#literally i only care about the argentinian players playing well if it means messi’s gonna get a trophy :D otherwise it’s fuck argentina

[laminesyamal]

y’all this might sound blasphemous lmao but… i can’t wait till messi retires from international football so i can stop giving a shit about argentina nt and their racist transphobic asses 💀💀💀

[barce-fabu-lona]

Paulo Dybala Imagine

This is for @girlinmanyfandoms123. Thanks for your request love! <3 I hope you enjoy this. 

Paulo and you have been dating for a long time but you break up with him. Half a year later he comes to your city and wants to talk. A few weeks after you’re at a Juventus game and he scores and asks you to be his girlfriend again. 

I hope you enjoy and I would love if you left me some feedback! <33

A light breeze was blowing through the streets of Milan. Y/N could feel it brushing over her overheated skin, cooling it the slightest bit. She was grateful for it anyways. 

 "It’s so hot.“ Emma, her best friend, remarked. “I feel like I’m burning up. Literally." 

 Y/N chuckled a bit and watched her friend fanning herself with the menu of their favorite café. 

 "I guess you’re just hot like that.” She said, reaching for her drink. 

 A few droplets of water were running down the side of the glass, dripping down onto her thighs and causing her skin to erupt into goosebumps shortly. It was quiet refreshing to be honest. 

 "Haha.“ Emma deadpanned and brushed her red curls back. "Why am I still looking for my Prince Charming then?" 

 Y/N rolled her eyes and touched her now wet fingers to the back of her neck. She was hot as well, sweating in her pale yellow summer dress. The sun stood high in the sky, burning down on them unmercifully. Maybe they should have just stayed home like Emma originally suggested. They could fill the bathtub with cool water and ice cubes and take a bath instead of slowly dying off heat.

 "I don’t know Em, you’re a strong, independent woman. Maybe you have to go and rescue your Prince Charming." 

 Y/N wasn’t looking at her friend when she said that but when Emma didn’t comment further, didn’t even make any kind of huffy sound, she glanced up. 

 Emma’s face had gone pale and for a second Y/N was occupied with being surprised that you could actually look that pale during a hot summer day like this, but then worry kicked in.

She set her drink down and reached over, touching her cool fingertips to Emma’s arm. Her friend jumped.

 "Emma? You’re okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something." 

 Emma tried to laugh but it ended up being some kind of awkward coughing sound instead. 

 "I mean-” She started but trailed off quickly. “- that ex-boyfriend of yours, the soccer player. Do you remember him?" 

 Y/N felt herself tensing up immediately at the mention of Paulo. They had been dating for close to five years after meeting in Argentina during Y/N’s exchange year when she was a teen. Together they had gone through a lot of highs and lows, even managed to keep up a long distance relationship until Paulo moved to Italy in 2012.

Then in 2015 Juventus Turin, one of the best Italian soccer clubs, had signed him and it had all gone downhill from there. Y/N had supported him every step of the way as best as she could, but while Paulo’s fame grew he started neglecting their relationship.

It took a while to break their bond but with all the attention from the media she was getting as well, Y/N wasn’t able to stand strong much longer. Without Paulo to support her she had caved at some point and broke things off, moving back to where she came from. Milan. Her mental health had profited from her decision, her heart didn’t. Thinking of him still hurt.

 "Yeah.” She finally said, clearing her throat to speak normally. “Of course I remember. How could I possibly not?" 

 Emma nodded, not looking at her anymore. 

 "Does he still play for Juventus?”

 "Yes.“ Y/N shifted around in her chair, her thighs sticking to the cheap plastic material. "Why are you asking all those questions? It’s freaking me out.”

 "Well.“ Emma said dryly and placed the menu back on the table. "Because he is coming over here right now." 

 Y/N felt like she might have a heart attack right then and there. Her heart leaped into overdrive and she actually had to hold onto the chair to stay seated. Otherwise she might have gotten up and started running to god knows where. 

She was not prepared for this. She was not ready. She would never be ready.

 "Hi." 

"Oh my god.” Y/N said without really meaning to and slapped a hand across her mouth immediately after.

 Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

 "Ehm- yeah. I’m sorry to bother the two of you.“ Paulo, who was now standing next to their table, said and awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. 

 Emma nodded at him while Y/N was still unable to do anything. She was currently mesmerized by the fact that he actually looked good sweating. Damn those soccer players. 

 "It’s fine.” She stutters when noticing that Paulo was waiting for her to say something. “What are you doing here? In Milan? You should be in Juventus." 

 "I missed you." 

 BAM.

 That’s all it took to break down all those walls Y/N had carefully drawn up around her heart during the last half a year. She had placed brick upon brick, going higher and higher, forcing herself to forget about him, to forget his voice and his smile and his scent, to forget everything about him and now he was here, turning all her affords into dust. 

 "You can’t just do that Paulo.” Y/N snapped, she was fuming now. “You can’t just walk up here and tell me that you missed me. It doesn’t work like that!" 

 "Well, I’m here now." 

 "Right, but you really shouldn’t be!" 

 "Why not?” Paulo asks, crossing his arms across his chest and wow he had built up some muscles. 

 For a second Y/N is distracted again, then she goes back to being angry. 

 "Because it was a very long and painful progress to shut you out Paulo, and it’s unfair to just waltz right back into my life, okay?“

 The young Argentinian is quiet for a moment before his expression softens.

 "Y/N.” He begins quietly. “I don’t want you to shut me out. I never wanted that. I’m not here to judge you and I’m not here to beg for forgiveness. I know you’re probably are better off without me and I see you’re happy but I came to talk. I can’t live with us ending this way, I don’t want that. Not after what we had." 

 Emma clears her throat, making both of them aware of her presence. When they are both looking at her, she shoots Paulo an unimpressed glance. 

 "I’m just here to remind you that you are indeed here to beg for forgiveness.” She says and Y/N has to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“And now I’m gonna leave because you guys have a lot of stuff to talk through. You better start now." 

 The redhead gets up, grabs her purse and nods over to her chair, waiting for Paulo to sit down. The young man awkwardly shuffles over and sits down across from Y/N whose heart is still beating wildly in her chest. She meets Emma’s eyes and gives her pleading glance, begging her to not go but her best friend doesn’t even react.

 A waitress comes over to their table when Emma raises her hand.

 “What can I help you with?” She asks politely. “Do you want another drink?”

 “No.” Emma says sternly. “I want you to keep an eye on those two and make sure, that they don’t leave this table before they’ve figure out their shit.”

 And then she’s gone.

 — One month later —

 When the ball hits the back of the net Y/N screams like all the Italian soccer fans surrounding her. There is an older man with his grandchild standing next to her, the little boy is singing excitedly, bouncing up and down.

 “Did you see that?” He asks, his cheeks glowing. “Dybala scored again!”

 “I did.” Y/N says and high-fives him when he lifts his little hand. “Do you like him?”

 “Oh yes, he is my favorite player. He’s great! I think he’s gonna be the next Messi.”  The boy turns back to the game but Y/N keeps watching him with a smile on her face.

 “Funny.” She says more to herself and then looks back down as well. “He’s my favorite player too.”

 Paulo scores again few minutes later and Y/N can feel her stomach doing funny little backflips when he runs up to the sidelines and waves to her when he spots her standing in the crowd.

A month passed since Paulo came to Milan, looking for Y/N and asking her for a second chance. She had been hesitant at first but agreed to meet him again. After a few normal dates they picked up texting and who was she kidding, she had never really stopped loving him. Their bond was still there and when Paulo had asked her to drive down to Turin and watch the game against Roma she couldn’t say no.

And now she is here, feeling just as bubbly and excited as the little boy sitting next to her.

 “Oh my god! Nonno, look.” He says to his grandpa right then and points down to the field. “Paulo Dybala is coming up here.”

Y/N whirls around and feels herself starting to blush when Paulo jumps over the sidelines and starts jogging up the stairs. Fans start screaming and the little boy next to her is reduced to a hiccupping mess but she can only focus on the young man who is now standing in front of her.

“Y/N.” He pants and quickly pulls her into his arms, hugging her tightly. “I have to be quick but I want you to know that those goals were for you.”

She hugs him back just as tightly, smiling into his jersey. The world slows down around them, everything fading into the background until she can’t even here the fans chanting anymore.

“Paulo.” Y/N starts but he cuts her off.

“You let me kiss you last week and I pray that I didn’t interpret it the wrong way, but I have to ask you something.” He pulls back so they can look each other in the eye. “I’m still in love with you and I want you by my side again. Do you want that too? Do you want to be my girlfriend? Please, say yes.”

Y/N feels like she might lift off the ground and float away if Paulo wouldn’t still hold her in his arms. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows that this will be all over the media later and that fans are probably already making gifs but she doesn’t care. She’s in love as well.

“Yeah.” Y/N whispers and feels herself starting to smile once the words have left her mouth. “I want to be yours again.”

Paulo kisses her in front of the whole stadium, hell in front of the whole Italian soccer world, because the game is being broadcasted on TV but she kisses back anyways. When they part and  he jogs back down towards the field to finish the game, everybody is looking at her but for the first time in her life she doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

When Y/N sits back down her little neighbor tugs on her jacket carefully. His eyes are huge and round, staring back at her in astonishment.

“I’m Anto.” He says. “Will you please adopt me?”