#oc: pablo

[pastel-kaleesh]

Ta-da!!!

*dbz eyecatch plays*

[havenroyals]

The once-private lives of doctors are being exposed. Earlier this month, court documents have been making their rounds online. The public records reveal Dr. Tobias Carrick and - now ex-partner - model Mel Anderson are fighting for custody of their daughter, Priscilla.

Insiders from both sides say each is geared up for a messy fight. Today, the former couple will appear in front of a mediator. If all goes well, they could avoid a judge's declaration. However, it seems things are getting worse for Mel.

Leaked photos of the supermodel are circulating the internet. The images expose the model for having an affair with photographer Pablo. The two have worked together on numerous shoots - a handful being Mel's most acclaimed.

Now, is this just poor timing or has the doctor decided to play dirty? Historically, mothers have been granted custody far more than fathers. As a doctor who recently opened his private practice, Dr. Carrick might be deemed unfit for custody of a child as young as Priscilla.

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[sunnixsunshine]

Mock yearbook pages for the fankids/ocs :] they’re supposed to reflect how others see them, but also possible foreshadowing

[mercurys-art]

this is pablo he’s my cringefail loser. i love him dearly

[mutiniir]

Dont know if i posted them here but yea been shipping my boy Pablo with Rick cause i love seeing an unhinged high energy dumbass with a low energy airhead dumbass. Dumbasses in love 🥰

[nimhross]

[lunaandco]

did it have to be him?

pairing: gavi x ofc

summary: emma works as a social media manager for real madrid. her job would be way easier if she didn't fuck barcelona's star boy in her free time

warnings: smut, hate sex, dirty talk, degradation kink, vaginal penetration, use of condoms, madridista ofc (😔)

masterlist // I do not take requests

In a normal match day, after she got home from work, Emma would be rearranging all the pictures and videos she had taken from the game, to post them the day after in the official social media accounts. But today was different. Real Madrid had lost, so she should have less pictures to post, but she wasn't looking through her gallery.

Emma was bent over her desk, her clothes gone and her cheek pressed against the wood, as Gavi fucked her without any semblance of mercy.

Gavi was like a hunting dog. He always smelled the weaknesses in his opponents. Mere hours earlier he was getting under Vinicius' skin with ease, getting him to start blabbering and fighting. Vini was an easy prey, nerves already on fire, Gavi just had to press the right buttons.

Emma sometimes thought that he had done the same with her. He had known, smelled even, her weakness. He saw her as what she was, the most fragile link in Madrid's structure. Her wandering eye, following him when she should have been taking pictures of her own players.

Gavi had known, and he had acted accordingly.

Emma was sure Gavi could find prettier, more convenient girls. Girls that wouldn't enrage his fans, that wouldn't get him in trouble with the club. But she also knew that she had something those girls didn't, the reason he had come back to her.

The power struggle turned him on like nothing else ever could. She could ruin his life, but they both know she would go down with him if she did. Emma was sure that ripping off the free white and gold merch she got from work fueled him with more adrenaline than stripping a random model from an expensive dress ever could.

After the adrenaline high of playing a game like el Clásico, one would thing Gavi would be tame and pliant, but Emma knew better.

They had gotten together after Bellingham's first Clásico. Emma was working overtime in his passenger seat, queueing and programing as many posts as possible, to make sure her absence wasn't noticed. Her club would want to boast the win, and they would not be happy to know their social media manager was not doing her job properly because she was spreading her legs for the enemy.

Emma had been with many men before Gavi, but no one measured up to him, she had decided as she scrambled to recover her clothes, under his careful watch. A part of her wished she could stay a little bit longer with him, but she did not want Ancelotti of all people questioning why she wasn't available during work hours.

For better or for worse, a week after, Gavi got injured and Emma never heard of him again, until today.

Gavi was subbed in for the last minutes of el Clásico, and immediately stole her attention. He was clearly older, even if only a year had passed. His shoulders cut a broader shape, his gaze was hardened. He still got into fights, got his yellow card, but he seemed... more powerful.

And as he passed next to her, to go back to the locker room, Gavi caught her eye, and Emma knew. She knew he would search for her, go back to her studio apartment and continue what they started a year earlier.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you're really into being made a bitch by a Barça player," grunted Gavi above her. Emma whined in response. It was humiliating, it was degrading. But it made her wetter.

"Is that all you've got?" she snapped back. "You didn't even play ten minutes, you can't be this tired."

The response was a hard slap on her ass that made her gasp, and the hand pushing her head against the desk tangling on her brown curls and pulling her up, until her back was pressed to his hard chest.

"You don't want to play this game, corazón," he mocked, his voice warm against her ear. But Emma does. She wants Gavi to really let go.

His hand came up to squeeze her breast, as his teeth found the flesh of her neck. It was one of the things Emma loved about Gavi, that he would take her body fully, like it belonged to him. And maybe it did.

Emma moaned loudly, her body twitching and the orgasm approaching. It hit her like a train wreck, and Gavi, the little shit, kept fucking her through it, until she was scratching at his arms.

"Please, stop. Too much—" Ovestimulation was making everything painful, but then Gavi stilled, filling the condom as his muscles hardened under her touch.

"I'm sorry—" he gasped. He seemed genuinely apologetic that he hadn't stopped in time.

"It's fine," she replied, caressing the skin she had scratched. "It's fine."

💙❤️

Afterwards, Gavi led her to her own shower, gently washing the sweat off her body.

"I really wanted to do this last time," he confessed. Emma blushed. "You don't have anywhere else to go this time though."

Emma smiled sleepily.

"Don't you, though? I heard Flick has military rules in place. How did you manage to come here?"

"That is classified, corazón," he joked, kissing her lips softly. "Turn around, I'm gonna wash your hair."

Emma hummed. She really liked this gentle side of Gavi.

💙❤️

"We could do this again sometime," offered Gavi, as he put on his jacket. They had cuddled for as long as they could, but he had to leave at 5 am if he wanted to pretend he had been at the hotel the whole night. "Maybe when neither of us is under the restrictions of our clubs."

Emma thought about it. Vacation time, with Gavi. Soft kisses, warm cuddles and hot sex. She could get used to it. And as far as Madrid never knew, she would be safe.

"I would like that."

[bloostronaut]

off summer(?) rkgk

he looks so fucking stupid here I need to throw rocks at him

[imaginarycyberpunk2023]

waiting for christmas like

[hydronitrogendioxide2-28]

Offtober best stills

Sauce: pxv. Enjoy!!♡

↓More~~

TH ref:

Probably y'all liked it :-3

[c-0f-chaos]

Off Doodle dorp!!!

There is a good mix of stuff here, some things about it below!

Everyone gets a little octopus because I like them! (I'm thinking of making Elsen with octo my profile picture)

The second is Skater, I'm trying to have a more clear idea of how he acts and all that, now he has a lucky ticket in his cheek all the time

I also played FLOWER by @euclicide , and it's so good, I love it! I'll make another post just about it because I know I'll draw more Nule and Daniel. I thought it would be fun to draw Nule in flower-like cape, I think it looks good!

[pastel-kaleesh]

17's family!!!

I never expanded on the kids, so here goes!!!

Ube: 17 and Yautia's biological daughter, a half-Saiyan with uncontrollable strength and a mischievous and hyper nature!! Likes drawing, playing with Marron, and going to the park

Niko: 17 and Yautia's first adopted child, a clever engineer who wants to work at Capsule Corp when she grows up!! Likes to make gadgets, fixing things, and making smoothies + other tasty treats!! She was rescued from a gang who wanted to experiment with children and due to her knowledge of coding, could escape to a shelter, where 17 and Yautia found her.

Pablo: 17 and Yautia's second adopted child, a partially nonverbal swim team prodigy!! Likes to go snorkeling with the family, especially with his sister Ube, who likes swimming too, participate in swimming tournaments, and play hide-and-seek!! He was born into a neglectful family, who due to his development issues, refused to teach him necessary life skills and provide him education. 17 and Yautia found him on the island playing with a ball and saw that he needed a chance. He has a stilted speech pattern and chose to get his hair styled like Gohan in the Cell Games, after he befriended Gohan.

[pastelskyesblog]

not the first time they got something wrong about our boy Rafi here, his parents clearly has a favourite ugh

[haunted-planes]

I’m taking a nap

[mercurys-art]

ref for my cringe fail stick figure oc pablo.

[thatsdemko]

the culer- j.bellingham

masterlist | pairing: Jude Bellingham x gavi!fem!reader. summary: with the pressure of the match at hand, Jude makes an error that’ll cost him. warnings: fluff + angst + the following events in this fic are completely fictional and are not based on real life events. a/n: I dislike Real Madrid but I love Jude because he played for Borussia Dortmund.. he’ll always have a place in my heart I fear

It’s not like the words “Pablo gavis sister” were plastered against your forehead, so how was he supposed to know? it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, but it certainly wasn’t best when he rounded the corner and hear your soft laugh ring his ears. it was even ten times worse when his breakfast threatened to come up seeing your brothers arm around your shoulders.

you’re squished in between culers, your brothers jersey clung tight against your chest that serves as a major distraction to him. yet, he can’t actually see you. glimpses of you from the tunnel replay in his mind, the ball against his feet should be in the back of the net right now, but he’s stalling.

if he scores, your brother and his team lose. why does it matter to him anyway? this should be an exciting moment here in Barcelona with the crowd booing his name and boosting his adrenaline, so why does he care so much about you?

you’d never had more than just sex. an occasional cuddle and maybe a late night movie cozied up in his bed, but that was it. so you’re unsure why he’s playing with the ball when he’s got a 90% chance of scoring.

“just shoot the damn ball, Jude.” you mutter to yourself. the quicker he gets this over, the sooner the dread and anxiety bubbling in your stomach will fizzle out, and the sooner this is over the better chances your brother or his teammate have in evening the score.

yet there he still stands, unable to decide to shoot or to pass and the crowd wasn’t having it. Jude was usually so quick with his mind, football came easy yet this shot was the hardest one. he knows if he shoots this into the back of the net all chances with you end tonight on this pitch. he knows if he passes, all chances of his team advancing into the next round, end here.

why did it have to be him to decide the fate?

as if on cue, pablo takes the stab. he pulls Jude from his mind games, and decides to end the misery for himself and the crowd. Jude didn’t have much of a reaction time, in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight as the ball was swept from his feet.

“what the fuck man?!” his teammates shout frustrated in his inability to play the damn game.

your nails dig into your palms, watching your brother and his teammate play keep away from the Real Madrid defenders before taking the shot on net and ending the tie once in for all.

Real Madrid lost and wouldn’t advance to the next round.

a smile couldn’t form to your lips. watching Jude’s head hang low, you feel guilty. knowing he’d been riding the highs of the past couple of wins, he should be proud of the fight the team put up today. but those three minutes of torture would haunt him for the rest of his career for every time he saw you.

you.

his head picks up, eyes scanning the mass of fans the sea of red and blue all mesh together. faces booing and others cheering become a blur, but he’s sure you’re out there celebrating. you always expressed how important family was to you, and he was sure your family couldn’t of been happier.

—

you shouldn’t be here. not this late. the match ended hours ago and Jude most likely wasn’t even home yet, but it didn’t stop you from pounding your knuckles against the wood door in hopes he was there. you’re the last person he probably ever wants to chat with, but you needed to check on him. you needed to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up.

you hear the lock click, the door slowly creeps open revealing his dark brown eyes scanning your body. you’d changed into sweatpants in a sweatshirt, a more casual fit than what you were used to wearing to see Jude.

“what are you doing here this late?” his posh accent floods your eardrums, your heart can’t help but thump faster as you move closer to the small crack of the door to find any signs of concern across his face.

“I came to see you.”

“I don’t want to see you.” his bitter words make your heart come to a screeching halt. it’s just the game, you tell yourself, he doesn’t mean these words he’s clearly just upset.

“you played well, ba—Jude. please don’t beat yourself up.”

the door opens up more, like he couldn’t resist. seeing your concern for him mixed his feelings about you. at first, he was done with you. said it was for the best to move on, but seeing you here? with your doe-like brown eyes staring into his, he couldn’t resist.

“I’m the laughingstock of the team now. all because I couldn’t shoot the damn ball.”

“why didn’t you?” the words come rolling off your tongue before you can even process. you’d been asking yourself the question ever since the game ended. why didn’t he just shoot the damn ball? what was stopping him? you couldn’t press the questions in your mind any further when you knew what was stopping him: you. its silly and cliche but it’s the truest that’s been gnawing at him. you were the reason he couldn’t bare to see his own rivals lose.

“I don’t want to discuss this.” his shoulders slumped. he hardly notices you’d pushed the door further and allowed yourself in. he knew your care taking tendencies couldn’t bare to see him this down.

“come on,” you guide him into his bedroom, the curtains are drawn and a Spanish soap-opera plays quietly in the corner of his room. you crawl into his bed and allow him to rest against your body. your nails rake across his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on the black forming bruises.

“you really shouldn’t be here.” he mumbles feeling his shoulders and body sink further into the depths of touch. he hates himself for this, he knows he shouldn’t be falling at the hands of his rivals sister, but yet he can’t stop himself.

“I know,” you say peppering kisses to his throbbing temple, like you knew there was too much pressure there, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, right now I’m here to deal with you.”

“you’re the better gavi, did you know that?” Jude lifts his gaze to meet yours, your lips briefly touch enough to ghost his.

“I did know that actually.”

he may have lost the game, but one things for sure, he didn’t lose you.