. and they did move on from the controversy, playing another exhibition the following year with no incident. here's what agassi said then:

isn't this great. isn't every word of this just great. like man he just gets it. isn't this great

still, beyond just being a fun bit of drama, it is a revealing moment between the pair of them. sampras is right that they both usually tried to avoid too much controversy, inclined to keep things civil and resist too much mudslinging in the press. sampras, after all, just wasn't really the type - and agassi had other things to worry about, never in a real position of strength in that rivalry. and yet, sometimes the mask slips just a little. the two of them often didn't understand each other, didn't really know each other at all, but they managed to get under each other's skin nevertheless. sampras was everything agassi couldn't be - and the reverse was true too. agassi couldn't find it in himself to copy sampras' pure dedication towards the sport, whereas sampras could never match agassi's flair and charisma. at times, there's a whiff of contempt in how they judge each other, cataloguing the other's shortcomings and incapable of imagining what it must be like to walk in the other's shoes. agassi could not dedicate himself completely towards tennis. sampras was uninspired. agassi was flighty. sampras was simple. a touch of envy, a little more contempt, and a whole lot of bafflement

for all that he won eight grand slams, in many ways agassi's story is one of failure. this is how much of his autobiography is framed - around hating tennis, around needing to be brilliant at it, over having to cope with loss after loss after loss. so much of tennis is about trying to find ways to process failure. it's all about failing... in matches, where even the winning player typically wins a little more than 50% of all points played and generally will lose quite a few games in the process. in tournaments, where all but one player will emerge from each event the loser. and even if that one has been won, the next tournament and potential loss is generally right around the corner. agassi hated that life, and yet he still took a couple years longer than sampras to walk away from it. and for agassi, the inevitability of that ultimate, final, inevitable loss was tied ever so closely to the existence of pete sampras. once more with feeling: "no matter how much you win, if you're not the last one to win, you're a loser. and in the end I always lose, because there is always pete. as always, pete." it's a bittersweet narrative - for all of agassi's success, for all that everything did turn out well for him in the end... it's always there, inescapably so, that lingering sense of inevitability. that helplessness. maybe the hand of destiny, after all. agassi was never able to overturn that narrative, no triumphant changing of the script or final triumph or any of it... and that'll hurt, and it'll always be a little bit sad. but he learned to live with it - and eventually found his own happy ending. there's something to that, isn't there?

#anon let me tell you. my entire life I have waited for someone to say the words 'agassi/sampras please tell us more' to me #if one person reads this and Gets It afterwards then honestly my work with this blog is done #i always have a million more things to say about them like this was a proper exercise in restraint #all this motorcycling bullshit was really a psyop for this specific agenda. now just get me talking about my belgians #//#batsplat responds

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tacticaldiary · 1 year ago

Text

To Hate A Heart That Beats For You

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Jealousy, Tension

"Say please." It's all teeth and a sharp teasing voice with her. Ghost stills at the command, annoying flickering its agitated flames.

Every fucking thing about her rubbed him the wrong way, made him so...out of control? Agitated? All of the above? She always somehow manages to make him concede. She did it back then and she's doing it right now with his breath ghosting over her lips, hot and heavy.

Masterlist

There are not many things that shake the foundation of control Ghost keeps a tight grip on.

Throw him in the middle of a gunfight, a brawl or a series of rough drills and he's normally the first one to make it out. All his life he's been the kind of person to keep to himself, to deal with problems as efficiently and effectively as possible.

She was the exception.

Standing in front of him after two years, with the same pride lining her shoulders, the defiance in her eyes.

"You remember the Lieutenant, don't you?" Laswell stands between them, an unknowing mediator.

"We're...acquainted." She says dryly, locking eyes with Ghost himself. Her voice is the same as well. Everything about her is a shock to his system so part of him is glad that she's the one who spoke up.

Two years. Two years since they'd been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant together and gone their separate ways. He'd joined the 141 and she had taken fancy to some tactical intel gathering specialist group.

Laswell pauses, looking up from her file at the clear snap of tension in the air.

"No need for introductions then." She shuts the folder, giving them both her full attention. "She'll be joining your team for today, talking to your recruits about the intel gathering division she's a part of. Sergeant Gaz is already doing vice versa. I expect you to play nice for today, I don't want any... incidents, copy?"

"Copy." She says, watching Ghost nod.

And then suddenly they're alone, with only the thump of distant footsteps from the recruits to punctuate the silence hanging between them.

"As friendly as ever I see."

"I'm as friendly as you are pleasant." Ghost responds.

"I'm plenty pleasant. It's you that's never been able to get that stick out of your ass."

"Careful." He narrows his eyes, pushing himself off the wall. "We know how the last time you picked a fight ended."

"That's cute." She smiles. "I seem to remember you getting put on desk duty for two weeks."

"After I choked you out on the training mat."

"I'm sure you've been dreaming of doing that again." Her self-satisfied smile widens when he doesn't respond for a moment, taken aback. With a shake of her head, she directs her gaze back onto the field where the soldiers are slowly finishing their last lap. "I feel sorry for them. Having to see your ugly mug in the morning with that mask can't make their breakfast settle very well."

An arm brushes against hers, and before he pushes past her, Ghost leans down right next to her ear. "You were yelling quite the opposite the last time you saw it." He whispers with a slightly thicker accent than usual, letting the satisfaction of seeing that smug expression falter for a moment settle deep into him as he knocks past her roughly.

They had a...messy history to say the least.

Two forces as headstrong as them were bound to butt heads. Her earliest memory is arguing with him. The both of them have always had a competitive streak, whether that be on the mat or running timed drills.

That tension had to blow up in their faces sometime, and that time just happened to be the day after they both got promoted...

Her eyes follow his form as he orders the recruits over, telling them to split into small groups, informing them of why she was there.

Red creeps up her neck her mind flashes back to that night. They had been taunting each other in passing all day, silently arguing who the better candidate had been, which one of them deserved it more. It doesn't sound like Ghost at all but they'd always had something more fiery than what they were like by themselves.

One too many jabs had led to a small tussle, which had led to a moment of weakness and...well, now's not the time to remember the frantic touches and calloused hands. The first time she'd seen his maskless...

He certainly had been anything but ugly and that makes her so fucking mad.

Shaking it off, she composes herself and decides to take the reigns.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It's been an hour of standing around, supervising the talk, and Ghost is ready to tear into something. Or someone, more preferably.

His jaw clenches, watching how she floats from soldier to soldier, group to group. The effect on them is instantaneous with the way they straighten up, surprised at being addressed before melting into smiles that are a tad bit too wide and eager, and eyes that wander farther than appropriate.

Her hand lingers on some of their shoulders, elbows nudge and compliments flow out of her mouth.

Maybe he's finally going insane?

A few times their eyes meet, and neither of them look away, too stubborn to be the first to fold. Every time, the corner of her mouth quirks up when she turns to keep doing what she was.

A sick, ugly feeling rears its head inside him at the sight.

What gave those pathetic recruits the right to look at her that way? And why are his fingers twitching for the knives strapped along the expanse of his body?

Why the fuck does he care?

"...Ghost? You with us?" She raises an eyebrow when his glare snaps to her instead. She's wandered over to him, leaving the recruits to talk amongst themselves for a break.

"What?" He says coldly.

"Someone piss in your breakfast?" God, he'd throttle her first, then move on to those other men-

"Same person who pissed in yours." The retort gets him a raise of an eyebrow but nothing more.

"Sure. I'm done here, so you can go back to terrorising the poor kids." It's a receptive group, more than a couple of them had shown interest in what she was saying. A few of the more promising ones she had taken a personal note of, intending to pass their names forward to Laswell to consider.

"Until we have the misfortune of meeting again." She says, and maybe it's a throwaway act of trying to remain civil in such a public setting, but she extends a hand towards him.

He eyes it for a second, eyes narrowing.

"If you're afraid I'll throw you over my shoulder like last time-"

She grins smugly when he takes her hands, squeezing it through the brief handshake a little harder than necessary.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This is a terrible idea.

Somehow, because whoever's up there seems to have a personal vendetta against him, Ghost finds himself standing in front of her office door, a file on all the recruit's scores and past experiences Laswell had ordered him to pass onto her clutched loosely in his arm.

It was 11 at night, but the army notoriously never slept.

Because he's not a fucking animal, he knocks, waiting to hear her call out an okay before pushing the door open.

It's as sparsely decorated as his own office. There's not much to keep the value of sentiment in with lives as busy as theirs, but the things that catch his focus are the small picture frames set on her desk.

After her, of course.

Changed into something more casual, his eyes trace the dips and curves that are so utterly her.

"Did you need something?" She asks, the friendly edge to her voice flittering away when she sees it's him.

"No, but you do." Moving closer, he tosses the file onto her desk. Staring at it for a moment, she clicks her tongue whilst flipping through the pages.

"I'd like to snag a couple of these for my team in a few years." She mutters to herself, pausing over a few of the reports. Ghost's hands twitch with the urge to curl them inwards when he remembers the events of this morning.

She's studying him, he realises. With a quiet, titled expression, she's taking him in head to toe and it's the first time in a while Ghost has felt so stripped to the core.

"Got something to say?" His voice comes out rougher than intended. Making no move to speak, the corner of her lips quirk up slightly. Huffing quietly, she spins her chair back around to face her desk, picking up the pen she'd discarded when he first walked through her doors.

It's quiet. The scratching of pen on paper. Something about it jarrs him, ignites a twinge of irritation because why the hell is she so quiet now after he's asked her a question? Normally she sparsely shuts up enough for his heart to cool down from its quickened pace.

He'd say later on that he weighed the decision he made, that he really thought it through but frankly, the only thing on his mind is her, and it's cloudy with enough anger and an emotion he's not willing to admit right now that he acts without thinking. Completely on instinct.

Ghost spins the chair around so he's facing her and looking down. "Ignoring me now?" He says into the sharp silence. "Never thought I'd see the day you shut your mouth."

"Is that the way you talk to someone you spent the night with?" She answers. He grunts in surprise at her hand curling around the back of his beck, yanking him further down until they're face to face. "That's why you're still here, aren't you? Still bothered from this morning?" The smug look on her face only makes Ghost more irritated because she's right. He could have easily left after dropping the file off. He had no apparent reason to stay. "Couldn't stand the thought of sharing something you've already had a bite out of?"

It dawns on him with her tone right there and then.

She'd been doing it on purpose. The glances to him as she made her rounds, the way she lingered over the recruits only when she could feel his eyes burning into her from behind.

Ghost is met with that teasing, smug grin that fixes him into place a little too effectively because when she hooks an ankle around the bend of his knee and pulls, he goes down onto his knees without much of a fight. He's tall enough so they're actually face to face now, eyes level.

"Finally caught on?" The smooth lilt to has his stomach twisting and his mind reeling, though he stays as composed on the outside as always. Waiting. Watching. Urging himself to keep his hands to himself.

"Fuckin' hell." He breathes out. "You little minx."

"Affirmative."

Heated eyes take in the being that is her. Sharp smiles, dirty tactics, and that attitude that made him want to do things that would get him discharged if he were to ever voice them.

All of her was a deadly beautiful.

It checks out that Ghost is lover of deadly.

Calloused, rough hands, trails up her legs and settle around her hips. His eyes flicker down to her mouth and for a moment, neither of them speak. Then she leans closer and for a moment Ghost braces himself.

"Say please." It's all teeth and a sharp teasing voice with her. Ghost stills at the command, annoying flickering its agitated flames.

Every fucking thing about her rubbed him the wrong way, made him so...out of control? Agitated? All of the above?

He swallows past the bitter taste in his throat. Weighs his options.

"Please."

He mumbles it because she always somehow manages to make him concede. She did it back then and she's doing it right now with his breath ghosting over her lips, hot and heavy.

A smirk curves her mouth. "What was that?" She whispers. "Couldn't quite hear you..." Her hands move from his collar up to the edge of his balaclava, toying with the edge. Ghost makes no move to stop her when she slowly, so achingly slowly, starts rolling the fabric up.

"I fuckin' hate you." He growls, actions and words at war.

"You're showing me a lot of love for someone who claims so." Is all she says, movements halting as the fabric bunches over his nose, laying bare the bottom half of his face. "Would you let anyone touch you like this, hmm?" Skimming her fingers over the scar on his chin, his own hands tighten around her hips at the gentle feeling. She ends up cupping his cheeks. "Because I'll tell you this, Simon-"

It's a physical reaction, the way she says his name. He straightens up instinctively and takes in a muted, sharp inhale. She leans closer, and if he only tilted his head up a fraction they'd brush lips.

"It's been a long time since I've let anyone touch me like you are."

It snaps something in him, maybe his patience or perhaps his resolve.

One hand slides up to the back of her neck, the other one yanks her out of her chair and to the floor. He crashes their mouths together in a kiss that brings an instant sort of relief. It's not sweet by any means, all clicking teeth and pulling at each other. Hands roaming and breaths shared.

Neither of them knows who pulls away first, but eventually they're left to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together.

Then she laughs, a light, soft breeze. "You should've seen yourself back then. Looked like you wanted to flay those kids alive." She snickers.

"I did." There's no use denying it, not when this, when she, makes something curl up and settle down deep within him. As much as she riles him up, she also brings him a kind of peace that he can't describe.

Goddamn, he's so far gone. Maybe he should book in a psych eval soon...

"Never thought I'd see the day you were like this." She hums, "Wish I'd taken a video of it."

"It won't happen again, love." He shakes his head, trying and failing to push down the slightest bit of amusement. "That you can count on."

"Wanna bet?" She says cheekily, scratching at the nape of his neck with her nails gently. It makes a shiver run down his spine, the curl of her lips widens as she feels it.

"You drive me fuckin' insane, you know that?" He mumbles against her lips.

"You love it." Is all she manages to get out before he pulls her in again.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(27/07/2023)

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copperbadge · 10 months ago

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More on mindfulness and meditation

I feel like perhaps I came across as anti-meditation in that last post I did on it, and there were some folks who were a bit vocal about not liking meditation in the notes, but the notes also had some great and interesting discussion of what can count as mindfulness that isn't traditional meditation and what some alternatives might be, so I wanted to do a follow-up. Especially since I don't think I'm going to get to respond to everyone individually.

The post was not meant to be anti-meditation, but to express frustration with the way meditation frequently is, or rather fails to be, taught. I can understand why people would struggle with "mindfulness" (vastly overused term) and meditation, so I'm not here to argue with or shame anyone, and I really appreciate the alternative suggestions. But because mindfulness can mean so many things, and people can meditate for many different reasons, I wanted to talk a little about why I'm being asked to do it.

It's easy to lose track of why one might try meditation for mental health, because the cause and effect are so temporally dislocated from each other. I try to keep in mind that my specific goal is emotional regulation deriving from increased present-moment attention. Some of the stuff that was suggested is great for a goal other than this, like puzzle games that allow people to empty their racing minds or activity that brings someone back into their body when dissociating -- both extremely laudable functions! -- but that's not why I'm here. Meditation is meant, for me, to be a maintenance medication, not a rescue inhaler.

There is science that suggest that mindfulness practice, under a specific definition of the term, can help to manage emotional dysregulation, ameliorate Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and reduce depression and anxiety. I discuss the science in a slideshow here but essentially this specific form trains the attention into the present moment, which improves executive function -- and as we know, emotional regulation is a facet of executive function, so this leads to better emotional regulation.

There is not a lot of science on it yet so there is room here for yoursamplesizeissmall.jpg, but it's all we've got so I'm running with it. There is one foundational practice and three practices that build on it which effected this change in subjects of the study:

Breathing Meditation doesn't really confer any benefit the others don't, but the others all employ it as a basic practice. We know this can calm the parasympathetic nervous system, although to be honest I have not found that to be the case personally. As soon as I stop the deep breathing I'm right back where I was, likely because my issue is ruminational, not situational. But everything else wants you to breathe first, so I still have to do it.

Body Scan focuses attention on the body and as others have pointed out is good for people prone to dissociation. As I said in the other post, I live here; paying extra attention to my body isn't something I need. I was asked to try it anyway as part of a practice in keeping an open mind about stuff I think is dumb, and clearly I do need practice in that. Still, it's likely I'll be able to let this one go pretty soon.

Loving-Kindness asks you to think positively about others, expanding compassion from a single point outward to the world. I've encountered this before in reading Pema Chodron; I don't do it as meditation, but I do try to practice it in life because I am not naturally a patient or compassionate person, and that has been helpful in the sense that it keeps me from getting punched in the face a bunch. For me there's no real "train the attention to be in the present" aspect on account of that, however.

Observing-Thought is where you just sit with your thoughts, let them arise, sometimes label them in some way, and let them go. I was most interested in this purely because it's the only one I hadn't already encountered. I haven't found it useful so far, but I don't have enough data about it to be definitive, and if it is training executive function I would expect that to take time.

Now, I know that all four of these have science backing them, so I know that we're not just dealing in new-age woo here. The problem is functional, not theoretical. The issue overall is not "meditation is boring" -> "find a way to make it interesting", although I do appreciate that it may be an issue for others and I like that people were offering solutions. The issue for me is that the boredom derives from the fact that the meditation isn't being taught. There's no progressional learning -- there's no step-progress-reward-step-progress-reward like with most difficult skills.

Any task is boring if you aren't deriving any reward from it or you are being expected to execute it without skills or training, and in this case I'm facing down both. Long silences from a meditation leader are fine if you're there to engage with a practice you already have familiarity with, but if you're trying to learn, they are the opposite of helpful, and they are actively punishing to someone with ADHD.

I don't want to be entertained (I mean, generally I do, but in this case I don't expect it). What I want is a pedagogical approach that steps up to the practice rather than beginning with it, so that I know I'm doing it right, I experience rewards along the way similar to how I currently do learning Italian, and I have more confidence that what seems dull and fruitless actually will produce results.

Uh, so yeah thanks for coming to my TEDtalk; the fact that a practice that's especially hard for people with ADHD helps with almost every problem ADHD presents really sucks, and I wish we approached teaching meditation as if it were something you actually did have to learn rather than something you're supposed to Do Until You Get It. In the meantime I guess bumping the speed on the recording isn't the worst thing I could be doing.

#sam has adhd #not yet fired from therapy #mindfulness

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j-jared · 2 months ago

Note

hello!!! i just stumbled across your resurgence au (i think that's the name lol) and it looks super cool!!!! :OOO may i ask what is maki's whole deal,,,i love her a lot :3

It's Maki time!

So in Resurgence, like the rest of the V3 cast, Maki is saved from the simulation by Future Foundation. I've touched on this in a few older posts, but their recovery took place in a hastily thrown together field base/hospital in a city that's still pretty deep in despair. It was a matter of not being able to get transport in for everyone right away - they had a set date for the helicopters to come for them all.

By unfortunate coincidence (coincidence, huh) - the day the helicopters come, the hospital is bombed by a Despair mob. They weren't so happy with their show being cancelled by stupid teenagers (THH was streamed to the world, then despair audiences kinda gutted and reverse engineered the Neo World Program after the Remnants were restored to their og personalities, I'd say it's probably because of the brainwashed Future Foundation members that it got out to the world - so yeah "Danganronpa" is a "TV" show in that regard, but its not how the V3 ending explains it)

Maki was in a separate wing from most of the others when the bombs went off, and her escape route ended up on the side where the mob was gathered (a lot of the others got around the mob by going out other exits) - So Maki has to fight her way to safety, and unfortunately, she misses out on the helicopter evacuation.

Now, Maki can take care of herself. She might not be Ultimate Apocalypse Survivor, but she has the training to patch wounds, adapt to harsh conditions, and defend herself. So she's doing about as fine as one can in a city that's basically an active war zone.

Then Kaede shows up.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I chose Kaede, I really wanna explore that dynamic but haven't gotten around to it yet - I think their personalities would blend and butt against each other in a situation like this, it's like a hardcore setting for the killing game with no rules. Kaede was with Future Foundation as a field agent, but her squad got separated during an attack (they were probably looking for the missing V3 cast) - Funnily enough Kaito, Tenko, and Shuichi were on that squad so - yikes on missing them.

So now it's Maki and Kaede vs the world!

Until Kaede's radio starts unscrambling itself and picking up Future Foundation communications again - but they can't reply it seems. The signal seems to fade in and out each time they leave this district, maybe they should investigate, right?

... Oh hi Kokichi and Kiibo!

---

That's about as far as I've gotten in the general aspect of Maki's arc! I could go into detail about points up until now, but this post is already getting long on me. There will be bonding, there will be old scores to settle, there will be... forgiveness? Well, it's too early to say. I think the four of them are an interesting squad to shove into the apocalypse together, especially knowing the later game dynamics of Kokichi, Kiibo, and Maki, and me basically having to figure out Kaede and if the blank slate of her not being around for most of V3 is something that helps them all get along or complete ruins the dynamic at moments.

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general-cyno · 1 year ago

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since I've rambled quite a bit on zoro's side of things in some of my zolu posts, I wanted to give luffy a try too! though perhaps overall subtler than zoro's grand gestures throughout the manga, there's no doubt to me that luffy cares for him just as much and his relationship with zoro is one of the most important he has (without intending to downplay others btw), both as individuals and crew, so let's goooo.

(warning: it's going to be long. sorry. also spoilers for the manga, as usual.)

albeit luffy and zoro's journey as a crew starts in the marine base where they met, I've mentioned here before that their childhood experiences, the way they sort of parallel each other's, also play a big role in their personalities and understanding of one another later on. the specifics are different, sure, but both were acquainted with struggle since they were young. zoro had already lost his parents by the time he was 8 and dragon left a baby luffy in garp's care, which... involved some questionable (dangerous) caretaking choices in order to make luffy "stronger". eventually, zoro would become a student in the isshin dojo, interact with koushiro and kozaburo, and start his rivalry/friendship with kuina just like luffy would later meet folks like makino, shanks and his crew whom he'd be inspired by, then dadan, ace and sabo, who'd become his family.

although we don't know yet what luffy's particular dream is, it's one he's had since young and that he mentioned to his brothers. similarly, as a kid, zoro wanted to become the world's greatest swordsman too, which he told kuina about and promised to strive for along with her. still, it's not until they lose sabo and kuina respectively that their dreams are accompanied by the necessity to become stronger for other people's sake. this is a specific sort of grief they share and are motivated by. and in luffy's case, his vow to become stronger is so he can prevent the further loss of those he loves.

(I'll get back to this, because it's important!)

fastforward to years later and we have a luffy that's started his journey to become the pirate king and achieve his dream. the insane thing about zoro's recruitment is that it only took hearing about the guy's name and fearsome reputation to have luffy pester koby about meeting him. I've also mentioned here that "fate" seems to be a recurring theme in OP especially in the latest arcs, and especially where luffy and zoro are concerned, seeing as they not only have a bunch of parallels with each other but also with important figures/characters in OP, some of who share or have shared a close relationship among themselves as well - namely, roger and rayleigh.

heck, luffy and zoro's lives are so intertwined you can even see lil zoro training during the ASL flashback chapters, when dragon mentions the dojo providing the revolutionaries with some food (ch 589). it's kinda incredible tbh. even so, when it comes to zoro... he was first and foremost a choice. regardless of how fate has come into play in the story, it was luffy's decision to actively seek him out and rope him into joining his crew, one he made after realizing zoro wasn't just a good guy but that he also had a cool, crazy dream and a determination to make it come true that was similar to luffy's own.

back then, luffy was already punching others (helmeppo) and getting angry on zoro's behalf, taking bullets for him and leaving himself wide open for zoro to protect during their confrontation with morgan. this is pretty much the beginning of his unwavering trust in zoro's strength and his willingness to step in when luffy needs someone to watch over him in turn. this is what their relationship is based on within? hours? of meeting and it's the foundation of the straw hat crew.

he's praising zoro before he's actually taken morgan down and luffy doesn't even look back to check. the amount of trust luffy's placing on zoro off the bat is bonkers and it's literally just the start.

from shells town onwards - well, in spite of how luffy's considered an anchor by shanks in the first chapters of OP because of his inability to swim, I believe the anchor metaphor is actually kinda perfect to describe zoro and his relationship with luffy, more so from luffy's side, even if he doesn't necessarily say this stuff on the pages.

I may be going on a slightly poetic tangent but it works imo. anchor symbolism is pretty popular and you can find all sorts of articles about it online. I read a few out of curiosity and y'know, the anchor as a nautical symbol has supposedly been regarded as one rooted in feelings such as those of stability and safety. you can probably tell where I'm going with this.

in terms of stability, think of OP's arcs and how many of them zoro's been in alongside luffy. they don't always fight side by side strictly speaking, but zoro is a constant - he's usually there to fight the second strongest threat and sometimes protect or lead the others when luffy's otherwise occupied, or he handles things while luffy gets there/recuperates enough to battle again. for the most part, zoro's also there in a bunch of the crewmate-rescuing arcs and he's even the one to directly liberate brook's shadow in thriller bark. there's only two major instances in which luffy and zoro (+ the crew) get separated for a considerable amount of time, one of them unwillingly and the other by choice: sabaody and zou/whole cake island. ig you could count baratie/arlong park too, but I don't think as much time passed in between one and the other compared to zou/WCI and the reunion in wano.

something that really got me even though it was tinted by a comedic feel, is the fact that bon-chan turned into zoro out of all straw hats back at impel down when luffy was trying to rescue ace and how happy he was at the prospect of having zoro there to aid him. no matter how the adaptation differs from the manga, I couldn't help but think of opla luffy's I need you speech too. would he have been as happy to see any other members of the crew? likely so! still, zoro's definitely someone luffy particularly looks forward to having by his side when things get tough.

irl, anchors are generally used to secure a vessel and prevent it from drifting. sounds a little familiar, I'd say.

it's not as though zoro's the only character in OP who's "guided" luffy but there are moments when he does ground his captain in a manner other characters can't at the time, and my favorite part of it is how seriously luffy takes zoro's words/advice whenever it happens. water 7 and enies lobby are perhaps the best examples of this, as it comes up in the context of luffy's fight with usopp and robin's supposed betrayal.

this is a really, really good moment imo. once luffy slows down to consider what zoro's saying, you can see he understands the importance of it. plus, luffy knows zoro's not someone who'd just leave a friend behind (he's fought to bring some of them back at this point, with luffy and the rest of the crew) and if anything, his "so the fact that he left our crew means nothing to you?!" outburst proves he's as upset as all of them about usopp's choice.

that said, you can tell how much luffy values and respect zoro's imput simply by the way he cries his soul out when usopp finally apologizes and asks to come back. luffy wears his heart on his sleeve and adores his friends, doesn't want to lose them ever, so reining all those feelings in to stay true to his position as the captain that zoro has placed his faith and loyalty in? amazing. and consider it from another angle: if he had ignored zoro, luffy would've lost him too. he certainly doesn't want that either or this would've gone differently.

this kinda thing happens also post timeskip, with zoro reminding luffy to get his shit together at punk hazard, bringing up the fact that they can't just ignore the threat kaido poses in zou to have the entire crew going after sanji, or when they're facing kaido and big mom in wano. zoro's someone luffy counts on to keep him steady and afloat, and this part of their relationship is something that was portrayed (again) nicely in the live action. in ep 6, it's zoro who manages to reassure luffy of his position as the captain and that he's done nothing wrong, that their crew isn't falling apart, because if luffy needs him then zoro vows to stand by his side til the very end. (they're insane).

in addition, their core similarities, understanding of each other and luffy's (almost unbelievable) faith/trust in zoro is what allows him to depend on zoro, specifically, when it comes to things like saving smoker in alabasta, not fighting back against bellamy's crew on jaya, or just mentioning the spilled oshiruko as explanation enough for zoro to get why luffy's angry during the onigashima raid, to name a few of examples off the top of my head.

as for the safety aspect of the anchor symbolism... that one speaks for itself I think. I feel like I must mention once more that zoro's not the only character or even the only straw hat to help or protect luffy, but he's fairly insistent and consistent in this aspect compared to others. compiling all the moments in which zoro's stepped in to protect luffy, worried about his well-being or signaled the rest when luffy's truly in danger/has reached his limits would probably break this site's image upload limit lol.

that said, luffy's the same back at zoro just in a bit of a less common manner or in a different way rather - mostly because of his belief in zoro's strength and the lengths he'd go to keep people safe, which includes allies and more so their friends. one could argue depositing that kind of faith in zoro can have its drawbacks (sabaody) or isn't completely fair (like when he goes all, "with you here, how could this happen?!" in skypiea) BUT. my opinion is that trusting zoro any less than that would likely hurt his pride more. so when luffy says stuff like this,

it's not about having unrealistic expectations wrt zoro but more about fully trusting in the man who tearfully swore to him that he'd become the greatest swordsman and never lose again. the one who trusts luffy just as much in turn, called him captain and pirate king first. luffy's seen zoro pull through some impossible situations, so it'd be more unfair to doubt him this way if you ask me.

this is also why I mentioned luffy's childhood vow. if you ever wonder "how important is zoro to luffy?" compare this,

to this:

luffy's past is revealed hundreds of chapters after skypiea. yet in hindsight, it adds so many layers to his relationship with zoro. for someone like luffy, who promised to become strong so that the people he loves wouldn't have to leave him, who would even die as long as it means he won't lose a member of his crew, the fact that he can relax this much when he gets separated from his friends because zoro's with them is... a lot, man. when you remember luffy's lost people close to him or had them leave him (for very understandable reasons, often out of everyone's control), zoro being one of the most stable presences in his life since they met - someone who will help him fight to get their friends back or stay behind to watch over them when they can't all go together, that for zoro to leave he'd have to be pried by force from his side unless they both agree to it for the sake of their journey and crewmates, is likely to be a very comforting fact to luffy. luffy, who's afraid of/hates being alone more than getting hurt.

he doesn't voice it out but allowing zoro to protect him and the people they both care for is giant sign of love and unbeatable trust, where luffy's concerned. although he doesn't know about it, zoro's sacrifice in thriller bark demonstrated why luffy does this without hesitation too. however, it's worth noting that luffy does worry for zoro's own safety whenever he's there to actually witness him being in danger and he knows zoro well enough to tell when said danger is real. it happens during the mihawk duel, when kizaru almost kills zoro in sabaody then as kuma sends him away, for example. he gets angry, desperate and teary in all of these instances. luffy cares so much about him.

lastly yet just as relevant... is that luffy likes zoro, beyond metaphors and all zoro might represent/stand for in the crew. luffy thinks he's cool, that he'll certainly achieve his dream, enjoys teasing and bullying him harmlessly, offered to share his food with him to convince zoro into accompanying them in thriller bark, tried to give an injured zoro an entire barrel of alcohol because luffy knows he loves booze and thought it'd make him feel better, and is generally someone luffy's happy to be with.

I bring up the wano hug a lot but honestly it doesn't get clearer than this. I've seen people try to downplay this moment but hey, context. people that luffy's hugged this way include 1) sabo, the brother luffy believed had been dead for years, 2) hancock who helped him try and rescue ace and 3) jimbei who's helped luffy during some of the most dire moments he's gone through, like impel down, marineford and WCI. for luffy to straight up hug zoro with just as much happiness, eagerness and enthusiasm in a relatively danger-free situation... he likes zoro, there's no better way to put it.

it's not that they can't butt heads sometimes either, but never seriously enough to damage their relationship. as a more recent example, luffy's shown he can put his stubbornness and recklessness aside when zoro's right even if he doesn't like it (ch 1060, about vivi's current situation). and as long as he's there, luffy won't let people interfere in zoro's fights, much less when it involves zoro's dream - like when he held johnny and yosaku back from stepping into zoro's duel with mihawk, even though luffy himself was worried about zoro.

so yeah, zoro might get to be crazier about luffy more often and explicitly but imo, it's an entirely reciprocal thing.

if you got this far, thanks so much for reading!

#zolu #tp #long post #like. real long #I love these two so much!!!!#and i don't think their relationship is as one sided as some seem to believe it is. luffy's just as crazy abt zoro #regardless of how you prefer to view the nature of their relationship #this is for layne also🙏🏼hope it's a worthwhile read!#jay reads op

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radiance1 · 1 year ago

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Hey ya'll back on my bullshit again!

So this time if this idea doesn't get outta control it'll mostly be focusing on Danny and Bruce!!!

Danny is gonna be younger here by the by, maybe like 10.

So after being accidently hit by on of his parents inventions, big ol' Danny-o sometimes gets these dreams about some random ass old man. He doesn't know who he is, nor why this is happening, but he mostly just goes along with it.

Most of the time they just spend the time there in silence, not really doing anything and just existing around each other until one day Danny let slip that he fights people on the regular.

Most of them being other people in a dream, who he assumes are ghosts. He manages to hold his own decently well, even without powers of his own.

Plus, he can even take his parents stuff into the dreams!

Sure he sometimes loses, but that's really not the point here.

but the man does not like it.

Danny doesn't get it, considering he can kick ass, take names, and it is just a dream after all.

So imagine his surprise when that old man, who he's known for a while and dare he say can perhaps even be called a friend, takes a fighting stance and tells him to come at him.

He asked if the guy was sure, the guy nodded, he told him not to regret anything when he gets his ass handed to him, the guy said nothing and motioned for him to attack and Danny went for it.

Not even a few moments later and he's insanely embarrassed he got his ass handed to him. Like, it was over before he even began and Danny didn't even know what happened.

So of course, being who he is and knowing this guy for a while. He very obviously asks the guy to teach him his ways and he must be insanely charming because the guy didn't even hesitate to say yes!

It was like, a few more dreams in that he finally asked for the guy's name. He said his name was Bruce, and that he was traveling the world and learning every martial art currently still existing.

Danny instantly grew to like him more after that. Sure, his mom's a blackbelt, and sure she taught him to kick major ass before she got dragged into her inventions, and sure she doesn't train with him or spend time with him anymore because of that-

Wait he's rambling.

Anyways.

So the guy asked him if he was taught martial arts, since he does have a pretty solid foundation. Danny said yes and then talked about his mom, because anytime to gush about how much of a badass she is, is one he's gonna take.

Somewhere along that rant it turned into a rant about his parents, and then their inventions, and then it turned into his sister and then it turned towards the ghosts he fights and how he beats them up really well and how his parents inventions really helps and then it turned towards that one time he got hit by one of his parents inventions which is why all these people appear in these dreams-

Bruce motions for him to stop, and then asks what Danny means by being hit by one of his parents inventions.

Danny stops, then gets real sheepish about it. Because really, it was kinda technically his fault that he got hit since he did sneak into his parents lab while they were out and accidently messed with something unfinished.

Bruce asked how Danny got into their lab. To which Danny said pretty easily since he already cracked the passcode for their 'secret' lab, and yea sure they didn't know that and sure he shouldn't really be in there in the first place without them knowing, but it's not like they know where he is most of the time.

Then Danny gets frustrated and say that they changed the passcode, so now he has to crack it again and he can't ask Jazz for help since she's too busy with school, but it's not like he really needs her help because he's plenty smart on his own but it would be nice-

Bruce doesn't say anything while Danny takes the conversation to an entirely different place than it started. His face only growing dark, as he quietly listened to Danny now going on about how to not fight a living jelly because they are vicious.

Which is another cause for concern, frankly.

Bruce has noticed that Danny has a tendency to just. Ramble about random things for hours if he isn't stopped, and is extremely surprised when Bruce actually listened whenever he stopped to take a breath.

He does wonder who exactly this boy's parents are however.

So then this keeps going on for a while, with Danny and Bruce either training martial arts or just talking (more so Danny rambling on about his day or anything really and Bruce just listening and commenting here or there.) and existing.

Then when Danny turned 11 he tells Bruce about how his parents got this huuuuuge mysterious donation that let them buy parts to make this super-mega-awesome invention of theirs that's supposed to be some kind of portal or something.

Which Danny is a bit jealous over because his parents are spending less and less time out of their lab, but that's besides the point.

Sometimes he also shows Bruce blueprints on things his parents worked on and then left unfinished because they lost interest in it or just don't see how they can work it out.

And Bruce, being the super-mega-awesome-nice friend he is, looked them over and then tweaked them a bit here and there and then they just worked!

(Also yes, he did indeed crack his parents code again and stole some of their parts to make said inventions but hey what they don't know won't hurt them and plus he can take it into his dreams.)

Some very, very rare times, Danny showed Bruce some of his own blueprints that he tried to make. Because if he showed an interest in inventions then maybe, just, maybe he'll be able to spend more time with his parents.

But anyways.

He showed them to Bruce, and they kinda just sat there figuring out how to make Danny's dreams become a reality. Then over time Danny just, sorta stopped showing his parents blueprints and more of his own.

They still trained of course, but it was really cool to just, tell someone his ideas and for them to actually listen.

And sure, he could tell his mom and dad but they have the attention span of a goldfish when it isn't anything ghost related (no hate indented but it's just facts.) and Jazz is really busy with her own life too and also a bit... smothery.

And he didn't really have any other friends since no one really wants to take to the child of the resident ghost hunters. There is those two friends he knows online, but he doesn't wanna ruin anything by just showing blueprints.

So telling Bruce was something he took readily too after he reacted well the first time he showed him his first blueprint. Hell, it didn't even need to be a blueprint for a weapon, it could be anything and Bruce would still find a way to help him.

Eventually it shifted from Blueprints of weapons and household items, to ones of spaceships and stuff meant to mimic the stars. Then conversation shifted from everyday stuff to space and it's many wonders and how cool it is.

Danny talked, and Bruce listened.

Bruce trained him, and so Danny fought.

Danny trusted an adult for once in his life, and Bruce gave him every reason to trust him.

Bruce helped Danny with his ideas, and in turn Danny gave him a distraction from most of the pain and worry of what's happening in Gotham until he can go back and help.

Danny found a place he can just let go in, and Bruce allowed him that space.

Which made it oh so terrible whenever he lost everything.

Well, not everything. But it sure felt that way to Danny.

It was when he turned 12, telling his friends online about how his parents completed this craaaaazy new invention that apparently should open a portal to, somewhere he isn't sure.

One of his friends told him he should totally go check it out and tell them if it works or not. It didn't really take much convincing since he also wanted to check it out too.

The pain was overwhelming.

Feeling his body be defiled by electricity and then slowly disintegrate while he could still feel everything and then not feeling anything from his limbs after and yet still being alive and then suddenly feeling again after he couldn't was so overwhelming and the pain was still there and-

Nobody was in the house at the time, his parents out for the day and Jazz hanging out with her friends. So no one could hear him scream.

Then there he was, in the air trying to remember how to breathe only to realize he wasn't breathing-

Then he dropped to the ground and found he could breathe as air forced itself into his lungs until he started feeling light headed and passed out.

Later when woke up he told his friends that it never worked, and stayed away from it for awhile.

Later when he was asleep he didn't see Bruce anywhere, nor any of those ghosts he fights at all.

He didn't think much of it, maybe Bruce just wasn't sleeping.

He thought the same when a few days past by and still no signs of Bruce.

He distracted himself with fighting the ghosts from his dreams that came from his parents portal that he forces back to the zone.

A single day multiplied as it turned to a week, and then that week turned into weeks and then a month and then that month turned into months-

-And he hasn't seen Bruce in so long that he just doesn't get why he couldn't find him. He searched his dreams, not seeing hide nor hair of Bruce and spent his days awake fighting ghosts since his parents homeschool him even though they spend most of their time in their lab and it's him who homeschools himself and sometimes he has to run from his parents because they also attack and hunt him-

But it doesn't matter.

He kept searching for Bruce until he couldn't. He kept searching past when he couldn't.

Sometimes he couldn't help those few thoughts that creep into his brain whenever he stares up at the ceiling and can't sleep.

That maybe Bruce finally got tired of him and that he doesn't care about him anymore and stopped wishing to meet him and abandoned him for another child who isn't like him and can actually be normal and isn't a freak who can't do anything right.

Sometimes Danny lets himself stew in those thoughts.

Danny doesn't like thinking about them that much.

Bruce will be back. He just has to wait. Friends wait for their friends and besides he already has two other friends and yea he can't meet up with them in person but still.

It was when he encountered this one ghost while going past the boundaries of his own dream in search of his Friend that he was told that Bruce wasn't ever going to come to his dream, that he can't come back to his dream anymore.

Now, Danny is smart. Maybe not as smart as his parents or Jazz, but he has something in his brain and he knows that what this ghost is saying is probably true and that he should just accept but-

He just can't.

He doesn't want to.

Bruce couldn't have abandoned him. He's probably still looking for him right now in his own dream and Danny would be such a bad friend if he didn't continue looking.

But then he was told that Bruce wasn't looking for him, because this Bruce person never existed in the first place.

Danny didn't want to believe it. He couldn't.

Bruce wasn't a figment of his imagination.

He just couldn't be.

Bruce was his friend. He's his friend and he was real.

So obviously this ghost is lying.

Until he found out that he wasn't because this ghost knows the dreams of every person on the planet and the Bruce that he knows was never one of them and Danny.

Danny couldn't take that.

This ghost was lying. he just had to be. Bruce is his friend and he's real and he's been with him for so long and he couldn't help him if he wasn't real and everything they've done together was real.

Bruce was real.

Bruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was realBruce was real

He woke up.

He didn't move. Didn't do anything. He just stared up at the ceiling of his room while light shined from beyond his curtains and he should be getting up but he just can't and then it got dark and little stars and planets and blackholes and supernova's played across his ceiling and it was the first thing he and Bruce made together and-

He started crying. He couldn't even sob. He just laid there, watching his pride and joy dance across the ceiling of his room for minutes and then hours.

When the first ray of sunrise tried to peek throw his window was when he finally managed to drag himself out of bed. He took the invention and one of his parent's bat, went to the back of the house and hit it again and again until he felt better.

He didn't feel better.

He did the same to everything else he and Bruce made.

Nothing ever made him feel better.

So instead, he threw himself into fighting all the ghosts that came through the portal. Every fight marked victory, and victory meant injuries because that's just how things worked.

Victories used to give him joy. Because he could go back to Bruce and tell him everything about it and get praised for it.

Now he can't.

He can't tell his parents. He can't tell his sister. He can't tell anyone.

Nobody cares about him anymore, and that's just sometime he has to accept now.

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #decided to leave this on a sour note I guess #because idk #If this makes you hurt then yey I have succeeded!#Anyways #bruce wayne #before he became Batman and stuff #Danny going through it #Hasn't even met Vlad yet Dafuq #Been gone for so long and the first thing I do is put Danny through the wringer #lol #Anyways have this ig #Danny ain't ghost king here sine he hasn't gotten that far and Vlad ain't outta the hospital yet #Actually Vlad just kinda fucks out and does his own thing after he's out #Oh also Danny Sam and Tucker don't know each other physically #mostly just online friends #Reason being #Uh #I'm just gonna ssay that they all live in different cities and that Sam and Tucker's parents don't want to move to Amity because apparently #everyone there is crazy for ghosts and something #I dunno if you got a better reason say it #or #sum i un really care that much #anyways bye

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sleeplesssmoll · 11 months ago

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Reverse 1999 Analysis: Why do people follow Vertin?

There is a common theme among arcanists in the Foundation, Manus Vindictae, and the Timekeeper's department: desperation.

Note: You'll see snippets from my other posts and Asks in here since I used them as the outline. If you have deja vu, its me not you.

Before looking at Vertin, we should take a step back and consider the world of Reverse 1999 as whole. There is a long history of humans associating arcanum with demons, evil, and witches. Humans are the majority in Reverse1999 and consider arcanists dangerous due to their unpredictability and powers. The discrimination against arcanists precedes the Storm, however as Manus Vindictae makes the Storm public, arcanists realize they have yet another enemy in a world that doesn’t want them.

With that established, we can look at each faction.

Both Manus and the Foundation use fear and hysteria to herd arcanists like sheep. The Foundation weaponizes humanity’s paranoia against arcanists while Manus utilizes the Storm for their agenda. Both factions also steal the agency and freedom of their followers.

The Foundation seeks out children because it's easier to train and indoctrinate them to die as martyrs for mankind. They provide basic necessities but they strip their martyrs of their identities and cultural backgrounds. Conformity is a way to instill control. Diversity introduces too many factors and inspires ideas. The Foundation uses lies and corruption to hide the abuse they put arcanists through in the name of humanity but they also provide “shelter”. To choose the Foundation is to choose to be a dog on a leash (unless you're human), but at least you'll be safe from the Storm and you’ll have a roof over your head. They also capture “rogue” arcanists like Regulus if they deem them dangerous.

While the Foundation parades as an important and noble cause for the peace of mankind, Manus Vindictae plays the role of “savior” for suffering arcanists. However, revenge and violence are at their core. You can even see this in their name.

Vindictae: ceremonial act claiming as free one contending wrongly enslaved; vengeance

While players usually see these extremists as evil mustache-twirling villains, it's important to look at the role they play in the bigger story. In Nouvelles et Textes pour rien we can see an example of propaganda where they airdrop resources and pamphlets near the Foundation. This is a common tactic used in real life by rebel/fringe groups. If they only caused destruction, no one would join the cause. Their acts of "kindness" are part of a bigger scheme to recruit people to their cause by playing the part of the hero. “You don’t bite the hand that feeds you," encapsulates this mindset. They must bring people to their side to raise an army and grow support for their war against humanity. They will provide the desperate with food and shelter. In return, the arcanists must fight in the name of revenge. Then they brainwash them to take away their agency. However the fear of the Storm and the discrimination against arcanists make them one of the few viable options for arcanists seeking shelter from a world that despises them.

Finally, we can look at Vertin. Why do people follow her?

Many of the arcanists Vertin’s recruits are cornered and don’t have many options to begin with.

Regulus recognized the fact the Foundation would chase her down no matter how much she runs, which isn’t the freedom she wants. Jessica is scared of isolation and rejection from the outside world. Joshua is a troublemaker who doesn’t conform and suffers consequences. These arcanists already have a motive/reason to follow her. Another thing to consider is what would happen if they did not? They would be stuck in their current situations for who knows how long. Vertin gave them a way out.

Another important tidbit is Vertin’s approach. In the most simple terms, Vertin listens to people. Unlike the other factions, Vertin hears people’s concerns and addresses them directly. She isn’t herding them with lies or manipulating them with fear, she finds the source of their troubles. She does not make false claims and outright admits she will do what is in her power.

Examples: She wanted to understand Schneieder’s anger and reason for obeying Forget-Me-Not even while under fire. She appealed to Regulus’s love of freedom and appeased Jessica’s fear of rejection by the world. She recognized Druvis’s grief and tried to show her a glimmer of hope.

It’s important to recognize each character’s decision and situation instead of giving all the credit to Vertin. She should be receiving credit for her empathy and understanding of the situation, but not the final decision the arcanist made.

Unlike Manus and the Foundation, she genuinely wants to save people like the other factions claim to do. She’s proven it from her scheme with Regulus after Sonetto appeared in the Suitcase and when she tried to fulfill people’s wishes in Tender is the Night. In comparison, you had the corrupt Foundation taking bribes in Chicago and Forget-Me-Not blowing up people’s heads. Also, Her allies witnessed her and Schneider sacrifice themselves in order to slow Druvis down so the others could escape. Sotheby, Druvis, Sonetto, and their men all witnessed this sacrifice. If we look back in the story, we can see Vertin's selfless acts are done in the presence of others, meaning they know more than just talk.

Vertin is a girl, not an institution. She still depends on the Foundation. She was an insignificant piece of a larger machine where her only job was to record the end of eras. However, she earned very powerful allies because she cared about their wellbeing. Suddenly, the Foundation gave a damn. They were unsettled by her little army.

Vertin is only as strong as the people behind her and her crew took that risk. They chose to stay with her and fight for her because she fought for them too. Vertin was trying to keep them under her protection instead of letting the Foundation have their way, which is the conversation she had with Madam Z.

Later, Constatine ordered to have her held hostage in a coma and her legs bruised for good measure to hinder Vertin's efforts. Luckily she had Madam Z and Sonetto to pick up her baton.

Vertin is the hero in the player's eyes but in the larger picture, she’s a girl who dared to care too much in an unforgiving world. This is why I believe the crew needs more credit because they are not only fighting for their freedom, they want to enjoy it with the person who gave it to them. Dare say, they have their own motives and compassion. They made these informed decisions on their own so it's not fair to attribute everything to Vertin being a charismatic cutie pie (but she totally is and I get how it's easy to overlook their contributions since we see most of the story through Vertin’s eyes).

#reverse 1999 #vertin #analysis #vertin is my beloved #but i dont want her to overshadow her crew #they are just as important #since at the end of the day they make the call

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fluffywing-e-tarot · 1 month ago

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Explain the Timeline

So my Hero academia. You know where 2 century ago Quirks Emerged and quickly became a dominant trait in human society. And I started thinking. How long did each holder of one for all hold onto the Quirk.

I started doing some calculations and we were short.

Like half a century Short. About 50 years unaccounted for.

Explain your calculations.

Let's gather what we know in approximately the order it's revealed in.

A baby of light was born 200 years ago

One for All is Yagi Toshinori's (All Might) Quirk there are Seven people before him that have held it.

Midoriya Izuku is the Ninth.

It has Stockpiled so much energy that one's body must be trained to hold it.

Yagi Toshinori has been an active hero in Japan for over 15 years (middle school midoriya) as The All Might's Japan debut was already Old News when Izuku was rewatching it.

Yuui Academia (UA ) is Toshinori's highschool. Also worked in American.

Yagi Toshinori master died in combat.

All for one is as old as the dawn of Quirks (aka 200)

Yoichi All for One's brother is that age. Thus the QUIRK is that age

Yagi Toshinori has been Number one almost his whole Japan career. He is close to 50 Years old

Shinomori Hikage died of old age at 40 he received it when he was 22. Cultivating it for 18 years. Having it for the longest time. Before All Might

All other users died before then.

Shimura Nana met yagi Toshinori while he was in Middle School.

Yoichi was rescued by Kudo and Bruce from a Vault.

Yoichi died by All for one's hand while fleeing with Kudo and Bruce.

Kudo was Targeted with the belief that Kudo Killed Yoichi.

Now we have some information let's do some math. There is some Head canon in here.

Let's say Yoichi died when he was 35

Kudo received noticing a small power holding onto it for close to 10 years as he's a wanted man.

Kudo and Bruce experimented with OFA during the time. Thus the time frame where he then Dies fighting AFO. The Hot potato has been passed.

Bruce figures he is probably also wanted so giving him 10 years is Generous

He finds and teaches Hikage about the Quirk before passing it and facing AFO.

Hikage held onto it for 18 years. He started to rapidly age gifting the Quirk to Banjo.

Banjo becomes or is a Hero he can hold his own so 15 years picking up the wet cat that was En training and giving the quirk to him before cracking the foundation that was AFO's power.

En holds onto it for 10 years as AFO knows the holder. Hero society has a foundation and is gaining traction.

Nana is selected. gaining a husband and kid while holding OFA . She meets Toshinori(11–15) Training him for the Quirk before her death. About 10 years

Toshinori has it for almost 40 years

Now if you add that all together

35+10+10+18+15+10+10+ 40 =143

That's me being generous and on the reasonable.

So they are either as saying we are in the second century of Quirks coming to being. Or I'm underestimated.

But I figured that I would inform you of what I think is an accurate estimate of how long each holder before Izuku would need to hold OFA for everything to be true

Yoichi is 56 when he dies.

Kudo holds OFA for 16 years

Bruce holds OFA for 16 years

Hikage hold OFA for 18 years

Banjo holds OFA for 16 years

En hold OFA for 16 years

Nana holds OFA for 16 years

Toshinori holds OFA for 46 years

Voila 200 years.

Yeah it's inaccurate with how the quirk works in the latter years. Another way would be if All for one used a youth quirk on Yoichi not giving him it. But using it on Yoichi. He's obsessed with keeping Yoichi so he could be anywhere between the 35 to 106 years old. It really shows you how much we know about Yoichi and All for One's relationship. And the beginning of the era of Quirks.

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gigiodogremio · 3 months ago

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𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚈𝚂 - 𝘎𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘪

Barcelona training was in full swing. It was a hot day, sweat was running down the players' foreheads, but the atmosphere was light and relaxed. Pedri and Gavi, as always, trained together, side by side, enjoying every second they had to be close, even if no one knew how much they meant to each other.

Since 2022, when they started dating, they have kept their relationship a secret, hidden from everyone — from colleagues, fans, the media, the whole world. Almost two years of a love kept under lock and key, filled with furtive glances and discreet touches in the locker room, but they felt they were reaching the limit of hiding it so much.

The night before, Pedri, in a moment of play and affection, covered Gavi's neck with kisses, kisses that ended up leaving purple and red marks. Gavi hadn't realized the extent of what this would do until he looked in the mirror in the morning and saw the stains. He wanted to kill Pedri, who just laughed, amused, knowing that his companion would be irritated by that. “It’s not funny, Pedri!”, Gavi complained, but it was too late to argue.

Before going to training, Gavi looked for the makeup base he kept hidden in his desk drawer, something he rarely used but would be essential today. With great care, he covered the marks, checking that the result was convincing enough for no one to notice. He took a deep breath and went to training, trying to maintain his composure.

Training went as usual, until, at the end, Gavi headed to the showers along with the rest of the players. He was so focused on the conversation with Balde that he completely forgot about hickeys. The hot water relaxed his muscles, and he allowed himself a few moments of distraction, letting the remains of the base be washed away by the strong spray.

When he got out of the shower, wearing only a towel, he felt Ferran Torres' eyes on him. "What's wrong, Ferran?" asked Gavi, not understanding why his friend was smiling like that.

Ferran pointed to Gavi's neck and laughed. "Gavi, what's that on your neck, man? Someone's been having a lot of fun, huh?" Ferran teased, drawing the attention of all the players around.

Gavi froze for a second. He felt his face burn with embarrassment when he realized that the foundation had come off in the shower, revealing all the hickeys that Pedri had left the night before. "Ah, no..." he murmured, covering his neck with his hand, already knowing that it would be impossible to hide it.

Laughter began to echo in the locker room. "So, our little Gavi isn't that innocent!", Koundé joked, approaching with a mischievous smile. “And we thought you were the baby of the team…”

Pedri, who was at the back of the locker room, watched the scene from afar, trying to hide a smile. He knew Gavi would be irritated, but seeing his boyfriend being so "exposed" amused him in an inexplicable way. However, he also felt a pang of pride, knowing that the marks on Gavi were his work.

Gavi glanced at Pedri from the corner of his eye, noticing the smile contained on his face. He knew Pedri was loving it. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile back. Deep down, despite all the shame, he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest, a comfort in knowing that Pedri was there, with him.

“Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” Gavi huffed, trying to sound irritated, but the lightness in his tone gave him away.

Ferran continued the provocation, "Come on, Gavi, tell us who is the lucky one, or the lucky one... Let's not judge", he winked, laughing.

Before Gavi could respond, Pedri joined the conversation, approaching the two with a wide smile. "Leave Gavi alone, guys. Maybe he's just taking better care of himself than we thought..."

Gavi felt his heart accelerate when he saw Pedri approaching. As much as they wanted so much to keep the secret, at that moment, he almost wanted to admit everything, tell everyone. But for now, he was content to see the sparkle in Pedri's eyes and know that, although secret, what they had was real.

“Only you, Pedri, to try to save me...” Gavi whispered, trying to contain a smile.

"always, mi amor" Pedri whispered.

#gadri #love #fc barça #fanfic #pablo gavi #pedri gonzalez #lgbtqia #gay #gay fanfiction

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katy-133 · 6 months ago

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Spy Backstory Theory (Team Fortress 2)

(Image source: Valvearchive dot com/archive)

This is something I've been thinking about for a while so I wanted to write about it.

To start, I need to set up some points (with supporting evidence) as a foundation to build upon before getting to the theory, so that we're all on the same page.

Point 1: Spy genuinely loves Scout's Mom

In the TF2 comics ("Unhappy Returns"), Spy changes his mind (about leaving the situation) upon hearing Scout say that his mom will be upset:

There's a whole panel dedicated to a close up of Spy taking a deep breath like, "Urgh, I'm gonna have to do it now, aren't I?"

Spy visits Scout's Mom in the Second Annual Saxxy Awards Valve animation:

One of Spy's revolvers has her depicted as a pin-up model etched into the side of the barrel, which you can see clearer in weapon's the texture file:

I also want to take a moment to note that this weapon is named "the Ambassador" in the game. An ambassador is a diplomat sent by a country as its official representative to a foreign country. So this is associating Spy with the idea of, "a person sent from another country" in relation to Scout's Mom. Stick a pin in that for now.

(Image source: Sniper Vs Spy Update, Day 6)

In Meet the Spy, the enemy Spy reveals a series of photos showing Spy and Scout's Mom together:

Conclusion: Spy has a reputation of being a "lady killer" ("and mankiller," according to his bio on the official TF2 website) and liking his romances "in groups of six" (in-game line). But this love for Scout's Mom is not fake, nor short-lived, and is an emotional bond that is mutual, not a one-time fling.

"For he is the Spy - globetrotting rogue, lady killer (metaphorically) and mankiller (for real)." - Spy's Bio, Team Fortress 2 Website

Point 2: Spy wanted to be a good father to Scout

I think Spy would have known about Scout's Mom's previous 7 sons (Scout canonically has 7 older brothers according to his bio on TF2's website, and we can infer that they're Scout's half-brothers and are not biologically-related to Spy), as he would have had the means obtaining this information (or being given it) before he even met her. So we can assume that he was knowingly romancing a woman who had 7 sons already. The amount of children she had did not scare nor deter Spy away.

"The youngest of eight boys from the south side of Boston, the Scout learned early how to problem solve with his fists. With seven older brothers on his side [...]" - Scout's Bio, Team Fortress 2 Website

The plot of Valve's short film, Expiration Date is Spy helping Scout train for asking Miss Puling out on a date because it's Scout's dying wish. All the mercs believe that they each have 3 days left to live, and this is what Spy dedicates his last hours to.

Spy is seen comforting a child in the Smissmass comic (A Smissmas Story):

He instructed the child to stab the child kidnapper with an icicle (against Miss Pauling's wishes, who is on the phone), which is messed up, but ultimately saves the kid.

Out of all the mercs, Spy is the one who takes the time to listen to the kid's feelings and trying to comfort him.

Point 3: Spy knows how to be responsible

Spy is characterised as being the merc who does the big speeches that boost the morale of his teammates. Examples include his speech in Expiration Date and his speech in Spy's Rally (a cut alternate Meet the Spy monologue).

This characterises Spy as a leader who can look out for others on him team. Not the same as acting as someone's father, but we can gather that Spy can handle responsibility and isn't afraid of it.

Deduction: Spy wanted to be Scout's father and the husband of Scout's Mom. What stopped him?

In the TF2 comics ("The Naked and the Dead"), Spy tells Scout that he ran away, which implies the reason was from fear.

Spy: "I was young then, and I ran from the explosion."

What was the source of this fear? If not fear of being a husband, if not fear of being a father, if not fear of facing responsibility...

It was fear of his family being attacked.

My theory: Spy worked as an operative agent and Scout's Mom was his cover story

Before joining RED/BLU, Spy worked as an operative in an MI6 style organisation in intelligence and espionage, similar to James Bond (whom Spy often is linked to in the game's Spy Achievements and some of Spy's in-game lines, which reference Bond).

"They should call you whiners Dr. NOOOOO!" -Spy attacking when Ubercharged by Medic

As a cover story for one of his future missions, Spy was assigned Scout's Mom as a woman he should marry to help himself blend in, similar to a sleeper agent (a spy who maintains a normal civilian life until they are "activated" by their agency to come out of hiding as an asset). She's a single mom (assumedly--Scout doesn't mention her previous marriages) from Boston, America and Spy would be seen as someone from another country (due to his lack of a Boston accent and his place of birth being France, according to his website bio), so enemies trying to tail Spy may be thrown off by a cover story ("Well, he's probably staying longer in America because he's in love with this woman. He's not a spy").

"Country of Origin: France" - Spy's Bio, Team Fortress 2 Website

Spy met Scout's Mom and ended up actually falling in love with her, which was not according to plan, and would have been considered a major flaw on Spy's part by his organisation.

This is comparable to the phenomenon where actors who play love interests towards each other in a fictional work end up falling in love with each other in real life during production (this has been documented in film productions like Willow and Crocodile Dundee). Your behaviour towards a person can affect your emotions towards them, even if it begins as an act. You "become the mask" in a sense.

This is apparently an issue with actual sleeper agents, as they're meant to not communicate to their superiors (as they've "gone to sleep") for long amounts of time (such as decades) and therefor have difficulty remaining motivated and loyal to their superiors and not forming attachments.

So the plan was for Spy to be in a fake relationship with this woman, and remain emotionally separated from her, but it turns out that Spy was so bad at doing this that he still loves her to this day and continues visiting her long after leaving his career.

Before Scout was born, Spy ended up in a romantic relationship with Scout's Mom, with the intention of marrying her and becoming a father.

Through his work in the past, Spy had gained many powerful enemies. Possibly his own organisation was also not happy with him wanting to settle down as a family man and wanted him liquidated (killed off) rather than leave him alone with the amount of information in his head that he would have gathered from his work (as he could either use that info against them, or their enemies could try to get that info from Spy).

Side note, because I wanna talk about 60s shows I like: This is comparable to the plot premise of the iconic opening for 1967's The Prisoner (note: TF2 is set in 1968), which is considered to be a spiritual sequel to 1960's Danger Man (as both star Patrick McGoohan and share plot elements). The opening of The Prisoner shows a secret service agent resigning from his job (against his superior's wishes), rushing to his home to pack his things, but then being kidnapped by someone either working for or against his organisation, as we see his records getting X-ed out but an automated filing system marked "Resigned." This is basically what TF2 Spy was trying to avoid, but worrying about his future wife and kids.

Danger Man is about a secret service agent, and is likely another source of inspiration for TF2's Spy (though I could not find evidence of TF2 directly referencing Danger Man/The Prisoner). Danger Man's association with Spy appears to be a fandom thing than official. You know that one song a bunch of TF2 fan edits reference or use for Spy-focused frag edits? "Secret Agent Man"? That song is used for the opening of Danger Man.

(Hey look, Jerma985 made one!)

(Okay, end of side note)

Spy's enemies and his own organisation found out about the relationship. Look at these photos. They have these odd black closeup edges (similar to a "thumb on the lens" effect), like it was taken by a hidden camera. They're taken from a distance, giving them a feeling that the cameraperson was hidden and not seen by the subjects (Spy and Scout's Mom).

After Scout's Mother became pregnant with Scout, Spy realised that he had a target on his back and that his family would always be in danger so long as he was with them. Maybe this realisation happened because a Spy came home one evening and found an enemy agent breaking into the house and he had to fight them off. To protect his family, Spy left and later joined RED/BLU as a spy.

I'm sure both Scout and his mother would have said that it was the wrong decision, and that Spy himself came to regret his choice when he got older, but that was the decision a younger Spy had made in the moment.

But even after all that, Spy still visits Scout's Mom in secret, and is willing to spend his last 3 days alive trying to fulfill Scout's dying wish.

But Spy will never take off his mask ever again, because that may once again reveal himself as "the agent that got away" to his superiors and enemies.

TL;DR: Spy left out of love to protect his family from his past enemies.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #my text #headcanon #storytelling #character development #the prisoner 1967 #essay #crocodile dundee #jerma985 #my essays

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moonshynecybin · 7 months ago

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With Liberty media it wasn’t that I don’t think he’s marketable it’s just I look at F1 and it’s very PR trained and while Marc is good with PR he also love the chaos but I guess if they use it to bring attention to the sport liberty media won’t care. I’m just waiting for them to cash in on the rosquez of it all cause I know it’s gonna happen somehow. Out of all the riders who do you think will be best and worst cause I saw someone try to tell me that Marc wouldn’t be marketable and I was like ??? What do you mean.

Also how was being at COTA I have never been to a live race but I’m trying to get to one in the near future hopefully.

i am interested in howwww liberty is going to choose to narrativize these guys. because you’d think it would be a drive to survive parallel but they already KIND OF tried that with motogp unlimited and it categorically flopped. and marc already took his own stab at telling the sepang story via the medium of sports documentary and as a result he mostly got away with avoiding motogp unlimited. and kind of so did vale really… (it’s been a minute but the only time they really acknowledge the rivalry is when they made marc record a retirement message right?? also so funny imagine being marc. imagine.)

but sepang is also imo pretty foundational to the sport in terms of understanding the current dynamics of like. HALF the grid. you have to understand the 2013-2015 seasons i think in order to reap a lot of those narrative dividends concerning modern rivalries ! if you want to sell marc you’re going to have to sell vale. if you want to sell pecco you have to do the same. same with bez. same with luca. same with franky diggia EVERYBODY almost. enea even. they’ve all been floating around each other for so long and they all play such different roles in each other’s stories and i think if they actually churn out a proper little show about it, it’ll be interesting to see what choices they make ! like liberty isn’t concerned with chaos (that drives engagement remember !!) they care about STORY. and they’re going to cast people in roles here. they’re GOING to have a stance. THATS what’s gonna be interesting to see 2 me. because motogp has a hero and a villain and right now they are kind of both named marc marquez

#there’s also marc’s weird controlfreakism about sepang that i would be VERY interested to see how stuff contrasts…#motogp #callie speaks #asks #cota was great bring headphones to any race you go to shit is LOUD.

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tectosilicates · 2 months ago

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Jean Relationship HC (romantic edition)

Regards Mikasa as his first "real crush." Despite developing rather strong feelings for her that persisted several years, Jean never actually pursued her. Several different factors go into it, but Jean developed into a notoriously mean flirt and Mikasa always seemed too classy for that.

(Absolutely daydreamed about Mikasa getting over Eren and pursuing HIM instead.)

Dated Mina Carolina in their second year of cadet training for like a week before Mina dumped him for being a jerk.

Only acknowledged his feelings for Marco being potentially romantic after his death. The realization tormented him for a while, causing him to lose sleep over what ifs and maybes.

Looking back, watching Reiner survive the Female Titan was his definitive bi awakening. Sure, he already knew that he maybe probably had a thing for Marco, but he really put off internalizing that it made him bi.

He didn't develop a crush or anything, but he certainly started noticing Reiner after that. Whatever that was, it was promptly nipped in the bud when Reiner was revealed as a Titan and a traitor.

Connie is the first person Jean opened up habout being bi to. Connie told Sasha because how was he supposed to know "don't tell anybody" would include their bestie???

Jean had a crush on Marlo and flirted kind of aggressively with him (teasing him, trying to show off, etc). He'd occasionally feel guilty about it when he'd remember Hitch's own crush, but hey if she wanted him she should have tried harder! Feels very guilty about it after his death.

Hitch and Jean are exes.

Jean and Hitch shared a drunk kiss mourning Marlo (and admitting to each other how they felt about him) over a bottle of fine wine, swiped by Hitch from her superiors. Hitch makes it clear it doesn't mean anything. They're openly dating two weeks later.

Despite the foundation it was built upon, they actually become quite serious about the relationship (making Hitch Jean's first serious girlfriend/partner). Jean's unwillingness to leave the Scouts for the Military Police is what ultimately kills the relationship.

Hitch breaks things off some time after his return from the mission outside the Wall (aka the Scout's journey to the sea) when Jean makes it clear he intends to continue going on Scouting missions.

(Yes, Hitch vented to Annie's crystal about Jean. I imagine there are things she wishes she could unhear.)

Dated a black-haired civilian girl sometime during the four year time skip. Was a lousy boyfriend and knew that he was more physically attracted than in love with her. Broke up because Jean refused to leave the Survey Corps.

#jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #attack on titan #my post 📝#hitch dreyse #marlowe freudenberg #hmm.... not tagging the others since the mentions are quite minor

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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 years ago

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Since Always, 'Till Forever -P.G

I really, really hope you guys like this! What started as a One Shot ended up being kind of like a mini series, I'm truly happy for all the feedback these fics have gotten. Thank you so much for the support, it means a lot! Please, tell me what you guys think of this, I would love to see your comments! (Let's pretend I didn't took a month and something to pull this out, 'kay? cool) FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED

You can read the first part Since Forever, and the second part Until Forever

Warnings: Lots of angst, heartbreaks, fights, some fluff at a certain point, suggestive content, this is a roller coaster of emotions to be honest🥴, lots of swear words

Summary: You and Pablo know you've been for each other Since Forever and you also know, you'll be there Until Forever because no one has what you both have.

May, 2023

“Gavira!” You yelled turning around with a smile on “I have a knife in my hand and I’m not afraid to use it!”

“¡Joder! I’m so scared”

“As you should, señorito!” You said trying to sound intimidating “I’m dangerous”

“Oh yes, yeah” Gavi nodded “You so are” He went along with you

“I really am!” You exclaimed dropping the act, pouting a bit

Pablo felt his insides twist seeing your lower lip pulled out like that; he wanted to grab it in between with his lips and never let it go. He wanted to taste it, feel their warm and their delicate texture.

It has been six months since he realized his feelings for you and four since he lived one of his nightmares.

After your guys talk during the Supercopa, you’ve been trying to reconnect from the moment your guys distanced, minus the feelings part from your side of course. It had been five months since you started dating Samuel and they were one of the best five months ever in your life.

He knew how to treat you, he knew when to act and when to step aside, he knew when to listen and when to talk, he never pushed you or your feelings away, you were his first priority and everyone could see the fact that he was deeply into you.

You hadn’t said this to anybody but Pedri, Samuel had already said his “I love you” to you and you felt guilty because you still couldn’t say it back, even though you were slowly falling into Samuel’s arms. You liked to think you were getting there, there were times were the three words almost escaped your mouth but you retracted them every single time, saving them up for “a better moment”.

Samuel was really cooperative and understanding, you loved him for it. Everytime he said it he whispered a little “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back now. I’ll make my way into your heart, bonita”. And that was enough for you to start trying for Samuel again.

Meanwhile Pablo had to stand at the sides and watch you be in another guy’s arms, that weren’t his.

He kicked himself everyday for not noticing it earlier; maybe, if he had, he would be the one to hold you close to him, kiss you, cuddle you and do everything else with you and mostly when approximately two months ago he saw a hickey on your neck while being at his.

“You’ve a…” He took a deep breath pushing all those thoughts and mostly jealousy away

“A…?” He pointed a place in his neck as you seconds later groaned “I told him not to! I don’t like hickeys in my neck!” You exclaimed a bit head thrown back giving Pablo a better view of it, he sighed deeply “I still have my foundation here, right? I’m gonna go and cover it up”

He felt everything explode inside of him when he saw that mark, a reminder that you weren’t his. He, on the other side, loved the fact you went to cover it up.

Pablo didn’t like to address his feelings though; the only ones who knew about his love towards you were his sister and Pedri who found out in the most ridiculous way a few weeks back.

The Canario and the Sevillano were out of training, Pedri riding as Pablo was on the passenger seat like always, the youngest one was on his phone watching his Instagram when you came across his screen and he couldn’t help but click it, you had published an story of Samuel with you at Uni and bringing you, a big bouquet of your favorite flowers ‘Estas si que son unas lindas motivaciones para querer estudiar’and there was another one that showed a card with what Pablo could imagine was the guy’s handwriting. Even Samuel’s handwriting was better.

It had your name written and you put a little caption ‘Smash it in your presentation, he said<;3’ Pablo groaned rolling his eyes inevitably making the oldest one look at him in curiosity

“Something’s wrong?”

“Samuel Carnevale is what’s wrong”

“You don’t like him? He’s a nice guy and he likes Y/N”

“That’s why I don’t like him” Pablo let out not fully remembering his feelings for his best friend weren’t public

“Why don’t you like him?” Pablo shook his head

“I just don’t like him”

Pedri was silent for a few minutes until they stopped at a red light “Do you like Y/N?” Pablo’s eyes didn’t met Pedri’s but instead looked down at his phone where he had a pic of you two as his background “You like her”

“Actually, I love her” Pablo corrected

“WHAT?! WHY-?!”

“It was during the World Cup, she wasn’t really talking to me and I didn’t wanted to tell her over text” Pablo said immediately

“…Eres un tonto”

“Well, thank you”

“She had waited for you to notice that for the longest time and now when she’s moving on you’re going to pull her that shitty move?”

“I won’t pull any kind of move on anybody. I’ll let her be happy with Samuel” Pablo shook his head “I know I’ve fucked up but I’ll wait for her” Pablo said “That’s the only thing I can do right now, no matter how much it hurts me”

“Well, felicitaciones por ser el último idiota que se dio cuenta que la amabas. Can I say I told you so?”

Pablo sighed shaking his head “You don’t need to. I’ve been telling myself those four words ever since I realized my feelings and didn’t acted on them straight away”

“She cried so much” Pablo nodded

“I know she did” Pablo’s eyebrows got in their usual place “That’s why I’ll let her be happy with him for how long they be together even if it kills me, if they break up and if she still wants me, shoot my shot”

“I can wish you good luck on that, we both know how Y/N is when she falls in love”

Pablo groaned knowing that if his best friend truly loved someone, it wasn’t that easy to make it go away and that’s what he held a little hope on to. For you to still love him. To give him a chance.

“You truly are; mi niña” Pablo said nodding smiling at you

“You better say that because I have pickles that I can easily put on your sandwich”

“You’re crossing a line over there, young lady” You laughed throwing a slice of onion at him “No! I don’t want to smell like onion!”

“You’d be a cute little and smelly angry onion!” You smiled at him and no matter how much he wanted to try and keep his serious face; he slowly erupted in a smile. He didn’t know how he couldn’t have realized his feelings sooner. He wanted to smash his head against every surface possible

“Es que no puedo contigo” Pablo said shaking his head as you threw another slice at him “¡Hostias, Y/N, parale!” Your laugh told him it was worth smell like onion just to hear that angelic sound and see the happiness on your face

He’ll do anything to keep that smile forever, but just when he thought nothing could ever make you guys separate, your phone started ringing as he saw the ID, he felt his heart fall to the floor.

You instantly reached out for your phone and shooting Pablo a small smile you left the kitchen to attend the call. He felt another tug of his chest and sighed.

Two weeks later

Pablo was deeply asleep when he felt his hand vibrate; he furrowed his eyebrows and opened his eyes to see what was happening. His phone was in his hands and he remembered falling asleep with it while talking to you. The brightness of it, blinded him for a few seconds

“Joder”

He cursed out taking his other hand to his eyes rubbing the sleep away for a bit but it was only needed to see your name across his phone to make him snap out of it

“Hello” He picked up

“Hey” He heard your voice “Can I come over?”

“Sure, something’s wrong?”

“No… I just- I had a fight with Samuel nothing too much but I don’t feel like being alone” You said “I… I’m sorry, I know you have early training tomorrow I shouldn’t have called but-”

“No” Pablo cut you off shaking his head “Don’t worry about it, Y/N/N. I’m here, always will be” A bit of silence overpowered the line for a few seconds “I’m waiting for you”

“I’m already on my way, Pablito” You said softly. When you came to Pablo’s house, you immediately grabbed him and hugged him

“Are you okay?” You nod

“I just… Feel weird” You spoke as Pablo carried you both towards his couch, you on top of him cuddling

“Did he touched you?” Pablo pulled away from you

“No! No! God no! He wouldn’t be talking nor walking if he had!” You shook your head and that eased Gavi for a bit

“What’s wrong then?”

“I just… This isn’t the first time we fight during this week and I don’t know everytime it ends I feel with this need of being anywhere but close to him, he makes me so angry and for the stupid little things ever”

“Why are you fighting?”

“He’s been stressed about his final project at Uni” You said shaking your head “And gosh, everything irritates him! I breathe and he’s off, my phone goes off and he goes off too, Aladdin barks and he goes off, Wifi doesn’t work and he goes off! Everything pisses him off and it’s making me so angry because whenever I’m stressed, I don’t yell at anyone! I just go to the gym to the punching bag and discharge my everything there” You put your hands on your face and yell into them “And I just can’t stand him right now, like… He told me I was absolutely mad! God, he’s gorgeous, so pretty, beautiful but so irritating” Pablo’s eyebrows went up when he heard the adjectives “And sorry for coming here to bother you with my problems. You shouldn’t even be awake in the middle of the night but still here you are” You put your head in the middle of his chest

“It seems like not everything is pink and roses” You punch him lightly making him laugh

“I know not everything it’s pink and roses” You sigh sitting up, making Gavi grab your waist and get comfortable with his head on the armrest “I just think that he’s overreacting, I saw his thesis and it’s too damn amazing, it’s normal that he stresses out, I do that as well but I don’t go around the world screaming at something or someone because I can’t find this correct word to describe something or something like that” You said “I didn’t feel like staying tonight with him” You shook your head “And that’s how I’m here” You looked down at Gavi and find him smiling lightly at you “What?” You asked softly eyebrows scrunched up

Gavi took one of his hands up to your forehead and gave it the same light touches you give his to make his frown go away, the action made you smile widely

“You’re not pretty with your forehead scrunched up, that’s my thing” You laughed lightly

“Sorry” You shook your head, Gavi’s hand coming back to your waist “I’m just irritated, annoyed, mad”

“And that’s okay” He said “I hope everything turns out okay for you, Y/N/N. And I also hope Samuel gets his job done in peace”

“That makes us two” You both laughed

“I can understand him” You hum

“And so can I” You say “It’s his thesis, it’s his final college project” You shrug your shoulders “I guess I’ll be that way when I’m doing mine”

“God bless the poor man who’s with you in those times” You laughed together

“I’m not that bad”

“Yes, keep telling yourself that honey” He said and you laughed “What about we watch your favorite movie to help you distress and everything else?”

“Wall-e?” You asked

“And ice cream, I bought your favorite one” You got off of Pablo and jogged towards the kitchen “Bring me one too, please!”

“NO, THEY’RE MINE!” He heard you yell

Your mood instantly changed. You weren’t grumpy anymore and all it took Gavi was less than ten minutes for you to rant about your fight with your boyfriend, hear you out, be there for you and buy you your favorite Ice cream. It was something magical.

Gavi often didn’t liked being woken up at midnight hours but for you he would stay awake the whole night if he needed to, just to help you and make sure you were okay. That night, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms laid out in his couch. He swears he had never slept better in his whole life.

Soon, it became a little routine; whenever you fight with Samuel, you call your best friend, go to Pablo’s to calm down as he comforted you and fall asleep with him either on his couch, his bed, the floor, everywhere

Today was no different, two months had passed and you were once more laid on his bed with Pablo next to you, legs up to the wall

“SHE WAS TOTALLY FLIRTING WITH HIM, RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING FACE!” You groaned covering your face with your hands “He had the audacity to say she’s just an ex, like what the fucking-?!”

“Tio, uno nunca debe decir eso” Pablo shook his head, showing disagreement with Samuel’s words

“I know, right? He told me I was overreacting, that I was being dramatic because he was dating me not her! That he loves me and not her… BUT YOU AREN’T FUCKING BESTIES WITH YOUR EX!” You yelled out angry, silence flowed the room as you took your hands off of your face “But you know what? I’m not going to just stand there, get hurt and watch; if he wants to spend his time with someone else, then I will do the same thing!”

“Yeah? Who are you gonna flirt with? Me?” You huff rolling your eyes

“Please, don’t flatter yourself that much”

“I’m gorgeous”

“And that’s why you have a bunch of thirteen years old girl fangirling over you in TikTok. If they met you, I’m pretty sure their crushes would vanish in a single second” You looked at him noticing a light pout on his lips and his eyebrows scrunched up, you laughed

“I’m lovely” You laughed agreeing

“You are. You are also pretty, Pabs; don’t worry about it” He smiled lightly

“Anyway… He knows all of your male friends are just that, friends”

“I don’t know I’m gonna go to a fucking pub and see if there’s anyone interested in me. Which would be a bit difficult but I can try”

“Why would that be difficult?”

“I’m not every guy’s type of girl, Pablo” He hums turning his face to watch you

“You’re right. Not every boy wants an amazing girl like you, just real man who knows what he wants” His words softened your face and heart.

For the first time since the starts of your relationship with Samuel you had buried and tried to get the rid off your feelings for Pablo but right now, you had started feeling the same funny feeling you had done for a whole four years. You had succeeded until now. You smiled at him, without showing your teeth

“Thank you” You said as he smiled back

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N/N”

You looked away from him, watching your socked-clothed feet; you put your feet on top of his, your body closer as he welcomed you in his arms. Your head on his shoulder as he softly pushed his on top of yours, staying in silence for the rest of the evening, no more words were needed to say.

You were saying everything and at the same time nothing.

…

“Will you be at my presentation?” You asked sitting in front of Pablo during his lunch break, both of you eating

“Yes” He said mid-chewing “Es mañana, ¿verdad?” You nod furrowing your eyebrows “¿Qué pasa?”

“Don’t talk while eating, it’s rude and you look gross”

“You’ve seen me worse” Pablo shrugged his shoulders “¿Me recuerdas la hora?” He asked as you took a sip of his cholocate milk

“9:30”

“I’ll be there at 9” You smiled

“You’re allowed to be a little late”

“I won’t” He reassured you with a smile “Need to always be there for my best and favorite girl”

“I’m your only, favorite and best girl” You push your eyebrows up

“That you are” He nodded high fiving you “Do I have to dress fancy?”

“Not that much but you can’t exactly appear in hoodies and cargos”

“Joder” He cursed out a bit making you laugh “Now, you’ll make me go shopping”

“¡Mentiroso! You’ve nice going-out clothes” He lifted his eyebrows

“I’ll see what I can do then” You smiled at each other

“¡Chicos, estamos listos!” Both of them snapped their heads at Xavi’s voice

“See you tomorrow then, Páez” You smiled getting up leaning over him to kiss his cheek and hug him by the shoulders

“See you later” He corrected grabbing you by the hands and not letting you get away from him

“What’s up?” You asked he pouted his lips a bit letting you know he wanted to give you a kiss. You smiled and putted your cheek on the front of his face; soon you felt his lips collide with your skin repeatedly, you giggled pushing him away

“Your kisses are wet” You whipped his saliva of your cheek

“No, you kept moving around, I couldn’t kiss you properly”

“Tonto” You pushed his face away laughing “See you later then” You pronounced heavily the later making him smile

You left the training grounds as Pedri, Ansu and Balde joined Pablo

“You are a goner for her” Ansu said as Pablo sighed nodding

“Yes, I am” He soon felt Pedri’s hands on his shoulders

“Venga, Pablito. We need to keep training”

Your leg was going up and down quickly as you received the news, you instantly had grabbed your teammate point and read it, whilst trying to remember yours at the same time; you were freaking nervous, everything seemed just wrong for you at that time and you wanted to be curled up in your bed, relaxed, crying and watching any kind of series. Everything was better than feeling this way.

A voice distracted you from your doings “¡Pero mira que preciosa estás!” Pablo exclaimed after seeing you with your group, you looked for his voice and immediately smiled seeing him walk over to you, your nerves easing a little bit.

“¡Y tú estás muy lindo! Extremely handsome” You said hugging him tightly; he kissed your cheek several times “I told you, you had nice out-going clothes” You felt him laugh against you before separating himself from you lightly. His hands still on your waist as yours rested on his biceps

“All done to smash it?” Your smile fell and shook your head

“I have less than an hour to learn one of my teammate’s points, she couldn’t come and the professor’s want all the information” You started talking quickly, you started waving your hands a bit “I-I” You shook your head “I don’t think I can make it, like… I barely know mine” You laughed nervous “And Samuel is supposed to come with the empanaditas for the judges but I haven’t been able to reach out for him in the whole morning, the guys are getting impatient and I don’t have any more excuses as to why he isn’t here already” You took a deep breath feeling Pablo grab your hands “I’m not ready, I’ll not make it” You shook your head “I wanna leave, I wanna cry and throw up to be honest”

“Hey, hey” He said repeatedly “Where’s your mom?” He asked

“Already inside, so is dad and so are my brothers” You said

“And where are those empandas?”

“In my house”

“Ok, I have my key with me” He said nodding “I’ll go look for them, bring them back here and see you smash that thing, you meanwhile get pretty, don’t cry and read that fuckers teammate point”

“Pablo, no! Once you are in, you can’t come out!”

“You forgot I’m Barca’s golden boy, I’ll use everything I have and own but you’ll have me and those empanadas watching you and being proud of you, mi niña” He kissed your cheek quickly “I’ll go!”

He left you with your mouth full of words, after you didn’t see him, smiled widely.

He is the golden boy and when he wants something, he gets it, you couldn’t help but looked at your watch 9.05am; you sighed mentally hoping for him to get back in 25minutes, but as time went by, there was no signal of Pablo.

Your teammates were already in line to enter, you were last seeing as you were the one who closed the presentation and answered the questions, you sighed 9.30 and Pablo hadn’t make it. You were shaking, tears pooling in your eyes the words on the paper weren’t clear as they were before.

“¡Mi niña!” You heard his voice and turned around, Pablo was there jogging up to you. You sighed once more, this time in relief and ran not caring of your heels up to him

“You made it” You whispered feeling some tears roll down on your face

“Of course I did” He whispered “Had Pedri to drive me around, probably made him break a few laws, have to pay him those too” You laughed letting go of him “Hey, no. Don’t cry”

“It’s just too much” Pablo carefully, not wanting to ruin your makeup, wiped your tears away “Thank you” He smiled kissing your cheek

“No problem at all”

“No, really. Thank you. You have saved my ass once more” You grabbed the plastic bag full of the empanaditas “But, you have to get inside there, right now or you won’t be able to get in during the next forty seconds”

“Forty seconds leaves me time to do something…” He grabbed your hands “Smash it like you always have done, Y/N. Whatever happens I’m proud of you and I know you’ve worked so hard for this. You got it” You nod “Stop crying, that doesn’t make you look as pretty as you truly are” You laughed lightly “You can even give me the paper so if you forget about something, you can rely on me, I will pay attention to the words” You laugh once more giving him the paper

“And don’t fucking care about him. You’ve got your family in there… And you’ve got me, since always and ‘till forever”You smiled nodding, his arms wrapped around you “Te quiero y sé que esto no es nada comparado con lo que tú puedes hacer, guarda esos nervios para el platillo de verdad” You laughed feeling him tighten his arms around you, joining your foreheads

“I will do”

“You’re the fucking boss, mi niña. Smash it” One of your teammates called you signaling you it was time, you felt Pablo kiss your cheek

“Go” You said separating from him; he smiled jogging to the forum “Martín!” He turned around “¡Te quiero!” He smiled blowing you a kiss before entering.

Your eyes never left his while waiting your turn; both of you smiling at each other and when it was your time, your eyes searched his whenever you thought you’d forget something but you didn’t.

You managed your way, walking slowly from a place to the other showing confidence, supporting yourself onto your guys material and even cracked a few jokes along the way that made the judges and the entire audience laugh, you spoke with a smile on your face and a radiant light on your aura. You answered all the team questions with ease, as if someone had asked you, what’s your favorite food, Pablo’s heart swelled with proud watching you smash your presentation even though, you were crying a few minutes before that.

“Congratulations!” You hugged your family with a big smile on after you were out, your brothers had a little card with your name in it and cheering you on, you laughed at their silliness

“Where’s Pablo?” You asked curious after hugging your family when you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you up in the air turning you around

“Pablo’s here!” He said after putting you down, you laughed turning to face him

“You’re crazy!”

“You love me like that!”

“Why did you left?” He smiled pulling out from his back his other arm; a bouquet of your favorite flowers were in front of you. You laughed feeling tears come up to your eyes “You didn’t have to” You whispered shaking your head with a smile on and accepting the flowers

“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to” He said with a loving smile “You deserve this and more though” Pablo smiled pulling both of his arms around you to keep you close to him “If it was for me, I would gifted you something more extravagant” You laughed “…But I know you like simple things”

“Simple things are the best” You replied

“They are” He agrees “But you deserve to be spoiled too” You shake your head “Stop crying” He shaked you a bit

“They’re happy tears, I swear” He with the pad of his thumbs, wiped your tears “Thank you”

“Don’t” He shook his head lightly “Don’t thank me. I will do anything for you in a heartbeat, Y/N/N” You smiled “Don’t let anyone ruin this big day for you, especially him” Pablo whispered as your smile slowly fell

“He’s good” You said “He loves me and he must have a good reason for not showing up today”

“If he doesn’t prioritizes you then he’s not good”

You looked down at the flowers, sighing. “He has to have a really good reason, he has never forgot something when it comes to me and much less something big as this is” You shrugged your shoulders. You truly hoped he had a good reason.

Even though, Pablo and your family had taken you out to eat, tried to lift your mood and got you to laugh sometimes, you were constantly checking on your phone to see if there were any messages of him. Nothing.

You thought you did a good job at hiding it but Pablo had read you completely. He sighed sadly. He was serious and he meant it when he said you deserved everything and better.

Your mood that day was halfway ruined. You wished you had all of your loved ones with you but Samuel was missing and the worst of everything it was that he never texted you that night to come up with some excuse, it broke your heart and for the first time in your entire relationship with him, you cried yourself to sleep.

You never liked the feeling of being forgotten ever since your parents confused their picking you up time you felt so bad, you started crying and crying, that much you had to sleep with them that night, you only had felt that way twice times in your whole life. And you never liked it. Three, now. Counting Samuel’s.

You woke up next day with a strong headache, ten messages of Pablo and the five messages of Samuel, you didn’t wanted to keep on reading on your phone.

Pablo Páez Buenos días. How are you feeling? I’m sorry Samuel is an ass Please don’t let him ruin your mood ever again I saw you yesterday and I wouldn’t like to see you like that again. Much less for a boy. Te quiero mucho Would you like to spend the day with me? Aurora and my family will come later; they are hoping to see you. Text me whenever you can, please

Samu✨💖 Preciosa I’m sorry I completely forgot about it And I feel so mad at myself Have dinner with me tonight to make up for it?

You sighed, head throbbing with a headache for crying so much. It was too early to be debating yourself from this kind of things, so you just picked Pablo’s message and replied a single yes, you’ll face Samuel later.

…

“So… Are you coming for dinner with Rora with my parents or what?” Pablo asked calling you while having lunch, he was training today.

Your eyebrows furrowed hearing him ask that

“I told you yes, that I wanted to go” You say confused “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, so yes”

“You didn’t told me anything”

“Yes I did” You say nodding

“No, you didn’t”

“Páez, I messaged you this morning”

“Y/L/N, you did not messaged me this morning. I haven’t heard of you since last night until right now that I’m talking to you”

You laughed in disbelief “The joke’s not funny” You said

“It isn’t a joke, mi niña”

But it truly wasn’t a joke because as if on cue, a message of Samuel appeared on your screen

Samu✨💖 Dinner is reserved Meet me there at 7?

Fucki-

You groaned sighing

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked while drinking a bit of his water

“I was so sleepy in the morning, I did texted” You nodded “But instead of texting you, I texted Samuel” You sighed, Pablo looked at you before laughing

“Cancel on him”

“I can’t just cancel on him, Pabs”

“Yes, you can. He didn’t showed up!”

“But I’m not him, Pablito” You shook your head “He’s sorry and he’s already done reservations” You sighed “I really wanted to see Belén tho”

“I’ll let her know that” He smiled lightly “What hour’s the date?”

“7”

“It’s 2.36” You nod

“I know how to read the hour, thanks” He laughed lightly

“What you gonna do?”

“Obviously go, he’s my boyfriend”

“Doesn’t act like one” You roll your eyes ignoring his statement

“…See why he didn’t showed up and…”

“And?”

“…And hopefully get laid” You replied laughing watching Pablo’s eyebrows lift up impressed with the honesty “I don’t know, I’m stressing out so much these days”

“Wow” That’s all he said. You kept on laughing “Don’t tell me the details if that happens, please”

“I wasn’t going to anyway” You shook your head sighing, both of you stayed in silence for a few seconds “But he’s just that good-”

“Xavi’s calling!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking” You said smiling

“I don’t like you sometimes”

“You love me everytime”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night” Pablo shook his head, staying in silence for a few seconds.

You furrowed your eyebrows seeing him a bit sad so suddenly “Something’s wrong?” He shook his head, smiling a bit

“Everything’s fine. I gotta go, Lewy’s calling me”

“But he’s not-”

The words died in your mouth as Pablo hung up the call; you kept on staring and the black screen of your phone for a few seconds before letting it fall a bit roughly against the surface of your eating table. You sighed feeling a bit mad for not knowing what had happened to Pablo and why did he left you so suddenly, you were also tired even if you had slept until two hours ago, you weren’t feeling the best.

You picked your phone again, looking at Samuel’s text and another wave of indescribable and many feelings came rushing into you, mixed feelings.

Suddenly you didn’t wanted to go at the restaurant, the dressing up thing seemed a lot to you right now, you preferred to be at home or have a nice car ride with him, you wanted Samuel to come and look out for you, take care of you and mend everything these past few weeks have been with him, in the simplest way possible.

But you also wanted to put Samuel to the side and have the greatest of times with your best friend, to take care of Pablo and him of you. He seemed down so suddenly and you wanted to know what had happened to him that made him act like that.

You were conflicted and you hated it.

Opening your camera roll, you scrolled through pictures trying to clear a bit your mind but it was as if fate decided you to choose right now, after a picture of you and Samuel, last week at one of your friend’s house, you remembered you had three days without fighting and you were over the moon, you never liked fighting with your loved or close ones.

It was the both of you sat in the grass with the Christmas light hanging in the tree behind you both, she had decorated for the get-together and you always had loved decorated trees. Samuel had said something making you laugh hysterically as he smiled against your cheek. And that’s how the picture was taken by one of his friends.

You cuddled up to him, head thrown back a bit laughing as he looked at you with a big smile on, his dimples appearing and his eyes scrunching up a bit in a cute way. You smiled looking at the picture, you really liked Samuel and you knew you could fall for him and mostly if you could stop all of these fights that have been happening, for you both, constantly.

Swiping to the next picture, you found one of you and Pablo in his apartment doing a movie night, taken by Pablo himself. You loved this picture because Pablo almost never truly smiles in pics, he’s just tight smiling, side smiling, smirking or simply not smiling at all, in this one he had fully smiled showing his teeth and something that you loved of Pablo was his toothy smile.

The pic itself was beautiful even if it was taken while the two of you were looking a bit bad and fooling around, you were doing a peace sign with one hand with duck lips and closed eyes, the other around Pablo’s shoulders bringing him into you as he was simply smiling.

Your thumb moved around watching both pictures, until you decided and made up your mind.

Pablo had made himself known he didn’t wanted you like you wanted him unlike Samuel who wanted you and fought for you and you were going to do the same for him back, they were stupid and simple fights and you could get out of them. He was your boyfriend whilst Pablo was, is and will always be your best friend.

You left your phone on the table Samuel pic shown and you smiled on your way to doll yourself up for him, for your boyfriend and hoping that you could solve everything going on between the two of you for good.

You figured if Pablo had something, he would tell you straight away. And if he didn’t, you could always get it out of him for yourself and help him, like the best friend you were and will always be. You couldn’t let some simple fights and his comforts, get in the way to your relationship and mess with your head and heart.

Time was nearly 7pm when you finished and hailed a cab to get you towards the restaurant, when you arrived the restaurant, you texted him letting him know you were already there

“Can I get you something, ma’am?” You smiled shaking your head politely at the waiter

“I’m waiting for someone, thank you” He smiled

“If you need anything, you can call me” You nodded your head lightly

“Will do, thank you” And with that the waiter left

Truth to be told, you lost count of the amount of times the waiter had asked you if you wanted something to eat or where ready to order, you always answered with the same phrase “I’m waiting for someone, thank you”. You stopped watching the hour, when you realized you saw that three hours have passed, you were tired of sending him messages, you wanted to cry

“Miss” The same waiter said giving you a little white container

“I didn’t order anything”

“I know you didn’t but I’m sorry for your date. You deserve someone better” He sadly smiled at you “We’re closing already” You nodded fighting the tears, stood up and left a few bills on the table

“Thank you so much” You said and left the restaurant.

You asked once more for a taxi and fought all the way back to your house the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You had no energy to fight him; you didn’t had energy to cry anymore. You were on autopilot mode taking off your heels, undid your hair, cleaned your face and took off your dress pulling a random but comfy shirt.

Your phone never rang with an apology text or with a call. And you went to sleep with a heavy heart that night, tears falling and falling from your eyes. Once more being forgotten

Next day rolled in and your phone had rang multiple times but you weren’t in the mood to face an ‘I’m sorry I forgot’ kind of thing from Samuel so when the door of your room was opened you pretended to be asleep.

“¡Joder, Y/N!” You heard Pablo’s voice and instantly relaxed a bit “Why aren’t you answering my calls or texts? I was going mad thinking something had happened to you! It’s almost 5 in the evening, loca!” You heard his footsteps for seconds before you felt the bed dip in “Y/N?” His hand shook your shoulder a bit “Y/N” He shook harder “You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mi niña” He chuckled and that made you smile a bit

But then you sniffed

“Y/N? You’re awake?”

You cursed yourself out and held in your breath

“Y/N, you’re awake. I know you” You sighed knowing what was coming.

He pulled down the blanket that was covering your whole frame

“Hi” Your voice cracked but still tried to make a smile for him

“Maldición, what happened?” You sighed closing your eyes; you shook your head and tried to pull the blanket back up again “No, Y/N. What happened? Why are you crying?

You stayed silent before letting yourself cry again, you felt Pablo’s arms around you.

“Y/N, baby” You felt Pablo get underneath the covers and pulled you into his embrace “No, no, no. Don’t cry, mi niña”

“He forgot” You said into Pablo’s neck “I was there.” You shook your head “I was there the whole night, looking like a stupid little girl… He never answered his phone, people giving me pity looks and I hated it” You sniffed grabbing him tighter “I did my hair just the way he likes it, I dressed up with his favorite color, I did myself for him yesterday” You cried “And he never showed up. He never answered my calls nor my texts. He forgot about me, about us, I-” You stopped your ranting, crying

“I’m gonna kill that guy” Pablo said moving around but you clinged onto him

“Don’t leave please” You whispered making Pablo’s heart break.

He had saw you pass several heartbreaks, he had seen you cry for men who in the first place never deserved you, he had always been there for you for each and every single one of them but this was the first time he had seen you suffer for a guy while he was in love with you.

This was a whole reset. Pablo didn’t know what to do, say or treat you like, to make you feel safe and forget about Samuel; Pablo hated the fact you were hurting over a stupid guy who didn’t deserved you meanwhile he was there dying to reach out for you, fill your heart, body and life with the happiness and love you truly deserve.

He really wanted to go towards Samuel’s house and make him regret every single little thing, he had been doing to you these past few months, the constant fights at the beginning were because of stupid little things but they keep going on and on and it was more often you spending your night at Pablo’s, even though he never complained, he loved spending time with you but he never liked you crying and sad.

He felt rage and all he could see was beating Samuel up but at the second you clinged into him, he softened and his rage turned into care, his arms tightened around you, his lips let a kiss on your hairline and he pulled you into him

“He’s a tremendo gilipollas” You chuckled a bit and sniffed

“I should’ve listened to you and cancel on him” You whispered after a little while “I’m sure I could have spent the most amazing time with my Páez Gavira family”

“Mom misses you too, by the way” You smiled “She asked you to call her” You nod sniffing

“I will do, later” You got your face out from his chest and smiled at him softly “I’m sorry about wetting your shirt” He looked down at his shirt

“You left a bit of snot there” He joked as you scoffed

“I’m gonna look for another shirt for you” He pulled your wrist, getting you on top of him again

“I don’t care about some moco or lágrimas on my shirt. I care for you to be happy” He smiled back at you and leaned down to kiss your cheek “What do you say if we bake something? Your favorite? We can’t let you keep going this way the whole day”

“I love you so much, you know? I’m so glad I’ve you as my best friend, Pabs” You said smiling as his heart softly broke hearing you be-friend him

Guess it’s my turn to feel it. Pablo thought

“I love you too, mi niña. And I’m always going to be here for you, whenever and wherever you need me”

“I kinda feel bad though, you shouldn’t be here looking after me and my romantic fails”

“I can and I will” Pablo smiled kissing your cheek and lifting himself from your body “Now, c’mon. Let’s make some good treats for us and have a skin care night, my cutis needs one of those olive face masks of yours”

…

“Are we ready to party?!” Pedri and Gavi yelled out coming to your house as you lifted your eyes from your paper work

“Am I getting a thing for this exam?!”

“YES?” Pedri asked as you huffed

“No” You whine

“C’mon, let’s distress tonight” Gavi said putting his head in your shoulder, his hands going around your waist and Pedri lifted his eyebrows as you tried not to blush or smile

“I can’t, I have this big exam on Wednesday and I don’t understand a thing from it”

“But today’s Friday” Gavi said

“I know”

“You still have five days for it”

“I know”

“Then take a break” You whined

“I can’t, Pablo”

“Don’t call me that”

“It’s your name”

“Not for you!” You smiled lightly

“I would love to, guys. But I can’t”

“Yes, you can” Pedri said “I bet you have like five hours going on with this”

“Five hours?” Gavi scoffed “Better said whole day” You roll your eyes “Have you even ate something?” You nod

“I did. Was feeling too hungry for my own good” Pablo smiled opting to sit down besides you

It has been four days since your failed date with Samuel, he has been texting you but you were giving him the cold shoulder ever since, only replying one message saying: ‘Not in the mood to talk to you, right now. We’ll chat later’ and archived his messages.

“That’s good though” He smiled showing off his teeth “But seriously, get your pretty ass up from this chair and get ready to relax for a while”

“Pablo, no!” You whine softly as he shook his head grabbing your hand and getting you out of the chair

“Pablo, yes! You’ll thank me later for this”

“WAIT-NO! PABLO!” You yelled out as he lifted you on his back as if nothing and walked with you towards your room

“Get pretty and get ready. Pedri and I will wait for you downstairs”

You knew best than try to fight him so you did what he had asked you to, get pretty and get ready for a night out with your favorite boys since it’s been a while since you got one.

“Where are we going?” You asked after a little while

“A que Ansu” Pedri said smiling

“Will there be a lot of people there?”

“Hopefully not” Gavi turned to look at you “, but we already know how Ansu is” You laugh lightly “Don’t worry. I will not let you alone”

“What about the chicks?” Pedri asked jokingly winning a deadly glare from Pablo

“I don’t care about the chicks”

“You can get someone though” You said softly “You don’t have to stop yourself from getting fun because of me”

“I’m not stopping myself from anything, Y/N. I simply don’t want to leave you” He shrugged a bit “I’m more than okay being with you, I don’t need a random girl who just wants me because I’m Pablo Gavi, I just need you” He said looking at you in the eye as you smiled softly

“Ah, Y/N… You got the golden boy whipped” Pedri joked as Pablo glared at him and you laughed brushing his comment off and not paying too much attention to it.

“He’s just being a good friend”

“No. I’m just being normal… I’m being Pablo” He looked at you “Your Pablo”

“You’re getting too sappy”

“You like that”

“Sure” You spoke with sarcasm and Pedri laughed turning the car to the left, Ansu’s house being visible

“C’mon” Pedri said after parking “Let’s go and have a good time” He smiled as Pablo opened the door for you and helped you get out

You greeted Ansu, Alejandro, Ronald, Frenkie, Christensen, Raphinha, almost everyone of the squad, their girlfriends and wives with a warm smile and a warm hug. Immediately, the guys chatted with you for a bit, when Gavi came up to you with a drink

“Know you don’t like Tequila and that you have to focus tomorrow for your exam. So don’t worry, this is just Coca-Cola” You smiled at him and leaned a bit to kiss his cheek

“Thanks” You murmured feeling him wrap his arm around you and pull you into him

“Let’s sit” Pablo offered with a light smile on as you nod

The night was going on great, you laughed, danced for a bit with Pedri and then Gavi who claimed Pedri was stealing you way too much and had a great time in general, until Ansu decided to post a picture of you, Gavi, Pedri, Alejandro, himself and their respective girls, flings or friends and post it on his Best-Friends Instagram story.

You don’t know how, not when, not anything like that but somehow Samuel had seen the story and soon when you were laughing at something Gavi was telling you, Samuel came in cutting your whole night short and threw your mood away.

You didn’t wanted to see him, still not ready to talk to him and forgive him for what he had done in the day of your presentation and the day after with the restaurant thing. Gavi clearly saw the whole thing and was a bit upset

“What are you doing here, bonita? Why didn’t you invited me? This is nice!”

“Pedri and Gavi brought me here. The invited doesn’t invite” You said serious before giving him your back

“But Ansu is my friend! I’m sure he would’ve loved me here”

“You already are here, hermano” Gavi said “You can stop the ranting and just enjoy the night”

“Nah! Mind your business, Gavira”

Pablo opened his mouth but you put a hand on top of his, slightly shaking your head

“Please don’t” You begged “I just want to enjoy tonight” Pablo nodded at you

“If you want him out-” You cut Pablo off

“I do” You nod “I’m not ready to face him but he’s already here. This isn’t your house for you to kick him out nor either is your party” You sighed “We’re just invited”

“I’m best friends with the owner of the house”

“Still, Samu is friends with the guys, they don’t know our problems and they will like him being here. Let’s just forget about everything, okay? Let’s enjoy ourselves” You patted his thigh sending him a little smile

“Just for you” He said after a few seconds, your smile widening “But still, if he does something to you, just tell me” You nod rolling your eyes

“Will do”

“Promise?” He showed his pinky, making you shake your head lightly

“Promise, mi lindo” You linked your pinky with his and you bottled out of your bubble

The night was good, both you and Pablo were almost ignoring all the way Samuel, who was each time more and more insistent on having your attention

Tarot was playing and you were once more dancing with Gavi, you probably looked like a hypocrite, your boyfriend asked you a few minutes ago to dance but you declined saying you were tired but when Gavi asked if you wanted to dance you extended your hand and let him lead you to the dance floor

You were dancing and singing to the song with Pablo goofing around with him when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you turned around and saw Samuel

“Dance with me?” You softly shook your head

“I don’t want to”

“Please, just one dance. I miss my girlfriend” He said and you raised your eyebrows

“I’m still mad for what you did” You shook your head in disbelief “Please, I really don’t want to be near you right now”

“Y/N-” Pablo cut him off

“She said she doesn’t want to and that she wants you to leave her alone, please. Can you understand that?”

“Mind your business”

“Her business are mine too, so please step aside. Let her be”

“Our relationship doesn’t involve you, kid” Samuel pushed Pablo by the shoulders

“What did you just called me?” Pablo asked rage going all around his body; he marched towards Samuel but you quickly intervened putting yourself in front of the Sevillano

“He isn’t worth it, Pabs; don’t let him get to you. You’re not a kid; you’re more man than anyone in this room, please. Don’t put yourself into his level” You whispered but your words got in one of Pablo’s ears and went out of the other, hell, he wasn’t even looking at you even if you joined both of your foreheads whilst talking

Pablo softly pulled you out of his front and stepped up to Samuel

“I called you what you are, a fucking kid”

“Hijo de tú put-” You pulled Pablo back by his shoulder but he got himself out of your grasp

“Stop” You somehow got in the middle of them “I said stop” You looked both guys before your gaze stayed on Pablo “Please” Each one of your hands were placed in the guys chest, preventing their movement

“Step aside bonita” Samuel said taking off your hand softly and moving closer

“Yes, Y/N. Step aside” Pablo agreeded

“The fucking I will move from here. Stop” Your voice started shaking “I will dance with you; I will do anything, Samuel. Just fucking stop. Stop” You pleaded “This is a party, to have a good time not to fight”

“It was” Samuel said “But this fucker wants to get my girl and insert his nose in places he shouldn’t and I’m not gonna allow it”

“Your girl doesn’t want to be with you because you’re an asshole and a shitty boyfriend; I’m just being a good best friend, a human and a reasonable man to treat her how she deserves to be treated, not forgetting her at restaurants and pulling stupid stunts. Shame on you to treat such a wonderful girl like she’s nothing” Samuel smirked and pulled you out of the middle

“Well… My girl, my treatments”

“Pablo” You warned grabbing his arm trying to pull him back but it was a failure, he was angry and he was stronger than you, Pablo squared up once more to Samuel. Both of their faces separated by millimeters

“Eres un tremendo gilipollas” Pablo said

Your eyes devised Pedri who was already coming over with Fernando, his older brother behind him. You silently thanked him for noticing, the loudness of the music wouldn’t have done anything if you called for any of the guys.

“Yeah? This gilipollas is breaking your legs, golden boy” He mocked Gavi’s title “Calling yourself a man when all you can do is run around the field, acting like a little kid, stomping your feet, doing rabietas and run into the other players because you don’t know how to play for shit”

Pablo smiled angrily before launching himself at Samuel, when Pedri grabbed him in the perfect moment and Fer grabbed Samuel, the other lads noticed this and they instantly went up to help.

You were surprised by Pablo, he had undone himself from Pedri’s, Lewandowski’s, Raphinha’s, Araujo’s, Alejandro’s, Diego’s (One of his childhood friends) and Sergio’s hold, meanwhile Samuel was controlled by Ansu, Ferran, Eric and Fer.

You decided to step in for Pablo “Please, stop. This isn’t funny anymore, Pabs” You begged feeling tears up in your eyes, your hands went to touch his face but he refused pushing your hands away

“I’m gonna kill him” He growled

“No, you won’t” You said grabbing his arms but he let himself go rudely which startled you and made you lose your footing.

You would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for Alejandro who quickly saw it and helped you, still your ankle suffered a bit. You whimpered out in pain, Pablo’s eyes quickly softening as seeing you in pain

“¡Dios mío, joder!” He kneeled down besides you, worry written on his face “I’m so sorry, mi niña” He said going to touch your hands but now it was you who didn’t wanted his touch

“Well done, football star” Samuel said also kneeled down besides you, he wrapped his arm around your waist

“Look, cabrón-” You cut Pablo off

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, you were angry with him, angry with Samuel and angry to the fact that you had to end up with a bruised ankle to make them both stop “I don’t want to talk to both of you right now, I came here to relax, to forget about everything” You looked at Samuel first who looked down in shame and then to Pablo who sniffed not being able to meet your gaze “and here I am with a bruised ankle. I told you both to stop and both of you acted like fucking children!” You sniffed not being able to hold the tears anymore “I wanna get out of here”

“I’ll take you” Samuel said quickly

“She came with me, she can leave with me”

“I’m not leaving with any of you!” You exclaimed angry once more “If I have to take a fucking Uber, I’ll take it. If I have to walk all the way to my house or any place I want to, I will do it. But I don’t want to see both of your faces for a long while” Alejandro helped you stand up but you whimpered once more not being able to

Pedri got close and helped you get out of your heels, you hissed when his hand came in contact with the injured part

“Sorry, cariño” He said “Gotta take it off” You whimpered a bit when he was almost done, you heard Pedri hiss a bit “We gotta go to the hospital, this is turning blue” You groaned

This wasn’t how you expected to spend your night.

You felt Pedri helping you get up on your feet “Want my shoes?” He asked but you declined

“Just want this night to end as soon as possible” You murmured

“Y/N-” Pablo said stopping in front of you but you shook your head

“Just shut up” You pleaded and watched how Pablo’s mood shifted to a sad one

“I’m sorry”

It’s all he said before letting you go but before that he heard you murmur a little

“I shouldn’t even have gotten out of the house today” And he knew in that moment he had fucked it up once more but he couldn’t do anything else besides stand there and watch you leave doing little jumps with Pedri

“See what you have done?” He heard Samuel’s voice

“I’m not gonna talk to you, cabrón” Pablo replied “Y/N just got hurt because of you”

“Me? You were the one who pushed her”

“I didn’t pushed her”

“Guys” Ansu called “I think you should leave it. We don’t want another accident to happen” Pablo sighed nodding at his friend’s words “Samuel, thanks for coming man but I think you should leave” Samuel without saying anything else nodded and left “You too, Pablito”

“What?!”

“Don’t play yourself the innocent” Ferran said “You should’ve done what Y/N told you”

“He kept on calling me names, saying things”

“And she told you to not pay attention to those things” Ferran nodded “And now, she’s hurt. You brought her here to have a good time, to take her worries away but instead you created new ones” Pablo sighed knowing his friends were right.

Without fighting, Pablo waved goodbye and left the house. He texted Pedri on his way home

-Where’s she?

Pedrito González: *Sent ubication* Pedrito González: But she doesn’t want to see you, hermano

Pablo sighed feeling his heart heavy

-Is she good?

Pedrito González: Y/N is fine, can’t say the same thing about her ankle. She has to have a cast for the next five days

Pablo wanted to break his ankle himself too. Much better, give himself some good punches for ruining what it was supposed to be you relaxing night.

“She’s gonna be so mad at me. Hell, I’m mad at me as well” Pablo said before blocking his phone and walking towards his house already thinking on ways to make you forgive him

Next day he came up to your house and you raised an eyebrow, not expecting him there but knowing he was going to make an appearance sooner or later

“How are you?”

“My ankle is in a cast, I can’t walk properly, I can’t shower properly, I have to rely on Pedri to do my shopping that I always do on Saturdays whilst I’m grateful for him offering to do it, I’m not exactly a fan of him knowing what kind of pads I use, I have to do this assignment and later on study for Monday’s exam, Samuel hasn’t stopped bothering me, that much I had to turn the airplane mode on, my wifi isn’t working as quick as I would love it to, I also didn’t wanted to see the owner of my ankles disgrace today but he’s here anyway and I have to take medication for the amount of pain this injury gives me. How do you think I am?”

Pablo stood there looking at you in silence; guilty was not a correct word to express how bad he was feeling

“Like you need more medication to work your pain away?”

“I wouldn’t even need medication if it wasn’t for yours and Samuel’s little show yesterday!” You exclaimed throwing a cushion in his way which he easily grabbed in his hold

“And I’m completely sorry because of that” Pablo said coming over to sit next to you “I’m truly, truly sorry for it. He was just being an asshole, calling me names, you know I hate when people calls me kid and-” You cut him off

“If you behave like that you are surely giving them a good reason to think you are a kid” You said “Which you aren’t by the way” You added quickly “Tienes que tener la cabeza fría, not pay attention to everyone’s words. You know you are an amazing football player and you’re also an amazing human being. We could just have ignored him and spend the rest of the night as we had done it until that moment”

“He wasn’t going to let you go”

“If he wasn’t, then we would have. We could’ve gone anywhere else, whenever we wanted to. But no!” You closed your laptop frustrated “Mister-I-get-worked-up-too-quickly couldn’t ignore a single sentence and leave with me, no! He had to act like a macho and demonstrate how he couldn’t handle his emotions, ignore my words and hurt his best friend without meaning to in the process” Pablo’s head was looking down at his lap in shame

“I’m sorry”

“I know you are” You said and he looked up at you “But you’re an idiot”

“I know I am” His reply made you smile lightly

“…My idiot”

“I am” This time he smiled “Forgive me, please?” You look at him

“With one condition” He nodded listening to you “If next time, I tell you to stop and you don’t stop, I’m breaking your legs for you to stop playing for a very, very, very long time and don’t even think about coming over to talk to me because I will act as if I don’t know you” He nods “And I have to be your passenger princess too for whole three months straight”

“Done” He smiled “But you can be my passenger princess any time you want to” You smiled

“Also you have to massage my ankle” He gave you a look “You did it, you treat me”

“Fine” He sighed “How about I even make your shopping instead of Pedri? I already know you prefer pads instead of tampons” You smile at him “With wings”

“That’s very important” You pointed out as he laughed nodding

“Then its done” You nod

“It’s done” He hugged you tightly as you leaned into him

“For how long do you need that?”

“Four days now” He hissed

“I’m really sorry”

“Yeah, I’m about to kick your crotch too and just tell you I’m sorry”

“Please, don’t. It has already suffered a lot from those fucking players” You laugh out and soon he joined you

And that’s how you come back to ‘normal’ with Pablo, four days pass on as he was checking in on you, like a personal nurse, he even had slept those four days in your house to, in his words “check on everything you need” but when Pablo came in with a bouncy step on his walk you knew he had something planned

“What do you want?” You asked him as soon as he appeared in your house from his training

“¿Qué? ¿Ya aquí no reciben a uno con un hola, buenas tardes, ¿Cómo estás? ¿Cómo te fue? ¿Nada??” You laughed

“Hola, buenas tardes. ¿Qué tal te fue en el training?” You asked watching a small smile appear on his face nodding

“That’s better” He said going over to kiss your cheek “Me he caído durante el entrenamiento, the guys have laughed their asses off” You smiled

“Damn. Why whenever I go to training nothing happens to you?”

“Because I try to impress you”

“Ush!” You roll your eyes “As if it would’ve worked… My eyes are always on Lewanpapi”

“Lewanwho?” You laughed out loud

“The things that man does to me… Without even trying”

“Y/N!”

“I’m joking” You giggle “Or am I?” Pablo gives you a look “I’m joking, I’m joking” Pablo smiled “I care about for Pepi, have you seen him?” You put your best shocked face as Pablo gives you another look once more “He came back hotter from that injury and I just-” You did a weird motion with your hands, face and shoulder “HE’S GORGEOUS!”

“To be honest, I don’t see Pedri as gorgeous, yes, he’s good looking but-”

“THAT’S ALL WE NEED TO HEAR!”

“Don’t yell!” He exclaimed “And don’t lie! We both know you care for me”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that” He pushes your face away lightly as you giggle “We know deep down, like really deep and really down inside me, I care about you” He hums with a smile on

“That’s all we need to hear” You laugh

“What were you going to say?”

“Pedri” You raised your eyebrows

“My man”

“Stop it” You giggled watching his furrowed eyebrows “He’s not your man” He never liked when you joked around with Pedri, much less he’ll like it now that he knows he’s in love with you

“Sadly, we just don’t see each other in that way”

“Y/N!”

“OKAY! Serious voice, serious face, serious persona” Gavi gave you a look fighting a smile

“He invited us to a party at his house”

“Yeah” You said slowly “Don’t count me in”

“Why not?” You pointed your non-casted ankle but still it was wrapped in some bandages

“I still can’t walk properly” Gavi rolled his eyes

“I will carry you”

“I’m on my period”

“You can spend the whole night sat if you like”

“I’m with a headache”

“Thank god, Pedri won’t put any kind of music on” You sighed

“Pabs” You shook your head “I don’t really want to go” Now, it was his turn to sigh

“I know last time wasn’t that good” You hum looking at your ankle “But you can’t be afraid of each party we get”

“I just don’t want Samuel to be there”

Samuel. Oh dear, Samuel.

You haven’t talked to him since that night, you were mad at him for him to say such things to your best friend, to treat you like that, how dare he? My girl, my treatment? What the fuck?

“Still haven’t mend things with him?” You shake your head

“And I don’t really know if we can mend things this time” You said looking at him “I mean I would love to, I love being with him, he takes care of me, he loves me, he understands me” You sigh looking down at your hands “I don’t really know what’s happening to him lately, but I am willing to give it a try”

“I think you have been the one who gives different tries to it” Pablo said as you avoided looking at him in the eyes. Pablo took a deep breath thinking if he wanted to know the answer to the question his mind had been running on lately “Y/N, do you love him?”

You looked at Pablo, sighing.

Truth was, with Samuel’s actions lately you’ve been more and more distanced of him, you stopped seeing him with other eyes, you stopped seeing him like you used to and honestly you could go on not talking to him for a whole three days, you don’t do that to somebody you love. That’s when it hit you.

You have never loved him and you weren’t even close to it. You made yourself believe you were able to love him when in fact; you just loved the attention he gave you and wrapped yourself into a bubble believing you could escape your true feelings.

Your feelings for Pablo.

When you opened your mouth to answer your apartment phone started ringing, you looked at the number and recognized it to be your mom’s. A huge wind of relief came to you knowing it wasn’t Samuel. You weren’t in the mood to also mute your local phone by throwing it against the wall.

“It’s my mom”

“Y/N, please, answer me”

“You need to go to the party”

“Y/N”

“Go” You said before sighing “Please” You begged a little “Just go, I wanna be alone” Pablo sighed knowing you weren’t going to answer the question

“We’ll talk later” He warned

“We will” You smiled lightly.

The hug and kiss on the forehead that Pablo gave you was one of the most pure and longest ones, you’ve shared in your whole life together.

“I love you, okay? You can always talk to me about anything” He whispered as you nod

“Love you too, Pabs” You said smiling “But you gotta go and get some chick tonight” You faked excitement

“I have told you several times I don’t need some chick when I have you!”

“Yes, yes, yes. Whatever you say, loverboy. You seriously need to get laid”

“I don’t need to get laid. I’m not desperate for it!” He said in disbelief “I have my hand too!”

“ Gross!”

“It’s completely normal!”

“Just shut up, go get some; mom’s calling me” You pushed him a little, smiling and watching a smile appear on his face too, you saw him take some steps towards the corridor when you picked up the phone “Hi mom”

Samuel, Samuel… Pablo wanted to kill him.

What are the odds of finding him in the party anyway?

…

“What the fuck is Samuel doing here?” Pablo whisper yelled at Pedri when he saw that blonde hair, he grow to hate so much these past few weeks

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him in days. I didn’t invited him”

“If you didn’t. How is it possible he’s here?”

“¡Qué no lo sé, tonto! Why would I invite him knowing Y/N is feeling bad because of him?”

“How do you-?”

“She’s also my best friend”

“I came first”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m also her best friend” Pablo’s eyebrows furrowed even more if it was possible

“She-”

“Stop being so jealous, fucks sake!” Pedri complained “Yes, she was your best friend first, joder!” Pablo nodded but still decided to ignore him

“You know what? Thank god, Y/N didn’t wanted to come here tonight. I wouldn’t know what to do if I told her he’s not coming and then” Pablo smashed his palms together “Boom! He’s here”

“Yes” Pedri nodded “Also adding to the fact she can’t walk” He rubbed the fact again at Pablo

“I told her I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt her” Pedri shakes his head

“It’s already done. You” He pushed a finger into Gavi’s chest “Don’t do anything crazy tonight, just relax and forget he’s here, okay? I don’t want to explain to Y/N why her best friend ended up with a black eye and her boyfriend with a busted lip”

“Why do I have to be the one with the black eye?”

“¡Es un decir tonto!” Pedri exclaimed “Either way that won’t look good for you at matches, interviews and anything, people will start whispering and creating stories and el Mister wouldn’t like that”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right” Pablo nodded “He’s not here. He’s not here. I’m not coming close to him, he’s not coming close to me. Each one in separate ways knowing deep down I wanna kill him”

“But you won’t”

“Pero no lo hare” Pablo repeated Pedri’s words. “Everything will be good. I promise, hermano” Pablo smiled at Pedri who nodded

Pablo spent his evening laughing with his friends, eating and drinking a cerveza but he wasn’t entirely happy knowing you weren’t there with him. He understood your reasons but still he missed you like crazy. That’s what he thought about the whole evening, you.

And, enhorabuena, he really did almost forget Samuel was there. He would have done it all the way if he hadn’t seen what he saw. He also didn’t mean to break his promise but his blood was boiling. The vase he was holding broke under his strong hold, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened, his nose sharpened and his whole appearance changed.

Samuel, who was sat outside in the backyard had a girl on his lap, he was touching her thighs and leaving kisses on the girls neck. It got worse when he saw the girl giggle and her grabbing Samuel’s chin to kiss his lips

“¡CABRÓN!” Pablo yelled marching over to where he was, alerting Samuel of his presence, who quickly stood up, color leaving his face

“Hermano, look-” Pablo cut him off with a punch on his face

“How dare you do that to her?!” Pablo roared, serving him another punch “She loves you, estúpido! And here you are, wasting her love meanwhile others are dying for it! You never deserved her, man!”

“Others like you, right?” Samuel threw a punch at Pablo, the lads coming over to separate them but Pablo didn’t wanted to stop hitting him. He wanted to make him feel pain, he wanted to make him pay for all those things he did to you, for the stood ups, for the forgetting, the pains, the cries, the fights, everything.

And he did, he undid himself from one of his mate’s hold and punched him straight in the nose

“PARTY’S OVER!” Pedri yelled “Everyone out, now!”

As everyone left only being left Ansu, Alejandro, Diego, Ferran, Fer and Pedri

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Pedri yells once they are alone

“The motherfucker was cheating on Y/N! I couldn’t stand there and watch him kiss and touch another girl like he only should do with his girlfriend, who by the way, I may remind you is the girl I’m in love with, my best friend and whilst he’s wasting her love, I’m dying for it! I know I took a lot of time to realize that and I still can’t forgive me for that but I absolutely hate and despise cheaters, knowing my girl just got cheated on makes me sick. I couldn’t stand there, watch and not do anything”

“I get it, Pablo. I’m mad as well but still”

“Nothing, Pedri. Nothing! I don’t regret anything!” Pedri sighed shaking his head

“Let’s get you cleaned up”

“I wanna see Y/N, I wanna be with her, I want her to treat me, please”

…

When you open the door, you always expect seeing scout girls selling her cookies to you, some friend or a relative and maybe the delivery guy who was taking too long in come in with your food but those are the things you may expect and are normal to… What is not normal is watching your best friend with an ice pack on his cheekbone with a bloody lip.

“Joder, ¿Qué hiciste, cariño?” You asked as he lightly smiled at you

“Surprise?” You roll your eyes

"Come in, come in" You said opening the door for Pablo to step in "Won't you come inside, Pepi?" You asked watching how the Canarian shook his head with a light smile on

"He's all yours, Y/N" You rolled your eyes smiling at him "Text me how it goes" You nodded murmuring a little 'Will do'

You closed the door turning to face Pablo who was already waiting for you at the couch

You sighed slowly walking towards your bathroom where you had a first aid kit, you made a note to yourself to thank your mom for buying you one.

"Care to share how did this happened?" You asked lightly sitting in front of him grabbing his hand and taking off the ice pack

"You wouldn't like to know"

"Oh, but I'm asking you, aren't I?" He watched how you putted alcohol into a cotton wipe and pulled your hair away from your face, before turning your gaze to his

"Can I start by saying you were right?" Your eyebrows furrowed working on Pablo's lip

"What?"

"Thank god, you weren't there either. Samuel was there" You hum lightly "And he was with another girl"

"Come again?"

"¡Ay! That hurts!" You quickly push your hand away not realizing you left the cotton in his skin and rather harshly, you murmured a few sorry's over and over again. "Don't worry"

"He was with another girl then?" You asked as Pablo gulped nodding "What were they…?"

"She was all over his lap as he was touching her and kissing her" Pablo pushed his head away "I'm really sorry. I found out like half an hour ago"

"Can I guess?" He hums letting you continue "That's why you got in a fight?"

"Had to protect you somehow" You smiled a bit

"Thanks for that then"

"How are you feeling?" He asked looking at you

"Like anyone who's been told they were being cheated on" You shrugged your shoulders "Like... I kind of predicted it, all this time fighting for something so stupid... But still fighting, not entirely making up... and even though I'm not in love with him, it still hurts me, I can cry and at the same time I can throw a party and... I just don't know" You look at him “Mixed feelings”

"You don't love him?" You slowly shake your head

"I don't" You whispered moving to clean his cheekbone "But I hope he's happy" You say watching his doe eyes look at you with intensity.

"I feel sorry for him" Pablo said as you gave him a confused look

“You should be sorry for me, I got cheated on. Not him” Pablo shook his head

"He’s a bastard for cheating on you, you will never deserve that. You’re a queen and need to be treated as one”

“Not at those extremes but still” You shook your head "I'm not taking it to heart, Pabs. I, either way, would have ended it with him. You can stop that" You giggled lightly

"I'm not trying anything" Pablo shook his head lightly “I don’t think you’re getting my point, Y/N”

“I’m not honestly”

“I feel sorry for him because he let go such a beautiful and gorgeous woman not only on the outside but also in the inside. Any man who gets to be with you should consider himself as the luckiest man ever in the world. You just are so wonderful, so precious. You’re kind, lovely, incredibly smart, sassy, sarcastic, fucking positive, always seeing the good side of everything and everyone, selfless, understanding, you’re one of a kind. You love and care for those who you love with everything you have, you’d fight for them, you’d die for them. You need to be loved and cared with the same, if not more, intensity”

“I know you’re independent and that’s so fucking fine, it’s a really turn on” He chuckled in disbelief “But you need a man that can fulfill all of your needs, he was lacking everything and it hurt me like hell because…” He suddenly stopped his ranting

“Because what?” You whispered

“Because I was dying! Wishing to be the one to be by your side, I wished to be in Samuel’s spot, because I’m in love with you!” Pablo exclaimed standing up “I know I messed up back ago when you told me your feelings and I didn’t reciprocated them and it’s because I didn’t realized them at the moment but ever since you left that night my apartment I have been dying on the inside. I wanted to call you, hear your voice, see you, text you and I wanted you to reply, to call me, I wanted you to keep wanting me!” Pablo ran his hands through his hair biting his bottom lip as you could only sit there and follow his moves with your eyes

“I realized my feelings too late, during the WC, you didn’t come and you didn’t talked to me that time so I couldn’t say it back and then in the beginnings of this year, when I finally see you, you threw me off with Samuel being your boyfriend, I saw you be so happy, you were moving on and I was stuck with you” He started pacing around “¡Joder!” He cursed when he passed one of his hands in his injuries.

You gave him the cotton wipe and he grabbed it putting it against his eyebrow

“We were recovering our friendship, you were in a relationship and I couldn’t just sweep in and say: Hey! I realized I’m in love with you” He put on a different voice managing to get a small smile out of you “I couldn’t when you were so happy with him by your side, so I stayed quiet, I loved you in silence during all these past months, seeing him kiss you, touch you, love you were hell for me because I wanted to be the one to do that” He sighed “But seeing him tonight doing that to you whilst I wanted to be in his boyfriend position with you, I saw every color of the rainbow and wanted to throw them at his face” You laughed lightly “I just kept thinking I would never do that to you if you were my girlfriend, hell I wouldn’t even fight you! You say the sky is green? Yes, it is. That cats can drive? They can. That the milk comes first before the cereal? It does. I would care, love and cherish you until the day I die. Not like he did."

He looked at you and you looked at him “Please, say something” He begged

“I say you need another cotton wipe, the one you’re holding has too much blood in it already”

“This isn’t time to act like a nurse, mi niña” Pablo whispered but still decided to give you the cotton

“What do you want me to say, Pabs?” You sighed standing up to be face to face with him, he was still a bit taller than you but nothing too much to make a deal for it, you went to put the clean wipe on his cut but he softly pushed your hand away

“I love you” He said looking straight into your eyes “I’m in love with you”

You were left in silence just looking at him.

You couldn’t process what he was saying. It couldn’t be possible for him to be in love with you. He was just your best friend, even he had said that!

“Please, tell me you’re joking” You finally whispered as you watched his face fall

“I’m not”

“You have to be” You said shaking your head “You absolutely don’t mean that, you are drunk and even mad at what Samuel did and you’re trying to comfort me with that, nice but I won’t fall for it”

“I’m not drunk, I only took dos cervezas during the whole night” He exclaimed

“You’re lightweight then”

“I’M NOT!” Pablo yelled a bit “I do am in love with you. Yes, I’m also so freaking mad at Samuel but I’m not drunk, I know what I’m saying is truth, Y/N”

“I’ll stay single, it’s okay” You ignored his words

“I don’t want you to be single” Pablo whined lightly “I want you to be in a relationship with me!”

“But you don’t want that! You’re saying it just because! You don’t mean any of this!”

“Fucking hell, I’m the one who knows how I’m feeling! And what I’m feeling is love for you and to you!”

“Don’t lie!” You exclaimed

“I’M-!” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath before letting it out “I’m not lying, Y/N, joder! ¡Te quiero, te amo!”

This was too much for you. He can’t just come back after months and pour his love for you as if nothing. You just got cheated on, you realized earlier that same night you were still head over heels for your best friend, he came to your house all beaten up, you treating him up… You couldn’t. You needed to process this.

“I’m… No… I gotta go” You said turning around and walking quickly even if you shouldn’t do it, you needed to get out of there now.

You heard Pablo’s repeated calls of your name as you got out of your house, whimpering a little as the weight on your body fell on your ankle

“I’m not letting you go”

“Please, I need time to think about this. I promise I will talk to you”

“Just like you promised some time ago? You left me waiting five months, Y/N”

“I told you I needed time to myself, to think” You sighed “This won’t be like the last time”

“I feel it can be worse” You whined

“I swear I won’t disappear, I just need to process all of this. I just got cheated on, the guy I told I was in love with him is declaring his love for me right now after he said he could only see me as his best friend, I’m not walking, I’m stressing for Uni and I just need time to think a few hours” You looked up at him “Please, I swear I’ll talk to you. Just let me think”

“Come back to me, please” He whispered as you nodded entering your car. You smiled at him and pulled your window down

“Martín?” He nodded “Te quiero” He smiled

“Y yo a ti” He said as you started driving out of your porch. You grabbed your phone and dialed the one person who could help you with this

“¿Sí?”

“Are you at home?”

“Sí”

“Did you know Pablo’s in love with me?”

“For a very long time”

“Can I come over? I need somebody to talk to, Pepi”

“I’m waiting for you, bonita”

…

“So… Everything he said, it’s true” You murmured. It was halfway past midnight and you’ve been with Pedri for the past three hours

“You didn’t believed him” You took a deep breath

“I didn’t wanted him to just talk because of pity, because I got cheated on, I didn’t wanted him to create that world for to make me or make himself feel better for the fact I’m still in love with him”

“He has never told you this, but he cried when he learned the fact you weren’t going to go to the WC, he cried in his room when he didn’t saw you in the stands after he scored and he cried once more in Arabia Saudi at Supercopa when he saw you being there, whilst changing in the locker room, that day, was the happiest I’ve seen him after your failed confession night”

“Thanks for reminding me it was failed” You both shared a laugh

“He was a wreck at trainings, Xavi even gave him three days off but it seemed worse because all he could do was stare at the pics of the two of you. We already knew he loved you but it was a surprise for all of us when he finally admitted it and it seemed too late. These months he has been at the edge with Samuel, simply watching how you gave yourself to other man meanwhile he knew he had that chance in the past, when you started fighting with him it was worse; Pablo wanted to strangulate him” You giggled nodding

“He told me that several times”

“And tonight was his finish line. He was crying in rage, he felt offended for the fact someone could cheat on you, he didn’t cared the fact he could get a call from Xavi tomorrow, he was repeating I wouldn’t do that to her every once in a while in the car ride to yours. He really does love you, Y/N. It’s up to you if you wanna give him a chance or not”

“I want to” You sighed “It’s all I’ve ever wanted since I was fourteen” You admitted

“Then go and do it”

“I need to do something first though” You smiled at Pedri eating more popcorn

“Yeah? ¿Le darás Mariachis?” You fake laughed

“He wishes I would” You smile shaking your head “It’s something better”

“Bueno, se lo darás mañana. It’s too late for us to be awake”

“Yes, oldman”

“¡HEY!” You smiled

…

“Are you sure he’s in his house?” You ask getting into your car

“Yes, I just left him there” Your phone dinged with another message notification it was from Pablo checking in up on you “…Did you really broke up with Samuel whilst throwing his clothes dentro del charco de agua?”

“I did. I completely ruined his leather jacket” You swiped the notification away

“Eso hurts” You shrugged your shoulders

“He deserved it tho”

“Yes, he did” You could feel Pedri’s smile “Now, go and get your angry bird” You shook your head smiling

“Will do”

…

You have been to his house million times before, but this time could change everything. You even had a key to it but you didn’t dare to use it today. It was really cold in Barcelona; it was raining half an hour ago but you were sweating your ass off. You knocked the door three times, you were even shaking and you looked at the sides over and over

The door opened and you saw Pablo with his lip and cheekbone bruised, his hair wet, some basketball shorts and a simple grey t-shirt

“What are you doing here?” His question surprised you

“Came to talk to you” You stuttered “But… If you don’t want me to, I can leave and-”

“No!” Pablo shook his head “I mean… Don’t leave” He whispered opening the door for you to come in and you did “Want something to-”

“Did you really meant it?”

“Meant what?”

“Everything you said yesterday” You spoke

“I do. Every single little word” Pablo nodded “I really am in love with you and I want you, Y/N. And I’m deeply sorry for everything I put you through”

Instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the face and smashing your lips against his, Pablo quickly kissed you back grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into him

“I love you too” You whispered once you pulled away from him “I want you too and I’m in love with you, Pablito” You looked at him in the eye “I’m sorry I-” This time he cut you off and kissed you and only separated from you when you without meaning to, graced your injury with your teeth

“Joder”

“Sorry” You apologized once more

“It’s okay, kiss me again” You smiled pulling away from him as he chased you “Mi niña” He whined as you giggled

“We need to talk a bit” He hummed leaning to kiss you as you fully separated from him “I’m serious”

“Okay, okay. Got it. Serious voice, serious face, serious persona” You smiled seeing him repeat your words

“You’re an idiot. If you had realized your feelings sooner we could’ve been into this thing months ago, maybe even years”

“Don’t remind me that, please. I can keep imagining it” You smiled softly “You as my very, very-long-term-girlfriend, it sounds amazing, like art. Me as your very, very-long-term-boyfriend, it’s perfect” You nodded agreeing

“I want to thank you for telling me the Samuel thing; I just broke up with him like an hour and something ago… I don’t want you to think I didn’t trusted your feelings for me, well… Kind of. I just didn’t wanted to believe you were making that world and those feelings just to satisfy the fact you didn’t reciprocated my feelings back then but I had the help of someone and I have been deeply thinking of it and I don’t wanna stay single” He smiled “I wanna be in a friendship and a relationship with you too, you’ll always be my best friend, my partner in crime and my everything, Pablo”

“You really don’t know how happy those words make me feel right now” You laughed feeling his arms wrap around you, he leaned down to kiss you when he groaned

“I won’t kiss you again if it’s hurting you too much”

“A simple cut won’t make me stop kissing you, tía. I gotta make up for the lost time” He smiled “This feels nice”

“The what?”

“Having you in my arms, as my girlfriend and best friend. I can’t believe I took so long in realizing I am in love with you” You smiled

“Good news is that you finally did” You kissed his nose “How’s your cheek?”

“I’ve definitely looked prettier than this” You smiled

“You still manage to look pretty, Pabs” He leaned down to kiss you “But we need to disinfect it once more just in case and put on some ice. Doesn’t look that nice” You push your lips out lightly when you feel Pablo peck your lips again “Is it going to date you be like this?” He nods

“Better get used to it” You smile

“I think I can do that”

At the end, you and Pablo always got each other’s back and stayed by each other’s sides ‘cus it has always been you and him, him and you. Since Always and ‘Till Forever.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @ariagonzalezsstuff @gaviswh0re @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

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