#the muses just find the whole thing quite funny

[feverdreamjohnny]

"Why There Will Never Be a Peeb Adventures" otherwise known as "The Peeb Adventures Pre-Mortem"

Since 2020, I've made a good chunk of games. Hell, even though I've been doing this for 10 years to date, the majority of my progress as a creative began over the course of this 4 year period.

Out of all the games I've made - or otherwise had a hand in - there is only one that's apparently struck a chord so deeply with people that to this day I still get messages and comments asking when it will come out.

The title of this post already explains the whole deal so I'm not gonna be dramatic about it right here. As per usual, I will instead get heart-clutchingly dramatic about the subject by the end of this story.

I felt the idea of a "Pre-Mortem" might be a fun way to talk about games that will never be finished. Maybe I'll make more of these down the line for other old games, who knows.

"The Incredibly True Origins of Peeb Adventures" or "Wow! I Hate It!"

Peeb Adventures began as a gift game for my long-time friend Aaron. It was simple, mostly functioning as a fun little gag that stemmed from a 3D model I made of a character he doodled during a drawpile session. I gave Peeb a grapple hook just because I wanted to experiment with swinging mechanics and felt the gag gift was a great space to toy around in without having to actually ask myself how on earth I'd want to structure a game around a grappling hook. Foreshadowing!

Eventually, the gag gift did that classic thing all developers have experienced before where your game spirals out of control and grows into a hideous monster, and what started as a fairly abstract grappling toy convergently evolved into that dreaded state we call a "3D Mascot Platformer."

I made a very short demo in the summer of 2020. It went absolutely nowhere, and after an idol of mine caught wind and asked to play it (before sending about 3 paragraphs of feedback suggesting how to improve what was, in my view, a trainwreck of baby blocks stacked on top of eachother), I shelved the project.

"The Absolutely Tremendulous HPS1 Adventure of Peeb" or "My Friend Jam Suggested I Revive the Project and So I Did"

Shortly after Peeb was shelved for the first time, I joined a community of game developers called Haunted PS1. For those not in the know, HPS1 was essentially the nexus point for "retro horror games" in the indie sphere, and a lot of the resulting deluge (non-perjorative) on itch.io can find its roots in this community.

HPS1 was a good place. Lots of nice, talented people willing to tolerate the kind of mindless riffing I often do in voice calls, anyway. I made a decent chunk of friends there, some of which I'm still quite close to, even today.

HPS1 has this tradition called the HPS1 Demo Disc that began in 2020, and with the year coming to its end, there was talk of a new one set to arrive in spring 2021.

Unlike the first demodisc, however, 2021's disc required you to submit a game in-progress to a panel of judges. They'd then give their yay-or-nay, and you were either in or out.

One day, I was musing over the fact that I didn't really have anything to submit so I would likely have to sit out of 2021's disc. My friend, Jam, who you might know as the developer of the Heilwald Loophole (or Beton Brutal) suggested I consider reviving Peeb Adventures as my submission to the demo disc.

Why did I follow through on this? I don't know. It's funny to think a scenario this simple was the launch point for my career.

Over the next 6 months, I worked on turning the absolutely horrendous gag game into... Something still kinda trite but at least playable. I had some help from my longtime teammate drurylain, my longtime friend Aaron (the creator of Peeb's original design), and my longtime spiritual uncle Tim, and with our powers combined... A new kind of demo experience where you don't do anything of particular note besides swinging around was born.

Also quite important: the very same drawpile session that spawned Peeb also spawned Orbo, who would also make his own appearance in Peeb Adventures as a recurring side character (since I felt like Peeb needed a friend).

"Go! Incredible Friendship Unites in the Gameosphere! Peeb and Orbo are Born!" or "Peeb Adventures: Coming Never"

So the demo for Peeb Adventures was finished early March 2021, and the demo disc went live on itch.io on the 25th of the month.

The demo disc then proceeded to do a backflip and pick up a LOT of traction online. Which then meant Peeb itself was catching little bits of the traction in its mouth and smacking its lips.

I went from "guy who makes games for nobody" to "guy who makes games for that one very specific brand of teen on twitter who loves the object head show", and I was riding high.

Fanart poured in. People showed a lot of love. I was dazzled by it all, really.

Despite the love for the game and the potential on hand, progress was stagnant. My group of friends and I all got together in a google doc and wrote an entire planning bible for the game. Game mechanics, story beats, twists and turns, the whole thing. Despite having the structure lined up, I had other ambitions and began working on a multiplayer deathmatch game that quickly overtook my work schedule.

Peeb sat on the backburner, but at the time I still wanted to finish it one day. My main excuse was "well, I just need more money! If I'm going to work on this game it's gonna need more than one fulltime person and I can't just ask people to work for free!" That excuse worked on me for a while.

"I Don't Think I Want to Play With You Anymore Peeb!" or "There's Such a Thing as Too Much Love"

A while had passed at this point. My ambitions hadn't just grown, they'd completely shifted. Before long, I found myself working on yet another demo for the 2022 HPS1 Demo Disc, "The Spectral Mall."

Nowhere, MI wasn't just some random toy for me, but the culmination of all my love into one game. Despite its silly demeanor, the game was a product of a lot of pain, and even now I still desperately want to finish it. Except I have to make money to live, so... Oops!

Anyhow, there was a shift in demeanor for me during 2022. You have Peeb, a game that I made on a whim as kind of a joke with friends, and you have Nowhere, MI, a game that meant the world to me during really dark times.

And you know what? There were a lot of people that wanted Peeb. People that never stopped asking me about it.

I realized while working on Nowhere that I didn't really know what I would even do if I ever had the chance to work on the full Peeb Adventures. Not only did I find the nagging kind of annoying, Peeb was also something I couldn't really... Wrap my head around?

It occurred to me that Peeb wasn't really "my" game anymore, it was "his" game. The old Johnny.

I'd changed a lot since the game had come out in early 2021. In a year and a half my world got flipped upside down, and... I don't know, Nowhere was way more reflective of who I was now. Sure the humor was still pretty asinine, but there was a shift. It was hard to picture the "Peeb Adventures" people were actually looking forward to when my own sensibilities had drifted so far.

When the Nowhere demo came out along with Spectral Mall, it did... Alright? People liked it, but it wasn't the same as Peeb's release. Hell, even in Nowhere's release there were people pushing it aside to ask the same question they'd been asking every week leading up to it. "When is Peeb Adventures coming out?"

"Goodbye Peeb!"

It was increasingly harder and harder to not look back at Peeb and kind of hate it. It was rough in every respect, and yet it whenever I met people who'd heard of me online, they always cited Peeb Adventures.

Strangers continue to ask me when it's coming out. On rare occasion I'll get someone asking about Nowhere and I'll feel a bit excited anyone else cares about that game besides me and maybe my friends, but most of the time people just ask about Peeb.

To finally answer this question I've been asked for nearly 4 years: There will probably never be a Peeb Adventures.

"Goodbye Johnny."

I like to believe one of the reasons people are attracted to my body of work is because I make games to reach out to other people. That's probably not the real reason, but it's nice to play pretend and imagine your work has more significance than just "ha ha boner."

I put a lot of myself in my games and I rarely hold back, even if an idea is insanely stupid or strange. The result usually becomes something more like a scrapbook than a game.

It's hard to try and expand on a game like Peeb when the Johnny who made it isn't really with us anymore. If I worked on Peeb now, you'd get some kind of irregular frankenstein that'd never be as exciting as the original vision was.

By the time I get around to Nowhere again, am I still going to be this Johnny? Or will the next Johnny look back at Nowhere the same way I look at Peeb now? Who knows.

Anyway, look forward to more games from me and my friends. Even if it's not Peeb Adventures, it'll still be us.

[writingbynova]

request: meeting nanami @ the bar of your hotel that you’re both staying at during separate business trip. a meet-cute moment that leads into a flirty conversation…👀 I’m sure you know what to do after that.

After Dark

⊹ contents ⊹: Nanami Kento x fem!reader - mdni - pwp - drinking - missionary - doggystyle - fingering - handjob - mutual masterbation - incorrect usage of elevator - praising - overstimulation - unprotected sex - no proofread - lmk if I missed any tags

Wc: ~2.4k

Yall should hit me for how long I let this sit in my drafts but for some reason I could t get myself to like my writing sorry (•᷄- •᷅ ;) Dividers by cafekitsune

Its finally the first night you have for yourself since you've arrived here. And you're definitely going to make use of it.

Although it wasn't the goal. Lord knows you didn't mean it. But you really couldn't stop eying that blonde guy. Ever since he entered the room, the whole atmosphere shifted. He sat next to you at the bar and suddenly everyone's eyes were on you, or him, quite frankly you couldn't tell.

It's the third time he catches you stealing a glance at him and honestly it's hilarious. You're trying your best to act like your phone is that interesting but you can feel his eyes on you, he's sneaky though because every time you attempt to catch him he's coincidentally very interested in his watch...

Well you can both play that game! You turn you head around before immediately swinging it back to him. He definitely wasn't expecting that because he has a startled look for a second before he smiles at you "looks like I've been caught red handed" he laughs, finally turning away from the countertop to face you. His eyes linger on you and you can feel your skin heating up. "Yes you have been, now you owe me." You laugh

"Oh yeah? How about some drinks in exchange of some company and then we'll find the best way for me to repay my debt?"

"Sounds absolutely perfect handsome stranger"

"Haha, I'm Kento, Nanami Kento, pleasure to let you"

As the night settled in, you got closer and closer to him, and he was as perfect as he looked. In all aspects. Maybe even a little more. He had a degree and worked in finances hence he was here on a business trip, just like you were. Had more money than you expected (you realized upon seeing the shiny watch on his wrist). On top of that he was funny and bold in his ways. Leaning down throughout the evening to murmur jokes in your ear over the music. Your seat was so close to his that your thighs touched and you couldn't shake off the desire to lay on his chest. Everything about him was so appealing, So neat and well kept, charming and elegant. So much so that he caught you looking or rather staring at him like in bliss quite a few times throughout the night.

Your eyes practically lit up with sparkles when he gestured for you both to leave. You both walked out the bar after he paid for you both, leaving a tip that had the barman shaking his hand and waving at you both, his hand locked with yours.

You were walking through the hotel's empty lobby. Your arm intertwined with his. No word were spoken but fuck the tension was high.

The elevator taking years to descend only makes things worse... or better. You're almost convinced he can hear your heart beating out of your chest by the way he looks at you. Slightly dilated eyes accompanied by a smile of tipsiness. Like an artist admiring his muse. He definitely looked like he knew his sport but hey, you'd be to discover that later.

The elevator finally opens and he lets you enter first, following behind you. You immediately caught your reflexions in the elevator mirror and you looked like a married couple when standing next to him like this. It's like you've known home forever. As soon as the metal panel closed, it was like the temperature went up a thousand degrees. His body stood next to yours and as much as you tried to act like you didn't notice his eyes visually undressing you, well...it was obvious.

He pressed on his level. 37. And there the ride began. The first 5 levels passed without any 'issue' until the 7th floor. You slightly lifted your head, your eyes meeting his, and that's all it required for his arms to be wrapped around your back, face centimeters apart. Bodies pressing against each other. So close to his heart, so close to him. But he paused. Waiting for the approval in your eyes.

You didn't give it a second thought. Tiptoeing, and stretching your arms around his neck to leave a long awaited soft kiss on his lips. You could taste the addictive and faint taste of alcohol on his tongue, and he definitely took notice of how much you were reeling for it. His hand resting on your hips while the other held the back of your neck. He smiled against your lips before pulling away for a second, letting you catch your breath and by the way, a glimpse of the level you were passing by. 19th.

And before you could even realize it his lips were on yours. Again. Not that you minded it. His body pushed against yours until you felt the cold surface contrasting with your heated core. A passionate burning kiss. The kind that makes your knees weak, he deviated to your neck, kissing and biting on the soft skin. And your hand ran through his hair. Messing up his perfect hairstyle. His knee shifted from its spot, settling between your thighs. Fuck you could feel it all. The ever so slight pressure he applied on your clit had your pussy throbbing in anticipation. You buried you face in his shoulder, breathing in the mix of alcohol and cologne. His arms wrapped around your figure had you giving up all control over yourself. Sinking from the pleasure, right into his arms- DING!

Fucking elevator. You barely had the time to collect yourself before the metal doors slid open and Kento was dragging you out of the elevator. You walked or rather lurched while clinging onto him across the hall till its end. Apartment n 37. Literally across the hall to yours.

His place was nice. Very nice. The large loft had a view over a good enough part of the city, an open kitchen and a corridor that most likely led to where you wished to end the night. Warm light filled the living room and immediately gave a cozy warmth to it. The door hadn't even closed yet and you were back in his arms, sharing a languid but heartfelt kiss. You quickly scanned the room and spotted the couch. We'll it'll have to do for now. You dragged him towards it while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "So eager huh?" He whispered. No answer was needed. A quick glance at your starving expression was enough for him to get the memo and help you out.

His hands automatically held your hips as you straddled his lap. Immediately noticing the bump in his pants "Who's the eager one now ?" You snapped back while unbuckling his belt. He giggled lightly at you antics. "Mhm, I'd say us both ? How 'bout you show me... " He said while his hand held your butt through your dress. "...how eager you are, and, I'll satisfy all that. How's that's sound sweetie?" Fuck. Did he even have any idea of how wet his words were getting you ?

It didn't take too long for his hand to be going up your thigh, and sliding under you wet panties. And you had to mentally fight yourself to not rub your hips in sync with his movements. No matter how fucking horny and desperate you currently felt, you were definitely not going to act like a like touch starved whore. Not yet at least. You finally freed his aching cock from his pants. Taking a moment to look at it. You wrapped a hand around it, taking into consideration it's size. Slowly stroking him, using your thumb to smear the precum already leaking around the tip. You rested your chin on his shoulder as you tried to stay as quiet as possible.

His breath had gotten heavier, jaw slightly slaked open but he stayed focused on you. The skills in each and every nudge, rub, press.

But honestly? How does one get so great at fingering pussy ? So great you didn't realize the whines leaving your mouth and how much you were panting. But he did. Holding down your hips pressing harder on your clit to toy with you. He definitely realized how close you were.

Fuck he knew how to charm. The more he talked to more you drove each other to the edge. His cock was twitching in your hand. Spurts of cum drinking down your knuckles as his thumb relentlessly attacked your throbbing clit. You could feel your eyes slowly rolling back to the feeling of his his hot breath fanning over your ear "that's it, let lose baby" he groaned while you came undone on his fingers.

You're panting heavily, your chest frantically heaving up and down. His hand running up and down your back. "I think I know exactly how to repay my debt sweetie" he says, kissing your neck and looking at you right in the eyes.

You lay down on his bed, head buried deep in the pillow. Clothes have been ditched around the apartment. Against all you were expecting he immediately dives between your thighs. Licking a fait strip of your juices. He works his tongue in your pussy, greedily eating you out. Letting your slick coat his chin. His palms rest on your inner thighs, holding them far appart while he sloppily digs his tongue into you.  Your voice is echoing throughout the room trying to stay quiet was now pointless, you figured that out as soon as his tongue came in contact with your wet sex. The closer you get to your release the more you writhe your pussy on his tongue. And somehow he knows exactly what he's doing. Exactly how to please you. Your nails are digging into the sheets and your thighs are quivering relentlessly. His fingers replace his tongue as he switches to sucking on your clit. Your entire body twitches when you cum. Right on him. He gives your pussy a kiss before pulling away, licking your cum off his fingers. Fuck he's freaky. 

Before you're even able to talk he waste no time catching your lips. You're whining and rubbing against him when you finally feel his cock pressing up against you. You have to push his shoulders back before you're able to get a breath, and protest. "You're still in debt Kento.... please" you whine and you can feel him smiling against your skin. "Mhm, let's fix that"

Damn. He's big. you're stuck on the size. There wasn't anyway he was going to enter you. Long and thick dick with a bunch of veins running up his left to dive under his pink tip. Foreshadowing how hard he's probably going to plow you. "Don't worry baby, just look at me".

The feeling was hard to explain. Overwhelming maybe. That's how it felt. His dick in you. Blurring all your senses, as much as you tried to listen to him your mind was just obsessed on the size and your pussy too busy throbbing and squeezing him for all he has to offer. Each centimeter he drove into you slowly emptied out your lungs. He stopped when fully in. While you gasped for a breather under him. "Shhh I know, I know. Just breathe in baby. Each thrust." He started off with a slow pace, easing you into it, but you can tell he was  refraining himself from immediately tearing you apart. The way he looks at you makes you feel hot all over. And it's only when your mouth parts itself open that you realize he's gradually sped up. Fucking deep into your hungry pussy. The sound of your squelching wet pussy sending shivers down to his dick. His big hand are around your waist squeezing at your plum flesh.

"You feel so fucking good" he hisses, his hips never stopping their ruthless thrusts. You can feel his cock nudging your g spot. "Ah! Kento" you moaned. Feeling yourself grow closer to your undoing. You're barely coherent in your words and there's no point in trying to talk anyway. Because he can tell how close you are. "Fells good ?" So fucking much. You're only able to nod blissfully between your moans echoing throughout the room. His groans send butterflies to your stomach. "Fuck, you're doing so well f'me baby" he groans, slamming his hips into you. You can feel your slowly eyes watering and you wrap your arms around him, moaning his name as you cum on him. Your release sweeping your brain off its rails.

"Debt's not fully paid yet baby. Turn around f'me" he pants.

"F-fuck! There we go" he says, sliding himself into you. Impossibly deeper. You back is already failing and you're slumped into the sheets, ass up in the air. Your right cheek pressed against the pillow. He grabs the top of your thighs, thumb sinking into the flesh of your ass. Backing you into him. Strings of your fluids sticking to him and his cock is already coated with you. The slapping noise fills the room. Just as much as he's filling you. You're gripping the sheets for support. And by laying your head to the side you're watching him thought teary eyes. His jaw is clenched tight and his eyes are slightly narrowed, brows furrowed. His cock is twitching inside you and his moans are growing louder and louder. "Fuck D-dont pull out ken!" You cry out. Turning you face into the pillow desperately trying to muffle your moans.

"Don't silence yourself sweetie. I need to hear—Fuck, all of it." he says in between thrusts. His arms slides under your figure and he pulls your upper body up. His large hand is covering most of your neck and you're arching your back so much. "Tell me all about it baby, wan' me to cum in ya huh?" He grunts lowly next to your ear.

You can tell he's nesting his own release when you feel yours hitting you. "pleasepleaseplease" you mewl. Completely out of reach. His thrust pick up with a semblance of desperation you've never seen in him before. Your face hits the soft cushion of the pillow and  his hand return to grope your hips. Slamming your ass against his hips.

"F-fuckkk there we go"  he groans pouring his release into you.

You're feeling it all. His cum pumping inside you over and over and over again. You're unable to think straight. Unable to think at all actually. You both stay there for a minute. Catching your breath.

"K-kento ?" You mumble while he slowly pulls out. You turn around and he immediately lifts you up, taking you into an embrace. His body is incredibly soft and you're almost taking asleep in his arms. Little stands of hair are out of place and are sticking to his forehead. While it's relatively okay compared to what your makeup must be looking like.

Your mind is stuck in a saw when he holds your chin up and kisses you. It's softer then in the elevator, softer than anything you've ever had. Pacifying all your thoughts. "I believe you're the one in debt now" he smirks.

Thank u for reading ♡♡

PREVIOUS - MASTER LIST - NEXT

[paimonial-rage]

parody - cyno

leftovers from the [random writing event]

“General Mahamatra,” you began one day on a patrol of Ardravi Valley. “Although there definitely are dangerous creatures in Sumeru, I have to say that a lot of them are quite cute, especially in groups. Do you know which one is the most affectionate?”

His brow furrowed in a way that made your heart soar. He was thinking about it! He was giving it honest thought! This was it! This was the moment you’d finally succeed.

“Affectionate? I suppose Shroomboars and Rishboland Tigers do take care of their young…” He mused.

You hummed.

“Well, I suppose so. But personally, I think it’s the fungi.”

His brow raised.

“Oh? Why is that?”

You spun around to face him with a playful grin on your face.

“Well, it’s because they love each other so mush!”

There it was! The punchline! The moment that you spent the past twelve hours waiting for! You set up the joke and he fell for it beautifully. It had everything he could ask for. A good build up! A great play on words. And a performance to boot. And thus here would be the moment. You would finally get him to–

“I see.” He began in thought with a hand against his chin. “You substituted ‘mush’ in mushroom for ‘much.’ Hmm… not even I thought about that.”

After he contemplated your joke for a few moments, your jaw dropped as he then took out a small notebook from his pocket and began jotting who knew what inside. The smile that joyously captured your expression from before soon began to twitch at the edges.

“W-Wasn’t it funny?” You asked hesitantly.

He looked up from his book and nodded with the straightest face imaginable.

“Extremely. I find it upsetting I didn’t think of it first. The whole matra has been getting better at jokes. If I’m not careful, I’ll have my title taken away from me.”

“But you’re… that wasn’t supposed to…” Your shoulders dropped. “Never mind…”

Never did you think a fun bet you made with the rest of the matra would be so difficult. It was such a simple thing too. The first person that got the General Mahamatra Cyno to laugh would have free drinks for a week. Nobody thought it would be that hard. Though he wasn’t the most expressive, he did love terrible jokes. Surely he would be happy to get a taste of his own medicine.

But much to your dismay, your lighthearted jokes only seemed to bother Mahamatra Cyno, as much as he told you otherwise. In the back of your mind, you knew the reason why he held onto jokes so much. He only started telling them to relax the rest of the Matra. Still, you wished your jokes would help him to relax too instead of making him feel like you were trying to take his place.

As he walked on ahead to scope out the rest of Pardis Dhyai, you hurried to catch up to him. One more joke. You would try one more joke until you called it quits.

“Out of all the forest animals, though,” you began. “I think I’d prefer to hang out with the mushrooms the most.”

He turned to you raising a brow, “‘Hang out?’ Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous?”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re just such fungis. You know. Fun-guys?” You added with a wide smile at the end. But just like before, his expression turned to that of confusion, contemplation, then jealousy.

“First, be honest with me,” he began as he took your shoulders with a look of intensity upon his face. “Are you and the rest of the matra looking to replace me as the resident jokester? Because if so…”

He then dropped to his knees, prompting a gasp of shock from you.

“I will not take this standing–”

“What are you doing!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull him back up. “The General Mahamatra can’t kneel before a lowly matra. The ground is dirty too–”

He cleared his throat.

“I said, I will not take this standing.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

You stared more.

He looked right back into your eyes.

“Do you get it? The reason why I sat is because–”

“Yeah, I get it,” you sighed. “Now stand up already, please. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re right,” he said with a nod as he stood. “I must always be outstanding in my field.”

You shook your head as you made your way forward, leaving your boss behind. You did your best to ignore the way frustration filled your gut. The fact that you almost laughed at his lame jokes only served to heighten your irritation. He wasn’t supposed to be making you laugh. You were supposed to be doing that to him. But instead of playing along, he got competitive and decided to one up you instead.

With the wind in your sails gone, you did your best to keep the pout from your lips as you continued on your patrol. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were irritated. With him. And with the way he noticed your irritation and was trying to appease you by burying you with even more lame jokes made your irritation even worse. By the end of the patrol, it was only inevitable that you were about ready to burst.

Thankfully, the General Mahamatra was not so obtuse so as to not catch onto the tension in the air.

“First,” he began at the end of the patrol, “I… apologize. I was trying to make you laugh, but it seems I’ve only accomplished the opposite. Forgive me.”

But somehow instead of calming you down, the apologetic expression on his face only threw you into even more of a frenzy.

“No, that’s not what I– Mahamatra Cyno, you– Why are you apologizing? I’m the one that should be apologizing!” You exclaimed. “This whole time I was trying to get you to laugh, but all I accomplished was making you upset. And then I got mad at you because you didn’t do what I wanted. I was the immature one in this situation!”

He paused.

“You… were trying to get me to laugh?”

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

“Me and the whole matra! At first it was for free drinks for a week, but we do genuinely want to make you laugh. You try so hard to make us feel comfortable, so we only wanted to do something for you in return. But…” You sighed as your shoulders dropped. “Who would’ve thought with all the bad jokes you enjoy telling, you don’t like them getting told to you in return.”

“So that’s why you all were telling me so many jokes this past week,” he hummed.

He glanced down as his hand went to his chin in thought. Then after a few moments, he looked back up with a resolute nod.

“Very well. Then for my fellow matra, I shall make more of an effort to laugh,” he announced.

“You can’t do that! We’ll know if you don’t mean it! We’ll be able to tell!!” You cried.

He nodded. “I see. Then I’ll study more jokes to learn what makes them so funny, then I’ll share them with the rest of you.”

Your jaw dropped.

“But you already do that!”

“If that’s the case… I’ll conduct a study with the rest of the matra to research what they find funny, analyze the findings, then fit them into the framework of my sense of humor. That should solve the problem, shouldn’t it?”

“Why would you– Do you even have the time to do all that work!? You shouldn’t be trying that hard just to make us happy! Besides, we–”

He chuckled.

“First, I’m joking.”

You froze.

“You… That’s not…” You turned away with a pout, ears burning. “That was a horrible joke.”

“But you made me laugh, didn’t you?”

You snorted.

“It wasn’t worth the amount of emotional turmoil you put me through. Wait till I let everyone know that the General Mahamatra’s sense of humor is bullying people,” you announced, stomping away, doing your best to ignore the way he was laughing behind you.

[princessbrunette]

imagine jayj's panic rambling about some stupid lead john b wants to chase next, pacing the floors n practically given you a headache cos he literally hasn't breathed in the last five minutes so you just drop to your knees in front of him to get him quiet - 🍓

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

you could never quite follow with all the pogue adventure stuff. it was alot, and each day brought new details and side quests and it was difficult to keep up with. you knew that if it was a lot for you, it had to be a lot on your boyfriend jj — which became more and more clear as he paced your girly bedroom, repeatedly yanking his hat off to run a stressed hand through his hair.

“and you know me i don’t like to wait — we’re wastin’ valuable precious time that could be spent walkin’ right in there, sticking a gun in their mouth n’ waiting for them to squawk, but no — nah of course john b wants to do the freakin’ logical thing and regroup tomorrow. tomorrow, babe— these dudes are gonna be half way across the ocean by tomorrow, bon appetit— never to be seen again!”

“do you mean bon voyage?” you furrow your eyebrows, swinging your legs as you listen along, sat on your vanity watching the blonde pace your room. he’d only been in your house for a matter of ten minutes, and you weren’t sure he’d taken a second to breathe since he had arrived — ranting furiously about the day of pogue drama and adventure.

“look— whatever, okay— the point is, no one’s listening to me, n’i get it, right? jj’s the crazy one, jj’s always gettin’ himself into trouble— but you know why that is? it’s because i take action.” he pummels his fist into his hand with emphasis. “i’m not gonna just sit here and let these guys get away with this shit, you know?”

he finally looks at you, like expecting an answer and you take the opportunity— hopping off the vanity to step towards him. “i know it’s frustrating, jayj — but there’s nothing you can do right now. everyone’s safety including yours should be the main priority.” you pout. you know he didn’t wanna be lectured by you on being safe, especially not right now but you couldn’t help offer your opinion. plus, as selfish as it sounded you kind of wanted him to drop the whole thing now. it was pointless, really.

“i know — okay? i know. i’m sorry i’m… yeah, i’m just stressed the fuck out. you know how i get. i just kinda find it funny how he— wh… what you doin’ there?” he’s paused in his tracks when you’re suddenly infront of him, nodding intently along with what he’s saying as your fingers pop open the button on his shorts.

you have the audacity to look confused by his question, tilting your head like a sweet lost puppy. “…helping? said you were stressed, jayj?” you furrow your brows, manicured fingers slowly dragging his zipper down before you sink to your knees, looking up at him expectedly.

“you— uh, you were gonna…? right here?” he blinks, his anatomy betraying him as his cock jumps in his pants in muscle memory of you being on your knees. you nod happily, leaning forward with a polite smile, pressing a kiss to his bulge through his pants.

“wanna help.” you muse happily, almost cheerfully and he swallows, taking his hat off for the last time and tossing it onto your bed.

“hey, don’t let me stop you sugar. just… surprised. god damn.” he runs a hand through his hair, the frustration already starting to seep out of his body. you take this as the green light to start massaging his length through the fabric, giggling giddily as you ready him for your mouth.

“just relax now, jj. lemme make it better.”

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

[mtkay13]

Gonna post TWO hoboxus today because I CAN! (still desperately trying to catch up with my twitter posts LOL help I'm terrible at this)

From a meme based on art by KOTTERI, the author of Veil (among amazing other things). Find them on twitter @_K0TTERl_!

More musing below, as per usual! (Be ready it's a LONG one again)

I really hesitated with how I wanted to do this. The original had this gorgeous red poster that seemed like a perfect fit for WKX:

(@_K0TTERl_)

Either I went for the imagery of ZZS wistfully gazing upon the mysterious and eccentric WKX, which would definitely have been more aesthetic and undeniably fitting, or I went the semi-humorous route of channelling the "WKX fell for that ugly hobo and his gorgeous shoulder blades" meme-ified side of their dynamic.

Well, clearly that's where I ended up going, but I feel like explaining a bit.

For me, this picture was three-folds:

First part is the meme; it's kind of funny, kind of ridiculous, and sets the tone of what TYK starts off as; rather absurd, with its reasonable dose of dark humor, and the (at first seemingly improbable) meeting and love story between a silly dying hobo and a strange, suspicious, hedonistic gentleman. It felt thematically appropriate for TYK to twist the original image and put the obviously uglier one on the poster since TYK relies heavily on genre subversion to begin with.

Secondly, there is WKX. So, controversial opinion (/jk) but I don't think WKX was necessarily convinced or even really thought that ZZS was "a beauty" underneath his alleged mask. It was probably a mix of various feelings and teasing/provoking which lead to this joke. First, everything he expresses throughout the book and in extra 4; the fascination for this man who seemed too hide great strength and was of no known identity--who was probably more than what he seemed.

(I'm gonna push it just a little bit ((but isn't that the fun of literary interpretation)), but the "beauty under the mask" is not only physical. It could be a way to say, I think that beneath your raunchy, ridiculous attitude, beneath your gross appearance, beneath the pretense that you're a nobody, that you're a peasant, you're probably someone of great importance and great accomplishments, someone much stronger than you pretend to be--someone like me, perhaps, even. The shoulder blades references are, besides of course WKX *actually* noticing them, the observation of how ZZS moves, of how agile his body is, etc...)

Anyway-- the entire point of this intro is to say that to me, this isn't actually referring to that whole side of their dynamic (or not entirely), but rather to that passage that I am STILL OBSESSED WITH where Wen Kexing recognizes ZZS just from the way he's sitting in a restaurant, and that makes him feel things not entirely positive:

Zhou Zishu stepped into an inn alone. He chose a seat by a window, ordered a few side dishes and a jug of mulled rice wine, and drank it slowly while soaking in the sunshine. As soon as Wen Kexing walked in, he saw Zhou Zishu from behind. He didn’t know why, but he thought that this view was quite special—he could always pick it out of a crowd. Zhou Zishu did not sit with his back straight. Most of the time, he lounged indolently at an angle that looked exceptionally comfortable. Wen Kexing thought that it seemed as though nothing weighed on him; seeing him was enough to ease the heart. Wen Kexing unconsciously halted his steps. He stared at Zhou Zishu’s relaxed silhouette for a while, with no trace of an expression in his face or eyes. His heart swelled with some strange feeling—strange, in that it was no feeling at all. He felt as though this man was mocking him with this wordless posture; he who rushed around for one thing or another, who was burdened with so many cares, yet obstinately put on a devil-may-care persona. Zhou Xu—as carefree as duckweed, he thought, with a body like willow catkins. In all the world, with its boundless perspectives, where could you find someone who walked their path alone and never allowed anything to trouble them? Yet he was not apathetic—he had his joy, his anger, his sorrow—and they came in a flash as quickly as they went. Within the blink of an eye, he had forgotten it already.

(Tian Ya Ke, chapter 18, TL by Lianzi) (have I quoted this already??? If not I should have I love this passage so much)

AND THEN QUOTING ANOTHER PASSAGE (LOL), TL by me this time:

From the moment he'd noticed his shoulderblades, felt this rush of excitement, to when he'd started liking who Zhou Zishu was, when he'd thought——so this is the Commander of Tian Chuang. Suddenly, he'd felt as if he'd met his other self. Both of them, lone wolves caught in a hunter's trap, struggling for freedom to no avail, until they had resolved to coldly gnawing off their own legs in the end. He'd felt compelled to follow him around, watched him, until he suddenly realised—if Zhou Zishu could live like this, then surely, so could he?

(Full passage in this other post LOL)

So yes, THIS. Those two things. That's it. Need I say more? HAH OF COURSE I DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO (help)

More seriously--the way WKX is captivated by ZZS' apparent carefreeness and freedom, all the different feelings (or absence thereof, as he puts it, which I interpret as so distant from what he's used to feel that it almost feels like nothing at all) is what I was going for here.... By not showing his face at all LMAO

The envy, the frustration--the impression of being mocked, but also the longing, how it inspired him to follow along and try to be free like he was.

-cough- yes, so that was point 2 out of 3.

Now lastly, about ZZS himself and my representation of him as hoboxu. I think (?) I've written enough about him that I think I can keep this succint. I love how priest often makes a point of expliciting, in the book, how he's so often smiling, and how he's always incredibly energetic in the morning, as if the night of pain had never happened. I like to think that hoboxu is both a carricature of a ridiculous character that ZZS has fun embodying---but also a liberated expression of his deeper self.

WKX feels like he's mocking him, but ZZS is also mocking himself relentlessly, when he feels like the outside resembles the inside finally, when he feels ridiculous in these new robes, when he allows himself the most outrageous behavior---and then there's mocking life itself, mocking jianghu, mocking everything that he nonetheless deeply cherishes. It's almost... gently mocking, affectionate mocking of everything because his own life has become a joke yet he's still going to enjoy it to the fullest--drinking to his heart's content, rolling in the mud and visiting touristy sites (or so he intended).

In the end... the world is still in his own hands. He chose everything, chose the way he lived, the way he (would have) died and still has the power to dissappear at will--but he stays. Stays and endures what he pretends annoys him, because he can't help himself, because he's ridiculous and is aware of it and may as well have some fun while being so.

I can't seem to ever have enough of this, of this vibe. I wanted to have him laugh at and with WKX, at and with the people seeing him, at and with himself, at and with the narrative.

SO YEAH HAH THATS HUM THAT'S IT. You know what they say, it's only a fun meme if there's an essay behind it (noone says that help 😭😭😭😭)

I hope you had fun reading it and have a nice weeked 🤪

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: ANGST! Idk if it's actually that angsty but I made myself sad. Very very brief mentions of kind of hurting yourself but not really? I actually can't remember what I wrote so if I miss something that needs a warning pls lmk

Word Count: 16.0k (fun fact: if you've read the whole series, you've read 105 pages single space)

A/N: y'all it's literally almost 1 am but I need to start this before I get crucified by the cult following I have created with this series. GIF credit @gavidaily

"You... are considering leaving Barca?"

Xavi looked at you with one brow raised. The same girl that had been fighting for her position at the club just 6 weeks prior was now thinking of quitting her job?

"You know Miss y/l/n, we are about to lose Antonio, and with how hard we push our players, we need to retain the largest amount of medical talent possible. You know that we think extremely highly of you and your ability, which is why you were selected specifically for this role. What can we do to make the job here at Barça more compelling than that of other clubs?”

You took a deep breath. You knew this question was coming. You had worked jobs and been in negotiations before. It would be a lot more expensive for them to hire someone new than to just give in to what they predicted would be a demanded increase in pay.

You looked at your lap, sighing with the weight of the feelings you had carried for God knows how long. It had sat on your subconscious, but was now bubbling to the surface, too powerful to be stopped. “Honestly, mister, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”

There’s a funny thing about women letting go. Some people call it the severance theory. Men are heavily guided by their emotions, contrary to popular belief. In a fit of rage they are capable of anything: screaming, blows - any number of crimes of passion. So when an extreme emotion overcomes them, be it sadness or anger or fear, they can end a relationship suddenly. Once they return to a base state of logic, that’s when the crawling back and groveling begins. Because they come to realize that her absence is a stronger pain than whatever drove him away. They exist in binary states: zeroes and ones. Either hatred or love. They don’t understand gradients or in-betweens. They don’t understand that there is another person who must also decide to return to the relationship.

Women on the other hand are much more resilient. It’s why we find the most gorgeous muses with the slimiest excuses for boyfriends. A woman will fall in love not with what she sees, but rather what she hears. What she is told. All the flowery, lovely promises about a glowning future, that’s what she clings to in the midst of a gray and bleak present. The soft whispers of “I love you” and “I don’t know how I would live without you” act as bandages, plugging the gaping wounds left by his actions. But her resolve slips the longer those promises go unfulfilled. The longer those holes go unfilled. She begins to see the truth of her situation, and realizes that the road she’s skipped down is a dead end. She imagines once again. She thinks of all the possible ways that he could change and be the man she wants. She searches for glimpses of it in his words, his movement, his aura. She does the silliest, most foolish thing a woman can do: she hopes. She holds on until not even her delusions can be a comfort. She realizes that there is no way for her to be happy with this man. That’s when she finally leaves. There’s no groveling, no tears, no remorse. It’s a clean severance of dead weight. She’s empty, and it lightens her being enough for her to walk away. There is no way to save it. The bridge has been burned and she was gone forever.

The funny part was, this didn’t just apply to men. That’s the thing about emptiness: it consumes everything. Loneliness is a black hole that swallows every ray of light that it encounters. That was your life recently. No light and no joy - not even sadness. You couldn’t feel anything strongly anymore. You picked up little habits to try and feel. You heated your food to scalding temperatures just to feel the heat on your lips. Your showers were icy, the pinpricks distracting you from the desire to cry. You no longer felt strong anger or desire or really anything. The color was slowly draining from your life, grays and sepias replacing the once vibrant existence around you. The beauty around you had mangled into gnarly trees and threatening uncertainty as you foolishly waited for the sun to peak through. But it had abandoned you. The sun had taken its rays and warmth elsewhere, almost mocking you as you shivered in the dirt. So maybe it was time to crate your own light: burn down the forest and start anew.

“Nothing? La, that can’t be true Doctora.”

Your eyes shot up at the title. There was, in fact, one feeling that you still sensed: pain. You could still feel physically pain, and inflicted it on yourself often just to experience an emotion. But nothing could compare to the sharp stabs and dull aches that lived in your heart. It was hard to look at Gavi without feeling like you wanted to fall on your knees. Realizing that you were in love was not beautiful or romantic. It was torturous, like snakes and thorns taking home in your throat. Reality was the salt in the wound; the knowledge that you two were destined to fail before you had began was a pill too big to swallow, suffocating you instead.

“If I can be honest, mister, I don’t feel like I belong here at Barça. I’ve been here for six months and I still don’t feel like part of the team. Maybe it’s just not a good environment or fit for me. That’s not something that can be fixed with just a salary increase. I just can’t tell if this is the place for me.”

Xavi looked at you, bringing his elbows to rest on the table and interlocking his fingers. He wanted to adamantly refuse, but there was truth to what you said. It was evident that there was a disconnect between you and the general environment of the team. You were close to some of the younger players, but had difficulty gaining the trust and respect of the older crowd and the medical staff. Your ideas for treatment were too modern - too far removed from what everyone else was used to. Hell, you were upsetting one of his players, and that was the opposite of your job as the support staff. But he would by lying if he said you weren't effective. The plan for Dembele that you had first presented got the striker back on the field weeks earlier than any other predictions. Your diligent maintenance had prevented players from getting injured as often, keeping the ones you were closest to on a strict exercise regimen, ensuring their continuous improvement. He cared for his players and his club. And if you were the miracle cure to keeping them healthy and playing, then he was going to keep you there, even if he had to tie you to the columns of Camp Nou.

"There must be something we can do to keep you. You're very familiar with the players and the equipment, as well as the workflow, and you're very good at your work. Hell, Gavi hasn't even had a cough since you started here, and he's quite accident-prone. Please let me know what I can possibly do to keep you with us."

"I really am not being shy or sneaky. I really have no demands. When then team heads to the UK for the game against Man U, I will visit the Chelsea facility and meet the staff. If I like what I see, I'll be moving there. I'm just... not happy here anymore."

There it was. The confession you had not even made to yourself. You were at the club of your dreams, living everything that your younger self had always wanted, and you just could not be happy. This was a disappointment that was hard to describe. Everyone always talks about shooting for the moon, but no one talks about what happens when you actually make it there. You work hard and your dreams become a reality: you're on the moon! But the moon is so, so far from Earth. And when you're cold and lonely and looking down on all of the people that could be loving you, then the moon doesn't seem so worth it anymore. When you realize the moon is just a rock, then what hope do you have left?

Thinking back, you recalled all the people that you pushed away to further your career goals. You think of the family gatherings and events that you missed to study and work. You think of all the friends you have lost touch with because they were never a priority. They were never smart or driven enough to keep up with you, and so they were left in the dust. You had a few, but none you could confidently say would pick up a call from you at 2am if you needed help. Boyfriends were even worse. Since your heartbreak in college, men had fallen to the wayside. You justified it to yourself, saying that you just needed to be successful, and you would attract someone at your level. Someone who wanted an equal. But here you were: alone, depressed, and thinking of running away from what you once thought was your life's purpose.

Before Xavi could respond, a loud thud from the hallway distracted the two of you, followed by shouts that chilled your blood.

"Gavi!"

You were out of your seat in seconds. There was no force that could stop you, feet and hands moving on their own accord as you entered the hall and laid eyes on the body on the floor. There was no air in your lungs or your larynx to make a sound, let alone scream.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your hearing was shot, like you were underwater. The faces of those surrounding were panicked, and all eyes were on you, shouts and points and calls for action flying straight over your head.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your stomach was twisting itself into elaborate knots, coiling tighter while pushing the bile further up your throat. Your eyes went in and out of focus, willing the scene in front of you to disappear. You blinked hard hoping for the image to change when your eyes opened again.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

"Doctora, please look at Pablo - he collapsed suddenly and we need to make sure he doesn't have a head injury. Move!" It was Antonio's hands on your shoulders and shouts that finally got you to move from your frozen position.

Kneeling over, Gavi looked even worse. His skin was pale, and he was crumpled like an aluminum can - limbs everywhere, like his life force had just abandoned him. You had to remove Gavi from the situation and pretend he was a practice dummy at school. You had to pretend he was plastic and rubber, because that's the only way you could go through head injury protocols with a calm mind. He couldn't be Pablo, because if he was, then the thought would have to fester in your head: Pablo was hurt when you had been distant. He was hurt because you had been distant. Worst case scenario, he could disappear from your life now, all because you hadn't been able to handle the proximity like a normal person. Your thoughts were spiraling now, painting scenarios of death and disease and making it even harder for you to stop the tremble in your hands.

But you had decided that his cold heap of flesh before you wasn't Gavi. It couldn't be. It wasn't even a person. You recited the head injury checklist under your breath: consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. Placing a hand on Gavi's neck, you felt a pulse, stopping you from performing CPR. The last thing you needed to do was unnecessarily crack a rib. You shook him several times, and received no response.

"Shine a light in his eyes!" "Shake him harder!" "Should we pour water on him? Get some water!" "You're not yelling his name loudly enough!"

You ignored the shouts of the peanut gallery, repeating the list like a mantra in your head. You would have time later to be angry at the staff for their utter uselessness in the situation, but right now, you just needed to keep going. Blood was pounding in your ears as you opened one of his eyelids. Consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. It snapped back into place, and Pablo's face was now in view. Other than his pale complexion, he looked perfectly at peace. His face was identical to the night you had spent sleeping next to him - sleeping atop him. His breathing was deep, as if he had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. He was beautiful. And for the first time in days, it had allowed you to be filled with a warmth somewhat foreign to you now. Pablo was in your arms and beautiful, and you could not imagine how you were meant to go on with life seeing him every day and being denied this privilege. You didn't allow yourself to dwell on the thought. Breathing? Yes. Consciousness? No. That needed to be remedied.

"Pablo, if you can wake up now, it would be really helpful. Otherwise I'm going to have to cause you a lot of pain."

You waited for a response, but none came. You sighed deeply, moving your hands from the supple skin of his cheeks downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, exposing the expanse of his chest. You made out the sounds of taunting and whistles, but they were promptly silenced by staff who reminded the crowd that this was not an appropriate moment for jokes. Forming a fist, you placed your knuckles on the center of Pablo's chest, pushing down and rubbing. Hard. His eyes shot open within seconds, and he threw your hand off, howling in pain. His breathing was shallow and panicked, vision erratic as teammates, coaches, and other staff all yelled questions and instructions at him.

"Everybody shut up! Let me do my job."

That was the voice he needed to hear. As the yells settled to murmurs, his breathing slowed and he began to see more clearly. His eyes fully focused on you, and it soothed the ache in his chest. His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt, causing Pablo to grab onto your shoulders to ground himself.

"Pablo, can you hear me?"

You were here. You were real. He could still hold you and feel you. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. The nausea that he had felt before he blacked out still lingered, and the last thing he wanted to do was projectile vomit on you. He flinched slightly at the feeling of your hand returning to his face, but settled quickly, listening hard to your instructions. There was nothing easier than focusing on the sound of your voice.

"Look at me." You said, shining a light in Gavi's eyes, checking for any hemorrhaging or internal bleeding. What a silly request, he thought to himself, squinting under the brightness. How could he look anywhere else when you were in the room? How could he ever tear his eyes from you? How could he waste a single second of you before him, especially with the prospect of you leaving at the end of the month looming?

"No bleeding. Are you experiencing any double vision?"

A headshake no. You instructed someone behind you to grab a bottle of water, and then turned back to Pablo.

"Good. What is your name?"

Gavi swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Pablo Gavi."

"Good. And who am I?"

"Ah don't worry, Doctora. Even with amnesia, I could never forget you." There was that stabbing feeling in your chest again. That feeling that accompanied Pablo's sweet words and kind eyes. The cold shard of reality that reminded you that he would fade away into an Instagram mutual in a matter of months.

"Alright, Gavi. No internal bleeding and no memory loss. We need to go through more of the concussion protocols and make sure you're okay, but we can do this in my office. Are you okay to stand?"

After a curt nod, you helped Pablo stand, and began walking with him towards your office. You informed Xavi of the next steps, and he told you to do whatever necessary to make sure his 'golden angry bird' was okay. But of course, you could never know a day of peace, as each one must be filled with the noise pollution that was Ferran's voice.

"If the door isn't open, just know that Pablito isn't moaning in pain." A round of snickers was heard from both players and staff. But before they had time to add on to the nasty comment, you swiveled around to face the group. You were seething with anger, and one very important realization came to the center of your mind.

You had nothing left to lose.

It was Pablo Torre who was closest to you, and he was the person that received the start of your wrath.

"What the hell are you laughing at? The fact that your teammate could have serious head trauma? Or at the fact that, with Gavi potentially out of commission, they might take you off the bench long enough for you to remember what grass feels like?"

He was silent instantly, eyes wide. He had never received words this harsh from anyone at the club. Or anyone not on Twitter. You turned to two more assistant physios, Luca and Gabriel, who stood next to him, still muttering to one another in hushed tones.

"And you two! Do you want to know why everyone has to rush and get me whenever someone hits their head? Because out of everyone here, I'm the only one that knows proper concussion protocols and how to identify trauma. I have more medical knowledge in my fingernail than in both of your heads combined. I have to take him to my office because you two are incompetent at your jobs! And instead of doing anything useful, this is how you occupy your time: slacking, cigarette breaks, speculating who I'm sleeping with, and doing absolutely jack shit when a player gets injured. So keep giggling like school girls. I can't wait to see you both giggling on the street corner while begging for spare change."

You held Gavi harshly, storming off to your office. Your speed and the bounce was making him nauseous, but he knew better than to speak in this moment. His chest had swelled with pride. He was patiently waiting for the day that you would put the guys in their place. None of them were bad people - it had just been a while since most of them interacted with a woman they didn't want to sleep with. Gavi loved that you were capable of defending yourself, but could not ignore the part of him that wanted to be the one to defend you.

Call it a toxic trait if you want, but Pablo had always taken pride in his ability to intimidate. He had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was done growing at a sweet 5'7, despite his desire to break at least 5'9 (because his friend Hanna at La Masia told him that was the shortest a girl would go for. Looking back, taking this information from a 5'10 female footballer was probably not the best idea he's ever had). It had taken a while, but after weeks of daily affirmations in the mirror about how short Messi was, he held his chin higher. Once he started receiving praise from fellow players, coaches, and media, Pablo gained more confidence in the fact that he could be part of the next generation of great Barcelona football. This allowed him to go up against any player with no worries or fear, winning headers against people with a foot of height on him. Pablo began building his upper body in the gym as well, compensating with strength. A broad and reckless teenager, there was almost no one he wasn't ready to take on.

He sensed that same quality in you as well: a desire to prove yourself, no matter the cost. But he didn't want you to. He never wanted to see you scowl or have to hear you yell (despite it being semi-hot). Pablo wanted to be your knight, whose sole purpose in life was making sure that you never experienced feelings but joy and pleasure. He wanted others to go through him before daring to speak to you. Because how could every person just have access to the beauty that is you? To the radiant soul and shimmering aura that fills the room? How could he be content with you shouldering the burdens of living in this world? Even if he never got to have you romantically, Pablo wanted to shield you from every harm in the world. And not a day went by when he didn't feel it.

This was one of those moments. He wished he was able to verbally berate Ferran for the garbage he spewed on a regular basis, but he could do nothing except let himself be dragged by you through the halls of the sports center until they reached your office, where he was promptly flung towards the exam table. He watched as you brought him your small office trash can, setting it beside the bed. He was brought back to your first month at Barca, when he had challenged you and been proven wrong. There was a confidence in yourself and your abilities that had dissipated from then to now. Pablo smiled stupidly as he remembered the excruciating pain and discomfort of trying not to throw up in front of the pretty physio. If only he had known then that it was nothing compared to the pain of holding back these feelings.

"Lay down on the bed. Look up at the ceiling. If you need to vomit, do it in there." You instructed curtly before moving to sit at your computer. Short nails clicked harshly against the raised keyboard, keys slamming down rapidly, sound reverberating around the room. Gavi wanted so desperately to flip over, lay on his stomach and stare at you. Just to see the curves of your face and the way your eyes reflected the light. But he looked up at the ceiling like you asked, more worried about pushing you further away than watching you type. He took several deep breaths. This didn’t feel like the last time he was concussed. Last time, he had felt his brain rattle against his skull, waves of nausea starting immediately. His head ad throbbed, spots forming on his vision. His jaw was clenched, and he could’ve sworn there was a crack down the center of his cranium, blood oozing out of it onto the practice pitch.

He remembered that day so vividly despite the head trauma. He had been livid, Ferran dragging him to a new and inexperienced physio. Gavi had interpreted it as sabotage to that Ferran could get the left wing back. And then he saw you. Angry that he was he wasn’t receiving treatment by the best, he couldn’t say he was upset to look at you. You were a stunning kind of beauty, young and lively and clad in cool gray scrubs. But you were three years older than him, wildly advanced and talented, and he couldn’t swallow his pride - especially not with this nausea. He could not swallow the fact that you looked so damn familiar. He had seen you somewhere before: those eyes had looked at him with that same distress and concern. But he could not place it for the life of him.

Pablo thought back to how sweet you had been to him that day. How you had encouraged him to take pride in himself and be confident in the fact that he deserved all the success he had seen. He was so overwhelmed that day. His brain was absolute porridge, and he was doing his best for it not to pour out of his ears, all while his cheeks burned under your gaze. He was too preoccupied by his desire to muster one ounce of hatred to replace the overwhelming admiration in his brain that he could not determine where the hell he had seen you before.

And now here he was, once again staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, and the thought came to him again: why did you look familiar? Despite having known you for half a year now, the feeling that there was history had not left him. It wasn't that you had a common face. There was something about the way you looked at him, with a knowing and sadness, that touched a part of his soul. Like you knew things he had never even admitted to himself. While he thought that was just your way of being, he was coming to realize that look was one reserved specifically for Pablo. Now he wasn't nauseous, and focused on the rhythmic sounds of keys being slammed. He poised himself to ask a question, but not the one gnawing at his brain.

"What're you typing so excitedly? Hopefully not your resignation."

You looked up in time to watch Pablo's chest heave with the breathy (and very fake) laugh that he forced out. Your fingers rested against the keyboard, pausing your aggressive typing. How did Gavi know about your plans to leave? Had he been listening at the door? How long had he been standing there before-

"Is that why you fainted in the hallway? Because I'm leaving the club?"

"So you've already decided that you're leaving? You aren't even going to wait until you see whatever shithole you've been offered a spot at?"

There was an emotion that made Gavi's voice wobble, and you couldn't pin it exactly, but it sounded akin to betrayal. You finished the last sentence of your email, the swooshing sound indicating the message had been sent. Pablo bit his lip and stared hard at the fluorescent light. He didn't want you to see the distress in his face, but he couldn't help it. He hated how the dynamic between the two of you had been so warm, so close to the spark he desperately sought, just to go back to how icy your interactions began.

You pulled up a stool to sit next to him, and grabbed a pair of gloves as you approached. You noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and turned away to put your gloves on. The deep sadness in his eyes, the way his body tensed, the voice like a hurt child - was this all because of you?

"I was doing what I should've done my first week working here: I sent an email to HR about Ferran's nasty comments. Barca can't have a sexual harassment scandal right about now, especially not during the transfer window. And if they fire me, then they..." Your voice trailed off, throat closing up. It was still hard for you to process the possibility.

"If they fire me, then that's one less decision that I have to make."

You ran a gloved hand across his crown, feeling for any bumps or lacerations because of his fall. You felt worse the longer you continued the exam, the feeling that this was your fault sinking in. You had pushed Pablo away wordlessly after brining him in so close. But the majority of your brain screamed back at you how selfish it would be to drag Pablo into your black hole, ruining his career so that he could run after a girl who didn't even feel. If the sun in its greatness could not warm you, then how could ask this of Pablo?

"Now we need to talk about your fall in the hallway. It's quite obvious that you fainted but-"

"Were ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to freeze me out until you left the country?"

Gavi propped himself up on his elbows, eyes meeting you directly. You didn't know what to say. You couldn't tell him how you felt, especially not now. Not right before you disappeared.

"Have you ever fainted like that before? What have you eaten to day?" You asked, moving to throw away your gloves. "If you're having frequent spells of losing consciousness, then we need to have your blood iron tes-"

"Are you being serious right now, y/n? You're on the verge of quitting your dream job, packing up and leaving the country, and isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you, and you're asking about my blood iron? No."

Pablo stood, getting off the table faster than someone with a head injury should. He walked towards you, anger evident.

"No. You don't get to change the subject and talk about my iron. Or sit and try and diagnose me with anything. You know that I'm perfectly healthy. Want to know why I fainted? I'll tell you, Doctora."

Gavi was right in front of your face now, heavy breath fanning against your skin. You swallowed thickly, breathing just as heavy as you met his blazing stare. For the first time in weeks, your eyes started to moisten. Why was this scolding from Pablo going to bring you to tears?

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

Pablo was now cupping your face, holding it like it was the only thing that would tether him to the earth. He rested his head against yours, and suddenly it was too much. All the feelings that had escaped you for so long were coming back all at once, stacking on top of each other and smothering you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole to escape Gavi's piercing eyes looking straight through you.

"But you have to know that I don't just see you as a friend, Doctora. You have to know, even if you don't feel the same way, that I am -"

"We met before I got my job here. That's why you recognize me."

Gavi let go of your face, taking a step back. He looked at you with confusion and hurt. You both knew what he was about to say, and he couldn't understand why you wouldn't just let him get it off his chest. And as selfish as it was, you just couldn't take it. Pablo deserved better - someone that would lift him up, not hold him back. And if he said it, if it was out in the open, then you would never be able to put his needs first.

"The week of my interview, I went to pick up Angelika from the club. Angel went to get her from the VIP section and he left me in charge of keeping an eye on you."

"You... were watching me while I was drunk?" Pablo's brain was processing a thousand things at once. You had met him and remembered him? What had he said while drunk to make you hide that fact from him?

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

There were so many ways to answer this question that you didn't know where to begin. How could you explain to Gavi that you had been so captured by his beauty that night that it had thrown you off your axis, making you wonder if you had died and this was the angel sent to guide you to the pearly gates? How could you describe the intense pull Pablo had over you, tugging at your soul, urging you to stay with him? How were you to say the way your heart broke on his behalf, wanting to hold him in your arms and protect him from everything that made him feel less than the most special person alive? All you had wanted was to kiss him, to pull him in, to never let him go. But none of the words materialized. Because to you, the cruelest thing you could do to Pablo was keep pulling him into you. He was pure light, and you couldn't bear the burden of being the one to extinguish it.

"It was an insignificant moment in a club. Nothing worth mentioning. I didn't even remember until Pedri reminded me when I started."

There it was. The sentence that made Gavi crack. You watched the hurt seep into his features, and a heavy air filled the room. Brows coming together, he looked at you expectantly, waiting, praying, that you would take it back.

"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"

Eyes locked, there was nothing you could say that would erase this moment. You swallowed the lump in your throat, playing with your fingers. You spun the ring you wore around your finger, trying to occupy your mind with anything other than the thought that you were the human embodiment of garbage.

The silence remained, growing thicker with each passing second. It enveloped the both of you, tendrils wrapping around and ripping the two of you apart, fraying whatever string of fate had brought you together.

"You think it was just a coincidence, meeting me in the club weeks before we become coworkers? Friends? Something... beyond that...and you think that coincidence was so forgettable that it wasn't even worth mentioning?"

There it was. The cold front that you put up, the one that pushed everyone away, no matter how hot their love for you burned. You were the ice princess, destined to go through life cold and untouchable and alone.

"Some people you just meet, Pablo. It doesn't mean they're meant to be together. I needed to get my friend out of the club and I just ran into Angel. He left me in charge of you so that you wouldn't do anything stupid or childish while drunk. I was in a club babysitting an 18 year old kid who was pouring his heart out to me while wasted. I didn't say anything to save you from the embarrassment."

That was the straw that broke Gavi's heart. He stormed towards the door, unable to look at you any longer. Had he really been lead on; allowed to believe that you were his friend, or at the least respected him, when this entire time you just saw him as a little kid. His last line to you was spoken so softly you almost didn't hear it over the deafening slam of the door.

"They're going to love you in England."

~

"Your English is very good for someone educated in Spain."

You looked up at Steve, flashing a practiced professional smile that showed no indication of offense at the objectively offensive statement.

"Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I did complete my baccalaureate degree in the United States, but I'm glad the last two years in Barcelona have not damaged my language."

Now it was his turn to laugh uncomfortably as he lead you through the garish blue halls of Stamford bridge. The entire plane ride you had told yourself that this could be the fresh start you needed. This could be the opportunity to turn your life around, and so you should approach it with fresh eyes and an open mind. But the walls were hurting your eyes, the blue and white making you think of Martin in his kit. You were lead into the trophy room, which was a lot smaller than you were used to.

"Here you can see some of the club's shining moments. We have had an... interesting season this year, but you know that performance fluctuates between seasons. We hope to be back on top again very soon, especially with an entirely new medical team coming on board."

You scanned the shelves and glass cases, admiring the look of trophies you were familiar with, and ones you had never seen before.

"An entire new medical staff? No one is staying on?" You asked, confused. What kind of club replaced everyone all at the same time? Usually at least one person remained to pass the torch, to maintain familiarity. It set warning bells off in your head.

“Ah, well, many of our staff members were quite loyal to Dr. Henry, you know he was here for 17 years after all. So they all followed him out. But we are excited to usher in a new wave of sparkling young medical talent!”

You swallowed hard, still feeling from the information. You still hadn’t finished your degree, and yet you were being offered a head position at what was supposed to be a huge and well-respected club. You couldn’t help but think of the blaugrana.

Something flitted in your chest, a feeling that surrounded you whenever you walked into the camp. The feeling of family, like you were home. The coldness of Steve’s answer didn’t spark anything close to that feeling. Not every workplace needed to be a part of your heart, a new family. These days. You had no idea what your family was supposed to be, or if you had one at all. Your brain begged you to ask what the environment was like, how close the staff was, what created such a high level of loyalty that they would all follow this man wherever he went, abandoning club and home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, asking instead,

“Do you only display the most recent. Champions League trophy?”

More laughter from Steve, but of the fakest nature. “Yes we have one on this side, one on the other. They’re … ehem, all of our UCL trophies are displayed here.” Your cheeks warmed with subtle embarrassment. You knew nothing about this room or this club, and if you were honest with yourself, you had no desire to. You missed Barca. But you had to give this club its chance – an honest shot to be your new home.

The two of you continued through the halls as Steve showed you all the medical equipment and facilities that would be at your disposal should you accept. At the end, he led you to the players’ lounge, offering you a seat. The blue had given you a baby migraine, and you were incredibly grateful for the ability to sit and rest. You refused the gracious offers for food, sipping on a bottle of water to dull the throbbing against your skull. You searched the room for something, something familiar – a face, a number, to make you feel like everything was going to work out in the end. But it never appeared, the bright colors and foreign faces more of a discomfort than anything else.

"Make yourself comfortable, Doctor. Let me get some of the players that you'll be working with, and you can hear from them what the environment is like."

You nodded sweetly, sitting up straight with ankles crossed in the way Princess Diaries taught you to. As the footsteps faded slowly into the distance, a sigh passed between your lips. What were you doing? Despite the lecture given to yourself on the uncomfortable plane ride over (Chelsea would only pay for economy), it had all gone out the window. Your gut was in knots, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing something wrong.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the screen lit up in your hand to read "One Football: FC Barcelona vs Manchester United - Starting lineup now available." The notification had been pressed before you registered what was going on. Your eyes scanned the list just to land on one name. Your mind went back to the last conversation the two of you shared. The most venomous words had slipped past your lips, and you had finally done it: you pushed the last person who cared for you away. The sentiment was harsh. How could anyone ever recover a relationship after shattering it so completely? Despite how much much it hurt to grip the broken shards so tightly, you held on nonetheless, packing Gavi's hoodie in your bag, the '6' embroidered into the pocket cutting open a gaping wound in your heart, and yet you enjoyed its presence there.

"Doctora, I'm pleased to introduce Kepa and Christian. They have been with the club for a while, and they would be happy to answer all your questions."

~

"A scoreless first half here at Old Trafford as both Barcelona and Man U return to the locker rooms for half time. As we saw Pedri went down in those final minutes of the half, and we've received a report that he is out for the rest of the match. His injury status is unknown, but if the magician is out of commission, this could be a very easy steal for United."

The sounds of fists slamming against lockers was loud enough to be heard all the way home in Spain. Pedri Potter, the star, the leader of Barca's new era, was now in icing his right hamstring in some medical examination room, while the rest of the team scrambled to figure out a scenario in which they would win without him in a mere 15 minutes. Gavi bounced his leg anxiously, eager to see his friend and make sure he was okay.

"Listen up boys. We can win this game without Pedri. The score is now 1-0 to Man U, and all we need to do it score once to tie. Then we are back home, our turf and our fans. Robert, Rapha, your goal is to put the ball in the net. I don't care what you have to do. The middle, you need to get the ball in a good position for these two. That means Gavi, you'll be- Gavi pay attention!"

Head snapping up, Pablo's eyes met Xavi's directly. He knew he should be paying attention - this was the first of several games that needed to be won until they reached a trophy. He needed to be on his A-game, and yet, his mind was drifting. He wished it was just concern over Pedri capturing his attention. But in the corners of his mind, your voice lingered. "Babysitting... insignificant... embarrassment." All words you had used when talking about him as he was on the verge of pouring his entire soul out onto the linoleum for you. He didn't understand the anger that flowed through him. It was a sense of ... incompleteness. If you had let him finish, let him say the words that he didn't fully understand, then he would have been okay. He would have watched as you kicked his beating heart against the wall, telling him that you could never feel that way towards him. He would have been okay: relieved. But you had left him dangling off the edge of a cliff, with no relief in being pulled to safety nor mercy in being allowed to fall.

Xavi gave his instructions to the midfield and the defensive line, going over the weak points that needed to be addressed.

"Pedri is most likely out for the next eight weeks, missing both the next match and the SuperCopa, so this is your opportunity to adjust to playing in high-stress situations without him."

Gavi's head raised fully at this. Eight weeks? It has been forever since someone was out for that long. Since the beginning of the season... since you had joined the team. A pinch in Pablo's chest. His brain repeated over and over that the best thing to do was let you go. To let you be your own person, grow and be independent, saving himself the heartache because the one girl he wanted was the one he couldn't have. Yet his heart held on with an iron grip. It refused to release you, reminding him of every sweet moment shared in cars and offices and bedrooms. It was quick to forget the pain of being perceived as a child. Pablo's heart begged him to wait for you, because it was incapable of letting go of a devotion so intense. His heart ached for you, longing for the day he be deemed worthy enough to love you wholly and completely.

"Eight weeks is insane - we have never gone that long with our midfield handicapped. Is there no way to speed up recovery? Who gave the estimate?" Robert asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Luca is the only one from the medical staff who is here right now. He is the one who made the determination. Of course, the rest of the staff will be free to reevaluate when we return home. But Luca will be the one continuing with the course of treatment, and so we will go with his estimate."

"What? Where is y/n?" The question came from Alejandro, followed by hushed agreement. Even if you were not the first point of contact for all the players, you were a team staple, becoming as familiar to them as the crest embroidered on their uniforms. The older players had watched as you performed medical miracles on their teammates that rivaled what Jesus did for the blind, allowing the team to prosper all season. 15 points at the top of the table, and at least half had your name on them. The youngers had felt your impact directly, following your instructions like gospel. They knew how much care you showed to every single one of them, from the starters to the bench warmers. Your hands had put them back together. A touch of you lingered in all the success achieved, and your absence felt closer to abandonment than anything else.

"You should ask Pablito - he would be the first one to notice that his girlfriend wasn't on the flight." Ferran's voice: the closest human equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. After everything that had taken place, it was a wonder he still had the energy to be an ass.

"Maybe you should ask Ferran about his HR investigation, which is a main reason that she's touring the Chelsea facility fight now. Hey, maybe you'll see her this summer when you get sold there. They're always looking for people to keep the bench warm while the important players are on the field." Gavi spoke calmly and evenly, like he was stating pure fact. He stood, leaving the room to avoid the round of questioning that was about to occur regarding HR and the doctora's new home.

The click of Pablo's cleats echoed loudly in the hallway a she approached the medical room, where Luca was fumbling with bandage and his laptop, while Pedri waited on the exam table like a fish at the market. His head turned at the sound of Gavi's approach, and he gave a weak smile to the younger player.

"I finally pushed it too far. Great timing, eh Hermano? It's only a Champion's League, a SuperCopa, and a potential classico that I'll miss. Nothing significant."

Gavi could do nothing but let out a slight laugh, cupping Pedri on the back of the neck. His heart hurt for his friend. This is what every player dreamed of: playing for cups, winning with the team of their dreams. And Pedri was going to miss all of it because they had relied on him to heavily, asked him to bridge too many gaps.

"Please don't say that word to me ever again. Luca, how's it looking? Eight weeks seems a little excessive for a sprain." Gavi knew that Luca was doing something wrong. Or stupid. Or, the most likely option, both. When Ansu had sprained his hamstring, he was back on the field in 28 days under your care. Alejandro had a minor tear in his meniscus, and yet still he was faster than the speed of sound 6 weeks later. Now there was no you. No melodic voice explaining muscle strain and stride length and tissue recovery. Just a stupid, lanky Spaniard in free Barca merch putting "leg hurts" into Web MD and seeing what he can diagnose with this time.

"Why don't you let the medical professionals do their job, Gavi, and you go back to putting your head in front of peoples' feet."

Looking to quickly diffuse the situation, Pedri turned to his friend, wanting to stop looking at the man who might end his football career with a wrong move and an 'oops'.

"I'll just let y/n look at it when I get back home. She'll fix me up in no time. That is, if you give me one of your spots on her schedule."

"Yeah, that's if she even comes back to work."

Pedri looked at the younger boy with confusion. It had been several weeks since he had seen Gavi with his favorite physio. Initially, he thought the crush had faded - that Pablo had found another pretty thing to maintain his interest, and you had fallen to the wayside with the other failed football loves. But Pablo was so clearly unhappy. He was more irritable, spending more and more time on his phone while avoiding the group all together. He sat silently in Pedri's passenger seat, screen illuminating his face but remaining silent.

[Doctora]: Good morning Pablo - running late. Will bring you an apology smoothie

[Doctora]: im going to need you to send me a video of you tying your shoes as proof

[Doctora]: i'll tell you when i see u tomorrow

Gavi had spent two weeks going back over every message you had ever sent him. He watched the way your tone changed from proper and professional to something lighter, more friendly and familiar. Over and over your voice played in his head.

"Pablo."

Pride be damned. He missed you. As he stood behind his teammates, whispers about the staff still whirling around the tunnel, it dawned on him. Barca, the club of his dreams, the fantasy of his childhood, would never - could never - be complete again if you left.

"And we're back in Old Trafford for the second half of this UCL match between the Historic FC Barcelona, and the red devils of Manchester United."

~

"That's incredible that you went to school there! I'm a ride or die for their basketball team, so you already have my respect."

You flashed Christian a smile - a real one, the first genuine display of joy you've been able to muster in a while. Both of the players had shown a genuine interest in getting to know you, trying to sell you on the idea of joining the club. Kepa had gushed over how much he loved living in London, citing his experiences as a fellow Spaniard.

"You're around so many Spanish speakers at the club, you hardly miss home."

Christian, the more injury-prone of the two, talked about his experiences with the medical team, and the close relationships he had built there. All of the medical team had become family to him in some way or the other. It calmed your previous anxieties. Maybe it was just a fear of change keeping you tethered to Barca, and all you needed was time to adjust.

"I think you'd get along really well with the other players, of course, the ones that opt-in to working with you."

This statement from Christian caught the attention of both you and Steve, who rushed over before you could ask for clarification. Opt-in? How could you opt-in to medical treatment?

"Miss, I think that Kepa and Christian have both done a wonderful job of providing just a small taste of what it means to be part of the Chelsea family. We don't want to keep them from afternoon training."

You said your thanks and goodbyes, but before they left Kepa turned to you, as if suddenly struck with a lightening bolt of realization.

"You're the Barca physio that works with Gavi, right?" He asked in Spanish. "He mentioned a girl physio during international training."

Another knot in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. "Yeah that would be me."

Kepa's face shifted, brows downturned and lips pursed. "Let me give you my contact information, in case you have any more questions." This line was in English, spoken more in Steve's direction than in yours. He approached, taking the phone from your hands and switching back to Spanish.

"Don't leave Barca. Gavi talked about you a lot during the break. They respect and value you a lot there - don't throw that away." He handed the phone back to you as you tried to contain your expression, suppressing the shock you felt from displaying itself on your features. What could Pablo have said that would make this man go out of his way to prevent you from joining this club? What had been so compelling that Kepa worked against his own best interest?

It was now just you and Steve in the room, and you turned to him, his skin flushed, to ask about Christian's little slip.

"There was something mentioned about players opting out of treatment?"

"Ah, just a small clause in your contract. Just says that players can choose not to be treated by club medical staff and find their own if they feel uncomfortable. It's all there in the paperwork somewhere. You can call my assistant if you read over it again and have more questions. Now, I know that you need to go soon, but I wouldn't be able to let you go without meeting one of our new signings. Someone else who knows what it's like to decide to make the shift from La Liga here to the old PL. Come with me."

You rose from your seat, migraine returning from the stress onset. What was being kept from you? Obviously you hadn't read your employment offer close enough. You walked through the passages somewhat mindlessly, following Steve with your body as your mind drifted elsewhere. What was being hidden from you?

"Joao, nice to see you again! This is Doctor y/l/n, and we're trying to convince her to make the same switch from Spain to London."

All of your medical education had told you that the masticator and other jaw muscles were voluntary; that they could be controlled and moved when you wanted. Not today. Your jaw went slack, and it refused to shut as you stared at the Portuguese beauty before you. There was no way. How had you missed the news of his move. How unprofessional was it to say 'pinch me' during what was essentially an interview.

"Nice to meet you, Doctora. I'm quite relieved that I don't have to speak in English - apparently my accent is not as good as I thought."

Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You had yet to say anything or even shut your mouth. Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You laughed lightly at his statement, muscles moving independently of the pudding that was your brain currently. Joao Felix was shaking your hand.

"I'm sorry, it's so nice to meet you, I'm just a little overwhelmed. You're one of my favorite players in football right now. I've been following you since your debut. Oh my God."

It was Joao's turn to laugh, a light and glorious sound. You had made him laugh. You wished someone was recording so you could send the video to Angeliika. And your mom. They would both go into cardiac arrest. His skin turned slightly pink as he scratched the back of his head, flattered by the admiration of someone so accomplished (and, as he would later reflect, gorgeous). Despite not understanding a lick of Spanish, Steve knew he had made a winning move by introducing you to Joao. The two of you leaned into each other as you spoke, and he motioned towards the field, inviting you to a stroll around the turf to chat.

All of your pride and prejudice fantasies were being realized in this moment. You were taking a polite stroll around the grounds with a man that you had salivated over while watching football on TV. A golden boy and future champion. He was something incredible. Witty and charismatic and easy to talk to. Everyone says not to meet your heroes, and yet here you were, floating several inches above the ground beside Joao.

"So, what club are you moving from? Can't be something in Madrid - I would remember you."

Lord, this was too much. You gave a silent thanks to the heavens, all the good karma you had accumulated throughout your life manifesting on this day.

"Oh no, not a Madrid club. Just a small Catalan club called Barca. Heard of it?" You teased as Joao stopped in his tracks. It was his turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed.

"You're the Barca girl physio? I have heard of you! One of the physios at Atleti is your classmate. He said you're crazy smart."

How were you staying alive when all the blood in your body was in your face? How had so many people in the football space heard your name with you blissfully unaware. The smile on your face was not just due to the compliment. Maybe there were people ready to be there for you, and you just needed to reach arm out to them.

The conversation came to a close as you watched other groups come onto the field, preparations being made for upcoming matches. You thanked Joao for his time, once again involuntarily gushing about how surreal this experience was.

"Ah, there's really no need. The pleasure was all mine. I hope that I'll get to see more of you, Doctora, no matter what decision you end up making." Stretching his arm out, pulling you in for a hug. He enveloped you, arms wrapped tightly around your frame in a way that was borderline inappropriate for a goodbye. He smelled heavenly, the warmth radiating from his body akin to a fireplace. This was the stuff of dreams and imagination.

And yet, Joao was not the name on your mind. He way he smelled was beautiful and yet unfamiliar. Your thoughts traveled back to the last hug like this you had shared with someone. To the scent of One Million and powdery deodorant, mixed with something that couldn't be bottled. To the feeling of strong arms sitting lower on your waist. To brown hair and brown eyes and a brown leather couch. To white shirts and white bedsheets. To the soft voice and smooth voice that called for you.

"Doctora."

Logic be damned. You missed Pablo. And then the empty expanse of your soul filled with a feeling of dread. You had made a mistake. So many mistakes. Pushing away Pablo, lying to your friends about how much you needed them. Considering another job. Nothing in the the blue and white had given you even 1% of the feelings you experienced walking into Camp Nou every day. But you would never be able to go back if Gavi was angry with you. Ferran was cattle waiting to be sold. Gavi was a contender this year's golden boy, a powerhouse on the field, a bright star for both club and country. You reached into your bag, staring at his name in your phone. But your fingers shook too violently to press the call button. You remembered the hurt on his features, the way he couldn't even look at you as he passed in the halls. You weren't ready to see [Call Declined] appear on your screen. Instead you rested your phone on your lap, reaching in to retrieve your Chelsea contract.

Obviously, your eagerness to run away from your current life had blurred your vision. On page 22 of 31, there is was in what appeared to be a smaller font than the rest of the agreement.

"Under FIFA and British Football regulation, players may refuse treatment from club-appointed medical staff for any reason, including but not limited to feelings of fear, discomfort, lack of safety, and lack of confidence. Providers will be compensated on a fee-for-service basis, where compensation is scaled based on the number of players consistently treated. Should more than 40% of players request alternative treatment, the club may terminate the contract with the provider before the term of the contract has elapsed."

Your eyes widened, brows knitted together in confusion and borderline disgust. Women in medicine were already at a disadvantage, and that increased tenfold for women in sports medicine. Should the players feel uncomfortable with you because of your sex or age, you could spontaneously be out of a job after picking up and moving your whole life?!

Before you could pick up the phone and tell Steve that he would need to find someone else to fill this cursed position, a buzzing came from your bag. Who was calling your work phone?

"Hello?"

"Good evening Doctora y/l/n, hope that your visit at Chelsea went well." Andreas was Xavi's secretary, and he was the closest thing you would ever get to the cast of The Devil Wears Prada. He was rather cold in the way that he spoke, but never rude. Well dressed and straight to the point - commanding of respect.

"Went very well, Andreas. I got to meet-"

"Mister Xavi has asked for your presence on the flight back to Barcelona to discuss your future with the club. It is of the utmost importance that this meeting occur as soon as possible. So you need to be in Heathrow by tonight at 11pm for check in with the rest of the team."

"But my flight back to Barcelona is tomorrow and I-"

"You'll be fully reimbursed for the cost of changing your travel. We are leaving from Terminal 2. Have a wonderful evening."

Just like that, you were wondering how fast you could pack everything and leave in the next 6 hours when your personal phone buzzed in your lap.

[Pablo]: I know u said u need space but

[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u

[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?

Heart racing, you typed back as fast as you could with trembling fingers, telling him that you would be so happy to meet him, giving him the address of a café near your hotel. You didn't want him to see what your salary could actually afford (since Chelsea didn't cover your travel accommodations). You let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to see you. He wanted to speak with you. He wasn't completely lost.

~

Packing had been fast - you had only brought the essentials to London to avoid paying a bag fee on the budget airline you had traveled. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you let out a deep sigh. What were you even going to say to Pablo? Begging for forgiveness seemed the most logical choice. You practiced your apology in the mirror, and yet froze every time. How would you respond when he asked you why? Why it had been so easy for you to push him away, to strike him down, to make him feel so utterly unimportant to you and your life? You didn't know how you would respond.

Feelings of the heart are often the easiest to articulate. They're not like emotions. Emotions are straight forward: happiness, anger, sadness, jealousy. Things that were caused by one identifiable source, and could be expressed easily with words and actions. But the matters that went beyond feeling, those were the most difficult to understand, let alone communicate. Despite his form, it wasn't lust that drew you into Pablo. Those thoughts had made you breathe heavy and push your thighs together. The glimpses of Pablo's bare form were painted on the edge of your mind, soft skin and hard muscle, inviting you in for a touch, a taste. It was an exciting idea, but not the one that riled you up the most.

No, it was something different. It was a scene that had plagued your mind for weeks upon end, always causing you to wake in a cold sweat with a tightness in your chest, breaths labored. You pictured yourself laying on Pablo's bare chest, drawing circles on his skin as his heart beat rhythmically for you to listen to. As you drifted off, he would place a kiss on the top of your head, running a soothing hand down your spine. It wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him, as he whispered softly.

"Mine."

It was a magnetic pull that Pablo had, a force of nature that you were unable to escape. It could be described as nothing other than desire, like you would make the world stop spinning until the two of you were united. There was a higher force tying you to Pablo, and etched in your bones was a knowledge that you would never be able to leave him. But the sentiments died on your tongue before they could ever take to the air, never to fall on the ears of a certain Spaniard.

As your heels clicked against the city pavement, a sense of calm washed over you. He had reached out to you. There was an olive branch being extended. He was ready to hear what you had to say. Yet upon entering the small space, a different voice called out your name.

"Pedri?"

It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice. You had built up the confidence to come here solely based on the premise that Gavi wanted to see you. Your ego had deflated, back to feeling like utter garbage for the way you had treated the person who, in reality, was your closest friend. Before the self pity could fully sink its claws in, you noticed the full-leg brace that Pedri was sporting.

"I'm sorry that I used Pablo's phone to text you - didn't have your personal number, and it would be a little... salt-in-the-wound-ish to ask him for it right now. Especially since you asked him not to speak to you."

"I never said that!" You exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than intended, causing a couple people to glance in your direction. Pedri escorted you to a table in the corner, offering to go and get you a coffee to fight the chill of a London January.

"No please. It's completely fine. You shouldn't be standing with a torn muscle anyways."

Pedri looked at you inquisitively. He had not seen you in a while, especially with you and Gavi not on speaking terms. He had missed the quips and sarcastic comments he was able to catch during training. He missed the feeling of safety whenever you cared for himself or others on the field, as he knew that you were to be trusted with their bodies. He missed the fire you sparked in Pablo, leading to unparalleled passion and unprecedented performances. The air of natural confidence that you spoke with is what brought the smile to his face. Not hesitation or wobble in your voice. No need to consult a dozen others. Medically, you knew your shit.

"A tear? Luca told me it was only excessive strain on my hamstrings."

A scoff and an eye roll that widened Pedri's smile. "I wouldn't let Luca perform medicine on a Barbie. That's the wrong kind of brace if it's a sprain. It's immobilizing. You need something with compression - a thigh sleeve most likely. Have you been icing it?"

"How could you leave Barca when your successors are idiots like Luca?" His arms folded across the table in front of him as the realization spread across your features. You were acting like his physio on impulse.

"How did you know I was thinking about leaving?"

"Everybody knows. No one could focus on today's second half because of it. When I went down everyone was scrambling to find you and call you. Everyone, myself included, was waiting for you to run across the field, bag in those magic hands ready to come and give me a new leg. But then you weren't there. And I was just praying that Luca didn't schedule me for an amputation."

A shy smile and a breathy laugh. You met his kind eyes, piercing though you. It was surprising when you felt the wetness on your cheeks, registering you were crying only after the tears had rolled down to your chin. He brought his chair in closer, holding your hand, and you held on for dear life. Your tears were falling in earnest now, fat and fast enough to hit the table as you used Pedri as a lifeline.

"Come back to Barca."

"I can't Pedri. I've... I've just made such a mess of everything."

"You're talking about Pablo."

"I'm talking about everything. I have a player that actively hates me and is looking for every opportunity to get me fired. Everyone on the team thinks that I'm sleeping with Pablo. And Pablo - I can't even explain how much I messed up. I told him to stay away from me. To give me space. I don't want space." You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the table. "I just want him to talk to me. When you sent me that message I was so excited. I thought he was ready to forgive me."

"Don't worry for a second about Ferran. We heard about the complaint to HR and I'd be happy to speak on your behalf about the dogshit he says to you. Everyone with a brain knows you're not sleeping with Pablo - they all have so much respect for the work that you do. Dembele came to me after the match and told me to contact you. He said your first assignment for Barca was to work on his leg recovery, and it was the best treatment he's ever had." You raised your head, tears turning your eyes red and puffy as they stained your cheeks.

"This may be selfish of me to say, but I would do anything to have you stay at the club and work with me. I can't miss all of these cup games because the physios don't know what's going on. This is everything I have ever wanted in my life. And if you're the person that can help me get there, then nothing, especially not Ferran and the other airheads at the club, are going to hold me back."

He moved to grab your other hand as well, looking you straight in the eyes. There was not one indication that he was exaggerating his sentiments. He wanted to win more than he wanted to breathe.

"And Pablo? Don't worry about him."

"How can I not worry, Pedri. I was so cruel to him. He'll never speak to me again."

"Doctora, don't you know that there's no one on this earth he holds in higher regard?"

~

The terminal was surprisingly quite busy upon your arrival. It seemed that everyone was catching an international red-eye, causing you to stumble through crowds with your small bag and exhausted demeanor. You approached the airport staff, utterly lost in trying to find the meeting place. It was 10:56pm, and you didn't have the money to be missing the company-sponsored return flight.

"Excuse me, I'm with the F.C Barcelona team. Where can I check in for my flight?"

"I don't remember them becoming a unisex team.'' Your expression remained neutral as the staff member chuckled at his own joke. You didn't have time to give a lecture on the dangers of misogyny. "I need to see your Barca ID."

"I don't have my team ID badge, but if you let me speak to-"

"Don't you women have something better to do than try and fuck a footballer? Lord, you even have a suitcase and everything. I suggest that you go home and stop with these little charades - it's embarrassing."

You stood speechless as the man walked away, stationing himself in a different area of the terminal. Behind you, screams were heard coming from the door, followed by flashes of light in rapid succession.

"Gavi I love you!"

"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"

"Xavi have my babies!"

Your attention shifted to the security guarding the entrance as the Barca squad filtered through the doors, all dressed in coordinated pale yellow. You speed walked towards them, pace catching the attention of one of the guards.

"Miss, you need to maintain space."

Gavi turned to look at the person that was causing a disturbance. Usually it was a child who had gotten a little too excited to see their favorite players, and often the soft spot in his heart compelled him to give them a picture or signature. It was hard to have your dreams crushed as a child by a celebrity that didn't care, and he was determined not to be that type of person. That's when his eyes locked with a pair oh so familiar to him. He stood in place, frozen as his teammates narrowly avoided bumping into him and causing an awful domino effect. It felt like forever since he last looked at you this way: like you were the only person in the room.

"Ah, Doctora y/n, glad Andreas was able to coordinate with you. Sir, she's with us." Xavi's word was law, as usual, and you were allowed to pass through with the rest of the group, ushered to a more private area of the terminal, the screams of fans echoing behind you.

Pablo watched as you stood alongside the coach, chattering away about God knows what. Eric and Pedri were beside him, making conversation about the new additions introduced in the FIFA update.

"Did you know she was going to be here?" Gavi asked, interrupting Pedri's rant about how expensive different skins and expansions were. He had been desperate to see you, thinking of all the ways he might reconcile once he saw you again. But not now. He wasn't ready to face you - not ready to be told 'no' again. For the first time in years, a cold vein of fear ran through him. Was this it? Were you handing in your resignation, coming to Spain only to collect your things before moving to the gray fogginess of the Premier League?

"Yeah. We had a little chat earlier." Say what you want about the IQ of footballers, but Pedri was incredibly intelligent. He himself had given up a career in medicine to explore football greatness. This meant he was smart enough to have deleted the messages that he sent from Pablo's phone before he did his 78th re-read of all your text messages. He was also smart enough to figure out that Gavi had wanted you practically since he laid eyes on you. Contrary to what many may think, Gavi didn't really look at girls. He was usually absorbed in conversation with a friend, whether in person or virtually, and was not prone to looking at every pretty girl that crossed his path. He was hard to please and even harder to impress. So when he started seeking you out more often, mentioning you during random drives, he knew that Pablito was infatuated.

It was several months, however, before Pedri realized the extent of Pablo's affection towards you. It had been during the international break, when Pedri sat and played FIFA with Nico, the only worthy opponent among La Roja. Pablo was half watching the game, half staring at the illuminated screen when he stood suddenly. Pedri watched from the corner of his eye as Gavi stepped out onto the balcony in shorts and his training shirt in the bitter chill of December. When the match had ended (3-1 to him of course), he followed the younger outside, and found him with his phone pointed towards the horizon. The sun in its retirement had painted the sky the most vibrant shades of oranges and pinks, bleeding into a royal purple. The hazy, circular glow kept the sky warm, and the colors stretched out over the wide expanse of the city, painting everything in the golden light of dusk. That's when Pedri heard the shutter click.

"Since when do you take pictures of the sunset?" He was teasing again. It was always fun to rile up his fiery teammate.

"I'm sending them to the doctora. It's so pretty, I want her to see it."

"Isn't she in Barcelona right now? She's probably looking at the same sunset."

"But it's just so beautiful from this high up." Gavi said, eyes still transfixed on his phone as he searched for the most worthy flick to send you. "I just want to send her something beautiful. I want to send her every beautiful thing in the world."

Yes, Pedri was a smart man. Smart enough to see that Pablo's feelings to you were stronger than he had ever experienced for another. Probably the strongest he had ever experienced at all. He was smart enough to approach Alejandro and Ansu, while Gavi chewed on his lip at the prospect of speaking to you, to organize the seating during the flight home.

~

"Don't get too comfortable, Doctora. You'll be joining me upfront for a chat after takeoff." You laughed politely at Xavi as he boarded the plane. You gathered your things, acutely aware of Ferran's gaze on you while you bent over.

"Have a good time at Chelsea? Try and ruin any lives while there?" He asked, voice laced with annoyance. HR had approached him about your complaint, informing him that they would be asking other players and staff about comments made at your expense. While he could keep his friends quiet, he had done too much to piss off Gavi, leaving him vulnerable to everyone in his camp. His only hope was to get you to leave before the investigation had concluded.

"I would prefer we didn't speak about non-professional matters. Thank you, Ferran." You said, smiling so sweetly he felt his teeth throb. You boarded the plane last with the rest of the staff, Luca rushing past you like he would be left behind if he wasn't seated soon. Glancing down at your ticket, you read out your seat number. Row 6, seat G. Walking onto the aircraft, you were stunned by the beauty of the first class cabin. It was furnished completely with plush leather, with every two or three seats getting their own dividers from the rest of the passengers. You walked to row 6, and made your way across the aisle to the right side of the plane where your seat was meant to be. In row 6, seat F, sat Pablo. He looked up at the aisle at the sound of shuffling, and the two of you just stared at one another, wordlessly communicating a shared hurt. All you wanted was to pull him in and say how sorry you were. You just didn't know if he'd be ready to accept.

"Um, I think I'm in the seat next to you." You told him sheepishly. He moved from his place, allowing you to sit next to him by the window.

"I thought the staff usually sits together." He said, trying to prevent it from sounding like a complaint, because it truly wasn't. He wondered what force of fate had allowed your seat to be placed next to his. Little did he know that fate was from the Canary Islands. You sat next to him, adjusting your seat and the belt, before bouncing your leg nervously. The speed increased when you felt the vibration of the engine, watching the plane move from its parked space onto the runway. You wanted to say something - anything - but your throat was dry and the words failed you. You didn't know what to say to ensure that you would be forgiven. That was probably the scariest part: knowing that the forgiveness may never come.

"Are you afraid of flying?"

You turned your head at the question. Gavi's eyes were fixated on your sweatpants-clad thigh as it bounced at incredible speeds. There were many things you were scared of in that moment, but the plane didn't help quell any of them. You were going to be stuck next to Pablo for the next two hours at the least. The anxiety of not knowing how he felt towards you gnawed at your skin, eating you alive. You nodded your head, because in all honesty, it was the same fear, wasn't it? Flying, falling - all terrifying prospects.

Gavi put one airpod in, extending the other to you. It was a peace offering, the olive branch you had waited for. You accepted it graciously, muttering a quiet thank you as you slotted it into place. Your body turned back towards the window, 'Sky full of stars' playing softly in the right half of your brain. As the plane continued to move slowly down the runway, you felt a hand rest atop yours, bringing your bouncing leg to a halt. The skin on skin sent shockwaves through you, electricity running up and down your arm. His hand moved sideways, sliding under yours to lift, and then proceeding to interlock your fingers. The warmth of Pablo's hand, the strength of his grip. The slight squeeze as the plane began picking up speed. Despite lacking the confidence to look at him directly, you peaked at your joined hands. Pablo was here. And through the presses of his fingers and the soothing motion of his thumb, he reminded you that Pablo would always be here, so long as you would have him.

"y/n, Mister Xavi would like to see you now."

You hadn't even realized your hand was still laced with Pablo's until one of the assistant coaches came to collect you. Gavi had drifted off into a light sleep, waking as he felt the cold hit his once warm palm. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to follow the assistant coach.

"Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back."

This was your first time on a plane that had a lounge. The coaching staff was spread across all four sofas, drinking champagne and discussing the efforts from this trip. Xavi sat at a table, an empty seat across from him.

"Doctora, welcome back from Chelsea. Did you enjoy your visit?" He asked, offering your a flute that you politely declined.

"It was wonderful. The staffand players were all great. I'm grateful for the opportunity."

Xavi raised an eyebrow at the diplomatic answer. You were not giving him much of an indication as to your decision. He reached into his bag and extracted a medical file, sliding it over to you.

"As I'm sure you saw on TV and online, Pedri suffered quite a severe injury during the Man U match. Pedri is a key component of our midfield, and Luca has estimated eight to ten weeks for his recovery. I'd like you to take a look at his medical examination report and recommend a course of treatment."

You took the papers in your hand, looking at Xavi cautiously. What was the purpose of this exercise?

"Well, I've already told Pedri that his brace was incorrect, and gave him the specifications for a sleeve to buy once we return home. The eight to ten weeks metric is based on the healing with this immobilization boot. Using the correct compression sleeves and ice, as well as rest, Pedri should be back on in 4 weeks. Five if you want to be safe. That would mean his first appearance back would be the SuperCopa semifinals."

Xavi laughed to himself, collecting the files and returning them to their place. He pulled out another sheet of documents, the words "Adjusted Contract" in bold at the top.

"Doctora y/l/n, it has become increasingly evident as I watch you practice and treat our players that you are a generational talent in sports medicine. You have a deep understanding of the body that few others, both in the club and outside, can fully grasp. At Barca, we strive to do everything in our power to keep generational talents in Camp Nou. I would like you to consider remaining at the club until the summer, when contract renegotiations occur. This would allow you to see out a season that you have contributed so greatly to."

"Why the new contract now then?"

"Just a few clause adjustments. Firstly, we have increased your compensation to absorb your living costs. Those will now be covered by the club. The other change is on this page here. It states that your main focus must be on starters, injured prioritized before healthy. So, if you choose to accept, Pedri would be the top priority as an injured starter. You would dedicate all the necessary time to his treatment."

You scanned the document, and it was just as he said. No other nonsense, just the clauses on compensation and prioritization.

"This is all so flattering sir, but..." Your voice trailed off, shy to speak in front of a legend and the man holding your future in his hands.

"What can we do to make this deal irrefutable?"

"The contract is perfect sir. What I would need is a promise from you. Chelsea's base compensation was higher, but the compensation was based on the number of services the medical staff provides. I could be fired at any moment if not enough players were comfortable being treated by me. I felt, or well rather I didn't feel the sense of loyalty, of family, that I get as Barca. And so I would need a promise from you."

"Name your demand."

"When the summer comes and my contract needs to be renegotiated, keep me on the team. Don't try and pawn me off to someone else. This is my team, my club, my family. So you have to promise me that I have a future here, or else I'll save the heartbreak and leave now."

Xavi placed a pen on the table, bringing his chair forward to be as close as possible to you. "Doctora, you are an incredible and frankly priceless asset to us. We were able to hand select you from the best of the best new physios in Spain. Our successes, any trophies and titles, we owe them in part to you. Help me finish the season with a strong and healthy squad, and I swear to you on my life that you will have a place at Barca until the day you die." He stretched out his hand, and you took a deep breath, meeting the shake midway. It felt weird, signing your contract again, but for more money. You definitely didn't expect to be in this position before you've even graduated, but it brought a pride to your soul. Xavi saw something in you. A generational talent. Somebody believed in what you could do.

You returned to your seat and found that it was Gavi's turn to bounce his leg. You sat down, and he followed you with his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Very much so. I got to meet Joao Felix."

Gavi's face turned to you, catching the beaming smile that broke out across your face.

"Yeah? You like him in person, or was he a disappointment?"

"He was less... dreamy than I had anticipated. But still sweet nonetheless. It was a cool experience."

Gavi responded with a hum, turning his music back on and looking away from you. His other airpod sat on the tray table, right where you left it.

"Pablo," it was your turn to rest a hand on his bouncing leg, "we have to talk."

Pablo turned to you, eyes sad and lip between his teeth. "Do we? I feel like you've said everything there is to say." He knew he was being difficult. He knew he was being petty. But Pablo could not let himself get hurt again, especially not in front of the entire team. If he was going to mourn your departure, it was going to be in the comfort of his own guest bed, the one piece of furniture he could sleep on for 7 continuous hours because it held no memories of you. It was your turn to find his fingers and slot them between your own.

"I didn't mean it. Any of it. I have so many reasons why I didn't mention meeting you, Pablo, but I'm just not brave enough to tell you yet. It wasn't because it wasn't important. It could never be. You are one of the most important people in my life. You're one of the only people I have left. Please don't push me away."

His eyes met yours, and he knew there was no way he could remain angry. It was you, after all. The person that made Pablo believe in the possibility of a soulmate. The one that Gavi thought of whenever songs about incredible love came up on his playlist. You were it. He gripped your hand tighter.

"Going to be hard to support you from several countries away, but I will try my best."

"You don't have to. I'm staying."

Gavi's eyes widened, face lighting up like a kid who had just been gifted an entire candy store. "You're staying?"

"Mhm. Barca is my home. My family. No matter how bad it gets, I could never leave this place behind." It felt as though you spoke those words right into his soul, breathing life back into his very being. You were staying. Your voice, your laugh, your energy - all of it would be at Camp Nou, waiting on the sidelines as he fought tooth and nail to capture your attention. "And plus, Pedri and Xavi basically begged me to come back so Luca doesn't have to treat him."

Gavi let a laugh fill his lungs and spill from his throat, maybe a little louder than necessary on a midnight flight. But he was feeling genuine joy course through his veins. He was a man on death row with a second chance at life. He removed his hand from your grip, bringing to above you and resting it across your shoulders. Professionalism be damned. He just wanted to be close to you right now.

"Xavi was more convincing than Joao? I bet that would be a blow to his ego if he found out." It was comfortable, sitting with Pablo in this way. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. You pushed up the hand rest so that the two of you could get even closer. Professionalism be damned. They wouldn't fire you while Pedri was still limping.

"Oh yeah. Portugal boy is cute, but Xavi in 2010? That was my first love. I could never refuse a request from him." More giggles from Gavi. You wished you would bottle this moment, eager to make his happiness perpetual. He was human sunshine, and he deserved every light and happy and beautiful moment life could offer.

"The spiky hair? Really?"

"Shut up!" Coupled with a smack to the chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion of the day and its stressors finally catching up to you. "Every man looks hotter when carrying a trophy."

Gavi let out a light laugh, turning to hide his blush. Yet another motivation to lift as many cups as possible this season. He offered you his other airpod again, which you accepted, inserting it as a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness.

"One day, we'll need to talk about it properly, you know." Pablo said from above you, voice soft and serious.

You nodded your head, letting out a quiet "Mhm" in a agreement. You knew it was an inevitable conversation. You would have to eventually face the music, let Gavi free himself from whatever feelings were sitting on his chest. But you couldn't do it now. Not with your future up in the air. Not with your feelings for Gavi still a massive tangle of emotions.

"Not tonight." You said to him softly, as he turned his head to meet your eyes.

"No, not tonight."

Your eyes finally closed and you began drifting off. Pablo's arm remained wrapped around you as he leaned in closer, basically cuddling you on this plane. Thank the lord for blessing the engineers with enough foresight to install dividers. As you breathed rhythmically against his chest, he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing deeply. Why was everything about you so intoxicating?

In the haze of your sleep, you heard Pablo speaking to you. You listened intently, hoping to catch these special words that he only released to your sleeping form.

"Doctora, I would wait for you forever. Even when you hit rock bottom, I'll be there, waiting for you with a ladder. You will always have me, no matter what."

~~~~~~~

A/N: Guys I did it!!! My longest part to date! I am so flipping tired. It's 4am. I don't remember a time before I started writing this part. Anyways, we are chugging along y'all! Only two parts left in the main story!! I surpassed my 15k word goal. Maybe next part is 18k? I think the next part is going to be my favorite. I haven't decided if I want the big boom pow event to be in part 9 or 10. We will see. Again, apologies for the long time between updates, but semi-decent writing takes time. As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! If you notice any easter eggs/ small details, feel free to point them out!!! There are so many and I love when y'all get them. IDK when part 9 is coming out but when it's done y'all will be the first to know. Ok love y'all byeeeee.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738

[exactlyyoungchaos]

till forever falls apart.

bestfriendSimon x F!Reader

Part 2.

CW: Character death, trauma, angst, inaccurate military stuff, fluff, probable smut, mental health issues. Proceed with Caution!!!!!

(not proofread, it's 4.30 in the morning here)

It's been five months, six days, twelve hours, and counting since you reunited with Simon in that cafe. Life has been great since then.

He has changed a lot, he's quieter, more gruff, and talks through grunts only. he had scars both physically and emotionally, but you didn't care about any of that. He was your Simon, the only boy you ever loved.

he told you a lot about his life after you left, his job, his teammates his scars, but there were still many things to know and love. You told him stuff about your life, and now that you had him again, all you had was time. to live your life and grow old with him.

he promised you that this assignment would be the last one, after that, he was all yours.

you didn't want him to quit something he loved. but all he said was "It's bout' time love. I have you now, I don't need anything else."

The day you sent him off was very emotional for you. you had just met him again and didn't wanna let him go. You wanted to stay with him.

It was lonely after he left, it felt like somebody took oxygen away from you making it hard to breathe again. His letters and short calls were the only things that kept you from spiraling into depression but you pulled through, just for him.

now you were waiting for his return eagerly. This was the last time you'd ever have to. After this, it was just you and him.

You hadn't heard from him in a few days but you knew he would return today. You cleaned the whole apartment, made his favorite meal, and wore his favorite dress of yours to welcome him.

you were still fussing over the food as your doorbell rang. your heart skipped a beat in excitement. why is he ringing the doorbell? you mused as you went to open the door. Maybe he lost his keys or something...

You opened the door. " welcome back, Si...." but confusion slammed into you when you realized it wasn't Simon but his captain John Price, standing in his full glory.

It was easy to recognize him after Simon had shown you so many pictures of him and his teammates.

"Captain? What are you doing here? Where's Simon? he didn't tell me his team was coming too but it's alright..."

"love" he cuts you off in a soft voice, eyes full of emotion.

That's when you see it, the dog chains in his hand. The same chain Simon had around his neck. You look at him and understanding dawns on you.

"I'm so sorry, luv," he starts

but you stop him.

" No. this isn't funny Mr. Price. Where is he? Where Simon?" you asked harshly.

your heart was beating out of your chest, your vision got blurry.

One look at his face and it all came crashing down.

No, no, no, no. This isn't happening. you kept chanting in your head as Simons's words came back rushing to you

"This's the last one lovie, after that, it's you and me."

He wasn't gone. he can't be gone. you just got him back.

You felt the world tilting on its axis and suddenly two strong arms held you up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" a soft voice whispered above you. You didn't care about any of that.

He was gone. Simon was gone. Just like that.

You felt John sitting you down on the sofa and he knelt in front of you.

you looked at him. looked at the man who came to tell you that your future would not be here anymore.

"How?" is all you managed to get out. Simon wasn't a rookie, he didn't make mistakes. He was The Ghost.

"Took the bullet meant for Soap," he told you softly.

Soap. you knew that name, but none of it was registering.

Simon is dead. He left you. Permanently.

you can't sit on the laptop and stalk every Simon in the world in hopes of finding yours. he was gone. the one person you gave your whole life searching for, is gone, not coming back.

why? why did this always happen to you? you never asked anything from anyone, never meant bad for anyone. never cursed anyone, then why?

Why would the universe do this do you? take the one thing that kept you going all these years. Do you not deserve it? was your destiny cursed like this?

you gave everything up just for him, sacrificed everything, your life, your innocence all to just find him and when you finally did, he was taken away from you.

why was this world so cruel? what have you done to deserve this? Is this a sign? your life was over now. was this the end?

tears kept coming out of your eyes as you sat and stared at the wall. you didn't scream or shout. just sat there and willed that this nightmare would be over. but it didn't.

John sat there, in front of you, looking at your state. Simon told him all about his bird. That he found her again.

"Gonna lock her down Cap'n, the second I get out of here."

But he didn't make it out. John failed him, he failed his team. Now that he stared at your faraway gaze, he realized that he failed you too.

but none of that mattered to you. You couldn't feel anything but everything at the same time.

you were numb but every part of you ached for something that's gone. Claws were ripping your insides out. Your heart ripped out from you. You were bleeding inside, and all of the wounds you had acquired over the years that were not on your skin were open and throbbing.

and no one was to blame.

It was in the lines of your hands and the scroll of your fate to never have something you want. You hoped and prayed that this time it would be different. But it wasn't.

everything you touch becomes sick with sadness or death. you weren't worthy of any grace by the universe.

so it took away the only person you ever called yours. The only one who knew you for who you are. what you are.

He was gone, all that was left of him was the memory of his faint chuckle and the crinkle in the corner of his eye when you said something ridiculous, the rumble in his chest when you hugged him, the feel of his lips on your own, his clothes in the closet that you shared and the house that was in his name. nothing else.

you had nothing else anymore.

UHMMMMM!!! HIII! THIS IS I. ALI. AND I APOLOGIZE FOR THE HURT CAUSED BY THIS.

I hope you guys liked it. I'm still writing part 3 of Loml. so enjoy this in the meantime.

I'm struggling with where to take this story next. Do you guys have any ideas? if you do, please suggest them in my inbox. And do tell me if you want to be tagged in the next part.

Thank you so much for reading!!!!

Until next time!!!

ALI-💋💋💋

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait im sorry if like youve talked about this before but what is everyones roles in the fantasy au 👁️👁️ or jobs?

i've just Thought Aloud in bits and pieces but hey. i feel like talking today so i'll put it all in one place with Updated Thinkings

(i like to imagine that they all kinda Quit their initial jobs/lives to go adventuring with each other, either by choice or... not. except Howdy, who's a multitasking king). the Neighborhood party earns their wages by completing jobs/quests, though some of them have minor supplemental ways of adding to the coin collection

Wally, of course, didn't really have much of a Before. he didn't intend on becoming a warlock/wizard - that choice was kinda made for him by the circumstances of his existence. but Wally had to pretend to be a wizard for his own safety, and wizards have a sort of societal expectation to be Helpful and Magical and Wise and Existing For Public Service. so while Wally would have rather just been a painter, he's obligated to be a wizard - that's technically his role/job. within the Neighborhood party, he's a bit of a distance fighter/support! he doesn't really do the whole up-close / physical aspect of battle, though he technically knows how. He casts spells from afar, which tend to be widely benign. artsy little cantrips and inconveniences to make it harder for the enemy to fight. he's also a bit of a bloodhound - illusions don't trick him, he can "see" most magic, and he's really good at getting around unnoticed. if they're stuck somewhere, Wally can probably get them out

Barnaby's "job" before going adventuring with Wally - it started out as just the two of them! - was just working on the farm with Ms. Beagle, where he had been his entire life. Sure he'd sometimes do public performances/acts in town, which would earn him extra coin, but that was more of a paying hobby than anything (a paying hobby he will Continue) in the Neighborhood, he's... uh. their cheerleader? that's not entirely inaccurate! he's not big on combat or effort i'd reckon, so he prefers to just keep morale high. offer background music, funny commentary, jokes to lighten the mood, mediate tensions, etc. if necessary, he makes good backup - he has his illusions of course, and he Does pack a mighty punch if need be! he's also very helpful when retreating - he can grab the smaller party members and run

Wormie is the group mascot <3

Sally was a bit lost before joining the party - i like to think that she was constantly on the move as part of a traveling theater troupe, but she wasn't the star or director. she was just part of the group, uninspired and with a full well of untapped potential. one day she up and left (dramatically) to find her own inspiration/muse & path to stardom, which ended up being several years of wandering until she happened across the budding Neighborhood and went "this! this will be the source of my stories!" as for her role, she's a bit of an everyman. front lines fighter, entertainer, mediator, etc. she views herself as the party "leader", or rather, their Manager. she keeps the party entertained with stories, and bolsters their reputation in the same manner. in a battle she's a bit of a powerhouse - her light magic is useful both in combat and entertainment! she keeps a "book" of the Neighborhood's exploits (she swears it will be edited/published someday) holy shit she's moominpappa, and in their Extended downtime she writes and throws plays inspired by their adventures at their home base (town).

Eddie was still, originally, a mailman. or i suppose in a fantasy setting - a courier! until one day he saw a group of people being attacked by some bandits, managed to fight them off, and immediately got roped into helping rescue the folks' entire town from the bigger group of bandits. then they told others about Eddie's help, they wanted his help too, one thing after another and now he's got a full set of armor, a sword, a shield, and his whole thing is saving people. huh? how did that happen? he was delivering letters a month ago! if i had to give him a title... i'd say he's a Protector! he seems like the type! he always has his fellow adventurer's backs - i bet he has his hands full trying to cover everyone at once. outside of combat, he's still very helpful and does whatever is asked of him / needed. collecting firewood! pitching tents! stirring soup! getting Frank to remove a centipede from camp! in downtime he probably takes small bodyguarding gigs. he also is a minor healer - he took some sorta oath for some sorta god (or virtue) that he can't remember, but he has minor healing/cleansing powers. he's also good at sniffing out evil & dark magic! some would joke that he's the party's guard dog

Frank was raised in a monastery that believes in "using your body to fight for the greater good". this was not his job when they became old enough to actually Act on his training! nah they ran away in his mid teens because they wanted to fight things on his own terms. also they want to study bugs more than anything, which he does! for a long time! then they meet a certain princess, befriends her, and helps her run away. he only joins the Neighborhood because Julie wants to, and it's a good way to travel - read: study more arthropods - and earn coin. fighting is a bonus aspect Frank's role is... front line fighter, bookkeeper, and the Guy Who Knows Things! what monster are they dealing with? what are its strengths/weaknesses? Frank probably knows! can they afford a room or two at an Inn? Frank knows (no, they cannot)! who's throwing themself into direct mortal danger with gusto? it's Frank! no but really, Frank is like their resident nerd who can beat pretty much all of them in hand-to-hand. in downtime he probably has a garden purposefully full of plants that can be left alone for long periods of time... maybe they sell half the things grown for extra coin!

Julie, of course, was a princess! that was her whole job! it was incredibly boring and restricting, so she ran away with the help of a funny nerd. after that her whole life was just "avoid getting recognized while figuring out how to live in a world without the comforts/ease of castle life". i'd think she much prefers her new one! as a role, Julie joins Barn and Sally in the "entertainment category". while they entertain with humor/stories respectively, Julie goes straight for games and activities to fill the lull between action. keep the blood pumping, spirits high, and bonds Solid! camp games, road games, locked-in-a-dungeon games! in combat, she's on the front lines with her oversized sword. i think another fitting role would be "navigator" - she can ask plants for directions! technically Julie is a secret powerhouse. her flora magic is insanely powerful, though she prefers not to use it for several reasons

Poppy, i like to think, did indeed have a bakery. it was well-loved in her community, her staff were wonderful people, and it all burned down in a night due to raiders. luckily for Poppy and her town, Eddie was nearby and got on the case to get rid of their problem - maybe Poppy felt obligated to help in some shape or form, and Eddie wound up inspiring her to learn healing magic. She moved into the town that would become the not-yet-existing Neighborhood's HQ to try and restart her business, but it just wasn't the same, and she had gotten a taste of what it would be like to directly save/heal people Poppy is the party's cook, healer, and ultimate voice of caution! the most she'll do in battle is sprint into danger to drag an injured person to safety for healing - she doesn't have a combative bone in her body i'd guess! does she enjoy being in the Neighborhood? eh... it's stressful and terrifying, but she couldn't live with herself if she let them all brave the wild without an adequate healer OR an adequate cook. i like to think that she saw the state they were traveling in and went "oh no"

Howdy, of course, has his tavern! it's a popular hub for travelers, townsfolk, pretty much anyone and everyone. of course it helps that it's the only tavern in town! the only reason Barnaby managed to convince Howdy to join the Neighborhood on one of their jobs is because Howdy realized that he can widen his net & sell to new people On The Go. finally, a use for that magic backpack collecting dust in his room! Howdy got a taste for adventuring and joins the Neighborhood every once in a while, usually only for shorter jobs - he doesn't want to be away from his tavern for too long his roles are support, professional haggler, sarcastic commentary. he doesn't have a crumb of magic in him, but he's clever! he's learned how to make his own support items - including his fancy revolvers with magical crayonsbullets. Howdy rarely fights, choosing to watch over his pack, dole out items when needed, and listen to Barnaby's running commentary. when it is necessary that he join in on combat, he can usually clear the playing field in a matter of moments. he's skilled with both the revolvers and using his own items - he's a one man four armed army!

Home's job is "keep Wally upright and powered". they prefer to be an observer in all situations, even after their existence becomes common knowledge to the Neighborhood. the most Home will do is nudge Wally in the right direction or alert him to something important. Home's literally just hanging out behind Wally's eyes w/ a bucket of popcorn. unless something happens to his beloved little puppet, in which case Home becomes the biggest baddest bitch around and sends everyone else to the bench

tl;dr: Wally: support fighter, magic geiger counter, escape artist Barnaby: entertainer, backup Wormie: mascot Sally: storyteller, fighter, Manager Eddie: protector, minor healer, "paladin" Frank: bookkeeper, fighter, scholar Julie: activities director, navigator, fighter Poppy: cook, healer, overthinker Howdy: tavernkeeper, inventor, support Home: just keeping an eye out

[summercreolefanfictioner]

would you like to find out pt. 2 (diabolik lovers modern college au)

pairing: ayato sakamaki x yui komori (feat. kanato and laito)

summary: everything started with a reckless, "I wanna know how it feels like to date."

themes: mostly humor with mentions of nsfw

note: part 1 here

Ayato absentmindedly playing and picking on his food was a rare sight, and it irritated Kanato as it ruins his appetite first thing in the morning. He had been doing it since the whole blonde-dream-girl-he-met-at-a-party-run-off-from-him-the-next-day-after-they-had-sex fiasco. Of course, he endured his brothers teasing him to no end, saying how he got dumped for the first time after a one-night stand (because it was rare; like hello, Ayato Sakamaki, the IT boy of Ryoutei University, the infamous college basketball champion.) It wasn't until the jokes don't sound funny anymore and Ayato wasn't eating takoyaki that Kanato and Laito believed this girl must be some serious shit.

And Kanato, being the prick he is, decided to stab his bacon and eggs so loudly in the morning, uncaring if Laito was staring between his older brothers awkwardly. While the concern was there, Kanato can't help but get irritated at Ayato's constant wistful and hopeless romantic longing.

Ugh. Love and all the neuro-shit.

"U-Umm..." Laito started, feeling Kanato's patience slip away, "Ayato-kun, aren't you going to eat-"

"Let him starve himself over some girl who dumped him," Kanato cut in, the stabbing motions not ceasing anytime soon. How dare he anger him? If that's what he wants, then that's what he'll get.

But Ayato was stubborn. Laito gulped nervously at that.

Oh, no.

Kanato slammed his fists on the table. "Okay, what do you want? Just say anything because I am getting sick and tired of your endless moping."

Ayato sighed again, stopping from his usual ministrations. "You can't help me. You don't know her."

Kanato huffed. "Bullshit. We already saw her leave the day after, remember."

"But you don't know where to find her," Ayato countered to which Laito found himself agreeing with.

To be fair, they don't know anything about this mysterious Yui Komori girl. But if they were to have first impression guesses, the girl seemed the honest yet clueless type. She also has the good girl type, the obedient one who always follows her parents' bidding because she is good like that.

However, the girl attended the party in their house and spent that one night with Ayato. That new information doesn't match their impression. Nonetheless, this Yui Komori can quite be a breath of fresh air. After all, this would be the first time Ayato flirted with a girl from the university since all his exes came from different schools.

"So this Bitch-chan has the curiosity of a cat, after all," Laito mused teasingly. "Not a goody two shoes, I see."

"I've asked random people from my course if they know someone called Yui Komori, but they don't seem to recognize one," Ayato said bitterly.

"Hmm... Ayato-kun, what if she's not really studying in Ryoutei University?"

"Nah, that's impossible." The redhead frowned. There's no way Yui would lie to him about studying in Ryoutei. Besides, the only ones invited to their party were people from the university.

"Well, I guess we could just help you look for this Yui Komori," Laito offered with a beaming smile because if this is what it takes for Ayato to stop his endless sighing over hopeless longings, then so be it. Then he turned to Kanato, giving him the "help me out here or else I'll do something despicable to your belongings" look.

Kanato only sighed in exasperation.

What a drag.

It took four days before Laito informed Ayato something about Yui Komori. It happened one day while he was seeing this one random girl he hooked up with from the Philosophy Department. After their intense sex, she mentioned something along the lines of: "I know that girl. She never skips all the classes. But Laito-kun, she's a bit boring, though? Are you sure you're looking for the right girl?"

And another fun fact: Laito had the same class with the Komori girl at 3pm every Tuesdays.

So Ayato became Laito's substitute, sitting in an unfamiliar class with brand new faces. He looked around for any sign of pale blonde hair and flower hairpins and pink until he spotted her. She was careless and lively, giggling at something her classmates said. Afterwards, the class started, the professor making his usual roll call.

"Sakamaki Laito?"

Ayato raised his hand. "Here."

The professor didn't care, but some of the students whispered, "Eh? But that's not Laito, though. It's the Ayato one."

At the mention of his name, Yui whipped her head back and saw Ayato, sitting five rows away from her. She immediately turned away and tried to shrink from his presence.

What's he doing here?

Once classes ended, Yui quickly got out of her seat and rushed towards the door, letting the crowd of students from the hallway take her until Ayato couldn't see her anymore. Ayato sighed in defeat. It was a one-time chance, and yet he failed.

"So what now?" Laito asked, munching on his salted caramel popcorn as he watched this new movie he rented with Kanato at their living room. "You'll have to wait for Tuesday to see her again."

"I don't have time for that," Ayato countered. "My practice schedule has been moved to Tuesday next week."

Kanato buried his face into Teddy's head, hugging the stuffed bear closer. "We could ask Reiji to give us a copy of her schedule. He's doing an assistant teacher job until next month," he suggested, then he remembered, "Nah. It's a bad idea. As if Reiji would let us know someone's class schedule. He abides by the rule."

"Looks like there goes your hopes and dreams, Ayato-kun," Laito remarked in despair.

Or so they thought.

Why? Because Kanato passed by Yui Komori in the hallway on Thursday. What's more? Her class is held at room 403 from 1pm to 5pm.

He knew because he skipped one of his minor classes and see where this blonde girl will move. He even approached one of her classmates and pretended he was quite interested, making some nonsensical flirtatous remarks on her because the girl looked so easy.

"O-O-Oh that?" the poor girl tucked her hair behind her ear and shyly handed out her class schedule. "Y-You can check it; I don't mind. As long as we see each other after this."

As if Kanato will let that happen.

Ayato was chugging on one of his water bottles in the kitchen when Kanato approached him and said, "I saw your dream girl today."

The redhead stopped at that, turning all his focus on the middle triplet. "Where?"

Suddenly, Kanato whipped out his phone and typed something. Afterwards, Ayato's phone beeped and when he opened it, he received a picture of a class schedule.

"I met a girl who goes to all same classes with that Yui Komori," Kanato informed. "Make sure to use it wisely or else." Because I am so tired of you being so lovesick as hell.

"O-Oh," Ayato was glad. Finally, he could see her again. "Thanks, Kanato."

"Just buy me two pints of ice cream."

"Sure."

"I want the new biscoff one and the chocolate chip cookie."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Yui was bored. Apparently their professor for their 4-hour class this Friday afternoon was absent due to sudden cold. She sighed in her seat, contemplating where she could go since her next class would be for 6 pm onwards.

"U-Umm... Komori-san!" a female classmate called.

"Y-Yes?"

"Y-Your boyfriend's calling out for you."

"Eh? Boyfriend?"

Then she saw some of her classmates whispering to each other, glancing briefly at her before going back to their own businesses. Yui decided she should find ot who this mystery boyfriend, although there's only one person that comes to mind.

I hope he's not who I'm thinking.

"Yo, Chichinashi," Ayato greeted, the familiar smirk flashing on him. "It's been a while."

Yui blushed at the familiar nickname, the whispers behind her getting louder.

This was the start of a roller coaster story.

[all-the-things-2020]

Too Many Damerons

Summary: People keep getting confused because there are two General Damerons and Connix is ready to tear her hair out.

Word Count: 1800+

Rating: PG-13

“It happened again,” Finn said, dropping his duffel bag next to the couch.

Poe looked up from the couch, where he was hunched over his data pad. “You’re kidding,” he said.

“Nope,” Finn said. He plopped down next to his husband. “Got there, went through the whole security check, walked in and the High Minister says, ‘Who are you?’”

“I thought Connix started verifying who they wanted when she arranged these things,” Poe said. He put his data pad away and slipped an arm around Finn’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“She did,” Finn said. “She asked if they wanted Finn Dameron or Poe Dameron and they said Finn, but apparently they thought that was you. Or you’re me. Or whatever.” He sighed. “It would be funny if it wasn’t such a damn waste of time.”

“I hear you,” Poe replied. Just a few weeks ago, he’d flown ten hours to attend a meeting only to find that the rest of the attendees were under the impression they were getting the General Dameron who was an ex-Stormtrooper. When Poe had shown up, the former troopers who had tentatively formed an alliance with the local government felt they’d been betrayed and backed out of the deal, which caused headaches for everyone, especially Poe, who had to try to explain to a cranky planetary governor that when humans got married, they used the same family name.

“Maybe Torax had the right idea,” Finn mused. The ambassador from a small backwater planet in the Outer Rim had suggested that Poe adopt a higher rank, Grand General, or Supreme General, to differentiate him from Finn.

“I told you, babe, I’m not doing it,” he said. “I don’t outrank you. We’re equals. End of story.” He kissed Finn’s temple. “Besides, all of those suggestions just reek of Imperial pretentiousness.”

“You’re right,” Finn said. “I’m just frustrated.”

“I can fix that,” Poe replied, snuggling closer.

“I’ll just bet you can,” Finn said, running his fingers through Poe’s hair. Pretty soon, Poe was sure Finn had forgotten all about the mission gone wrong. He certainly had.

***************************

“I don’t know how I can make it any clearer, General,” Connix said the next morning. “When they request to meet with General Dameron, I ask ‘Which one?’ If they say Poe, I give them Poe; if they say Finn, I give them Finn. And if they don’t know, then I ask a few questions to figure it out, but I don’t have time to play twenty questions every time someone comms us.”

“Well, it’s obvious they don’t always know who they want, even if they think they do,” Finn said. “We need to come up with a solution.”

“You could go back to being General Finn,” Rose suggested. “It’s not quite as professional, but it’s certainly clear.”

Finn shook his head. “I don’t want to do that unless we have to,” he said. It would make things easier for everyone, but he’d gotten used to being a Dameron and he still got a little thrill every time someone called him by that name. It reminded him that he had a family, a place in the world.

Poe nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep that as our final option. Maybe we just need to be more proactive. Instead of asking who they want, ask what they want and then tell them who they’re going to be dealing with.’

Connix nodded as well. “That could work. Divvy up the responsibilities between the two of you. For example, anything about defectors from the First Order goes to Finn; anything dealing with the Republic Navy goes to Poe.” She started tapping away at her data pad. “Yes, this is good. I’ll sit down with the rest of the staff and we can get a preliminary list to you by the end of the day.”

Finn relaxed in his seat. It was a relatively minor issue against the backdrop of galactic politics, but he felt better knowing it was taken care of, at least for the moment.

***************************

Rey was tinkering with an old cleaning droid when Finn arrived. “Hey, good news,” he said, sitting down beside her. He picked up a broom attachment that had clearly seen better days and raised an eyebrow at her.

She tossed the battered part aside. “Yeah, it might be beyond hope,” she admitted. “So, what’s your good news?”

“Dad’s coming,” he said. Rey immediately perked up. Kes Dameron, Finn’s father-in-law, was one of her favorite people in the galaxy, mostly because he was a fantastic cook.

“And I’m invited for dinner?,” she asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Finn said, bumping her with his shoulder. “Every day. There’s no way the three of us can eat that much, anyway.”

“Are you implying that I can?,” she said, pretending to take affront. It was a standing joke between her and Finn that she could eat him under the table. Poe was constantly amazed at the quantities the two of them could put away, but then again, he hadn’t grown up having to scrounge for every bite, like Rey, or having his nutrition carefully doled out, like Finn.

“I’m not implying it, I’m flat out stating it,” Finn replied. “Poe says we should have a separate line in the Resistance budget for the ‘Care and feeding of Jedi’ that’s actually just your grocery bill.”

“Hey, I earn every bite,” Rey retorted. “I live in the Falcon, more or less, and Force knows I don’t spend a single credit on clothes. Food is all I ask for keeping the galaxy safe.”

“A cheap price to pay to keep the Jedi master on our side,” Finn said with a laugh.

“So …,” Rey said. “Did Kes mention what he’s planning to cook the first night?”

Finn shoved her off her seat.

********************************

“Ugh. There are too many gods damned Damerons on this base,” Connix grumbled to Rose. “I swear, if those two have a kid …”

Rose laughed. “I know.” A small ship had just requested clearance to land, stating it had business with someone named Dameron. The crew barely spoke any Basic, and they’d had to haul C3-PO in from the other side of the base to translate before they could figure out that the ship didn’t want either of the Generals. They were delivering some supplies purchased by Mr. Dameron, who was planning to make an elaborate meal to celebrate some obscure Yavinian holiday that Finn has expressed curiosity about.

“I’m just going to start calling them by their first names, protocol be damned,” Connix said.

*******************************

“You can’t be referring to me by my first name when dealing with the Brexinti,” Poe told Connix. “They are very, very strict about the proper use of titles. I accidentally called the Premier Minister the Minister Prime and you’d think I killed a baby.”

“But they got confused that you both have the same title,” Connix shot back. “I was trying to make things easier for them.”

“I know,” Poe said, running his hand through his hair. “But they’re really touchy about using personal names outside of intimate situations. Like really touchy. Like, people have been shot for being too ‘familiar’ with a non-relative. According to their rules, only Finn and my dad can call me Poe. Everyone else is supposed to call me General Dameron at all times or their great ancestors will be offended.” He laid a hand on Connix’s arm. “I told them you were raised by feral loth-wolves and didn’t know any better and I think they bought it.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“You need to give me a raise, General Dameron,” she said.

**************************

“It surprises us that you share a title with your husband,” Premier Minister Flonx said to Finn. “Or should I say, that you share a rank with him.” She laughed nervously. The Brexinti did everything nervously, Finn had noticed. Dealing with them was like walking on eggshells all the time, everyone seemingly terrified of saying something offensive or uncouth.

“Well, our position is kind of unique,” Finn tried to explain. “When General Organa died, she made it clear she wanted Poe to take her place.” He noticed that Flonx blushed when he said Poe’s name, and he tried to remember that saying someone’s first name outside the privacy of the home was tantamount to showing nude holovids to these people. “Sorry, Commander Dameron,” he corrected himself. “So, when Commander Dameron assumed the rank of General, he felt that he wasn’t up to the task of replacing General Organa, so he asked me to be his co-General. We kind of invented the rank on the spot.” He shrugged. “We work together, and he has his areas of expertise, and I have mine. It works for us.”

“But … does it not get confusing to others?” Flonx asked delicately.

“Oh, yeah,” Finn admitted. “But we’re not as formal about things as you are here on Brexin.”

“I am aware of that,” Flonx said. “It was rather shocking to us, to be honest.” She ducked her head and whispered. “I would die of shame if anyone were to speak the Minister Prime’s first name in my presence and we’ve been working together for years. I … I still remember the first time my husband spoke my name.” She blushed deeply. “Oh, we should not be talking of such risqué things, General Dameron. You are a bad influence!” She laughed awkwardly, clearly embarrassed.

“You think I’m bad,” Finn said, “wait until you meet my husband.”

****************************************

“General Dameron!” The Minister Prime called out.

Poe and Finn both turned. “Which one?,” they said.

Minister Prime Taxli shook his head in irritation. “This is altogether too confusing,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I shall begin referring to you as First General and Second General. Premier Minister Flonx has told me that one of you was created General before the other, am I right?”

Poe nodded. “Yes, General Organa named me as her successor, and then I asked F— him to be my co-general.” He’d barely caught himself from saying Finn out loud, which would have made half the Brexinti in attendance faint.

“Very good, then you shall be First General Dameron, and your husband shall be Second General Dameron,” said Taxli. “And we can all get about our business.”

Finn leaned over and whispered in Poe’s ear. “I kind of like that idea.”

“It still sounds like I outrank you, which I don’t,” Poe insisted. He hated the thought of anyone thinking that Finn was less than what he was: a General and the finest being Poe had ever met.

“It has nothing to do with rank,” Finn insisted. “It’s just about timing. You were a general first, and then I became a general second. It makes sense, and if some people think you take precedence, who cares? We’re married, it’s not like you can walk into a gathering ahead of me, no matter how strict the rules of protocol are. Couples enter together, right? Side by side.”

Poe smiled. “Side by side,” he said. “I like that. Okay, Second General Dameron, think Connix will like it?”

“Oh, she’ll love it,” Finn said emphatically. “Anything to make her life easier. We really need to give her a raise.”

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chapter 2: Serce

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 2.8k next

A couple of weeks went by without incident. You didn’t see Rosinante again, but the dreams persisted. That was about it, however. They were less frequent, much to your relief and Marco’s demise. He was still banking on fate. He teased you about it every chance he got, but as time went on it wasn’t as funny anymore.

The new interns were doing incredibly well. Law seemed to be talented with a scalpel and Robin just seemed to be everywhere all at once. She was quite knowledgeable on various diseases just as you are. There were many times that people went to train in your hospital and they either didn’t stick it out because it was too intense, or you just didn’t end up finding them useful.

That wasn’t the case for the two of them. You could see them staying even after their residency if they wanted to. Marco hardly had to keep a close eye on them, they did just fine on their own. Things also started to fall back into place. You weren’t as spacey anymore, back to your normal self. It seemed it was all just coincidence, after all.

Until today.

You were on your typical morning jog before work. You were trying to get back into being more physical and running always helped you clear your head. While you still spaced out from time to time, it wasn’t affecting your day to day anymore. Though, this morning Marco was able to sneak up on you and scare the ever living daylights out of you.

Now he was sporting a black eye.

You saw a group of people on the pathway and annoyance started to cross over you. Why did people have to stand in the middle of the goddamn path? There was literally a whole bench. Actually, there were several. They could move the fuck out of the way. 

You slowed your running pace only to end up slowing down to a walk because there were more people than you thought. That’s when you saw the vendors and made the connection that it must have been some kind of event. You rolled your eyes. “Should’ve checked the bulletin,” you mumbled to yourself as you slowly weaved your way through the crowd.

Once more that feeling overcame your body and you moved. You reached out, for the third time, catching someone by the collar. Before even looking, you knew who it was. Fate loved playing her games and you could already hear Marco’s stupid voice in your head telling you, “I told you soooo.” You grimaced before shaking it off and helping the tall man up.

He turned to look at you, his eyes widening. “You again.” You nodded and sighed. “This a habit of yours?” You recalled him being quite clumsy, it seems that much hasn’t changed.

“Ah, I suppose you could say that. My son’s always giving me shit for it.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he gave a nervous laugh.

“You have a cut on your cheek? Just how many times have you fallen today?” Not only did you notice the cut on his cheek but his hands looked rather scruffed up to. You let out a small sigh, pointing to the bench not far from the both of you. Doctors never rest, it seemed. “Sit.”

He blinked in confusion, but listened to you, sitting on a nearby bench as you rummaged around in your fanny pack. You always kept extra bandages and such, having a mini first aid kit on you at all times. Maybe it was just from being a doctor, maybe it was just because you’ve taken a tumble or two on a run. It only takes one or two scraped knees to be tired of them.

“Hands.” He held out his hands before you. They were pretty scruffed up. “This is going to sting a little, okay?” He nodded, not saying anything, just watching as you applied some disinfectant to a cotton ball.

“Do you just…carry this stuff-” His words were cut off by a hiss as you started to apply the disinfectant to his scratches. He had almost pulled his hands away, but you had a firm grip on him. “I told you,” you mused, looking at him with a smug smile only for him to pout in return. It was kind of cute, honestly.

Wait, what the fuck? Moving on.

“To answer your questions, however, yes. I do ‘just carry this stuff around’.” You began to wrap his hands in bandages, deciding to not mention the fact you were a doctor. The less he knew the better. “Never can be too careful, hm? Came in handy, didn’t it?” You looked at him for a moment, noticing his face was red. Fever?

You put the back of your hand to his forehead, making him jump and his face seemed to redden by the second. “You’re red. Are you feeling ill?” His eyes widened and he shook his head, shooing your hand away. “I’m just fine,” he mumbled. 

You frowned, shaking your head as you turned your attention to the scratch on his face. “You really should take care of your injuries. They could get infected and you could die.” You said it as if it were no big deal, but his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “From a small scratch,” he screeched.

You blinked, jumping at the sudden raise of his voice. You just stared at him as he stared right back. Right, you did just casually said he could die. Most people would freak out if you said that. It was mostly a joke. Mostly. “I mean, anything can happen, but you’re fine. I was just teasing you,” you said, rolling your eyes and taking his chin in your hand to turn him towards you. Once again, his face turned red as you tended to him.

“That wasn’t funny,” he pouted, making you roll your eyes again. “I think it was hilarious. Anyways.” You stood up straight, disposing of your used materials, putting the rest back in your pack before sanitizing your hands. “You should be all good now. Just make sure you take care of yourself.”

You put your hands on your hips and narrowed your eyes at him. “And be careful.” His eyes widened and you watched as he swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “Y-Yes.” 

He looked at you for a long moment, looking like he wanted to ask something. You raised your eyebrows at him. “Yes?”

“Are you sure we don’t know each other?” His face scrunched slightly as he tried to think really hard. 

You snorted. “Careful, I can hear your gears turning from here and I can’t fix the inside of your mind if you break that.” You shook your head. “And I’m sure. Anyways, bye!” You skittered off before he could protest, feeling your heart race.

Anymore encounters like that and he’d surely catch on, right? Just what was fate planning?

--

“So, you believe my theory now?” 

Marco was currently perched on your desk with a shit eating grin on his face as you had just told him what happened on your jog. Naturally, you immediately regretted telling him, but you also couldn’t keep anything from him. It was only a matter of time before he found out anyway. You were a terrible liar when it came to him. He always saw right through you no matter how good you were at it. 

You had your lips pursed as you looked at him, not wanting to provide an answer. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction or believe in such a childish theory. After a moment, you opened your mouth, but he interrupted you.

“I swear to god, y/n, if you say it’s another fucking coincidence, I’m going to lose it.” He narrowed his eyes at you; you mirrored him.

“C’mon! Talk of fate, Marco? That sounds absolutely outrageous!” You rolled your eyes, putting a hand on your hip. “We’re doctors not children with fantasies!”

“What the hell else would it be though! Someone you happened to see and help ten years ago suddenly appears, more than once, mind you, after you start having dreams about them when you hadn’t thought about him in years?” He shook his head, laughing at your stubbornness. “It can’t be anything except fate herself.”

“But soulmates is pushing it, Marco. Maybe we’re meant to see each other again, but I don’t think it’s as picture perfect as that. That’s too movie magic for me.” You shook your head.

“Then what else would it be?”

“Well, we’re both from rival families, maybe things are going to come to a head soon.” You shrugged.

“But neither of you have been in the scene for a long time, why would it be that?” He shook his head. 

“You never truly leave the life and all that jazz. I literally run an underground hospital, Marco. I didn’t fully leave.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed at that. You had wanted to cut off ties completely, but you also couldn’t say no to helping people. At least you were neutral. 

“Eh, I’m going with soulmates.” Another lazy smile spread across his face.

“Have fun living in whatever fantasyland you’re in. I’m going to stay in reality where everyone else is.” You snorted and he stuck his tongue out at you, making you laugh in turn. 

“What is it so awful to wish for good things to happen to my best friend, basically my sibling?” He grinned at you, shrugging.

“Oh shut up.” You laughed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “Both you and I know that I’m too busy for any kind of love life anyway. I am essentially running two hospitals. I don’t have time for anything, let alone dating.” 

“You never know. Maybe if you actually delegated your work, you could have time.” He smirked, shrugging at you as he stood up. “Anyway, weren’t you wanting to talk to the interns and check in? I’ll go grab one of them and send them your way.” He walked out of the office.

“Don’t fight fate!” he called on his way out.

“Fuck off!” you called after him, rolling your eyes. You couldn’t help but feel like he was right. There had to be some kind of reason that fate was bringing him back into your life, right? That, or she was just having fun torturing you. You were a notorious overthinker, after all. Who wouldn’t love to mess with you in that sense?

--

“You wanted to see me, doctor?”

You looked up from the papers strung out on your desk, blinking. “Oh yes! Have a seat Law. I just wanted to touch base with you. Get to know you a bit more.” You smiled at him as you put the paper down.

He walked over, sitting in the chair before you. He looked a bit tense, though it made sense. You were the big boss calling him into your office. Anyone would be scared.

“You’re not in trouble, kiddo. You can relax.” He didn’t seem to trust you as his stature stayed rigid. Alright, then.

“Anyways. How is the hospital treating you? How are you adjusting?”

“Uh, fine.” He shrugged. Great. He was such a talker. This was going along swimmingly. You weren’t really good with talking to people who gave nonanswers. Though, you supposed you could be the same way. Ah, the duality of man.

“O-kay…well, I see that you’re not from around here according to your files. What made you choose us?”

Law seemed to squirm slightly as you asked. It seemed as if he was unsure whether or not to tell you. You waited for him to respond, letting him choose whether or not to share this information with you. He could lie for all you cared. Most people just said, ‘oh you’re the best so I figured it was my best bet.’ And move on. You weren’t expecting some deep reason.

“Well, this hospital saved my life.” He shrugged, not looking at you. “Figured I could work under the person that saved me, but they’re not even here…I think.”

The pencil you had in your hand snapped in two as everything came into perspective. This was that child. The one that Rosinante had been with all those years ago, the one that you had saved, the one that made you finally make your decision to leave the messy life that you had. Shit, he saved your life probably just as much as you saved his.

Now that you thought about it, the kid was rather grumpy - even when he was getting better. It seemed that much didn’t change, but he didn’t seem to hate the world as much, so there was that.

“My old man and I moved back to the area so I could work here. I’ll say, it’s a lot different than I remember.” He didn’t seem to notice your pencil that was currently in two pieces on your desk. Good, you didn’t want to have to explain that. He seemed to distracted by thinking about his own past anyway.

“Ah, yes. This place was a shack when I started here. Pretty much built it from the ground up.”

“Did a good job.”

“...Thanks?” You really didn’t know how to take a kid complimenting you, but you were going to roll with it. Your head was still reeling from the information that he unknowingly dumped on you.

“Do you happen to know if they still work here? The one that saved me. Or where they went?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked at him. “Well, who was it?” 

Law frowned slightly. “They wouldn’t tell us their name.”

You thought for a long moment. You were weighing the pros and cons. Did you really want them to know it was you? Rosinante kept saying he recognized you but was that because of what happened or because you were your father’s child? You knew you should tread lightly. “I do happen to know they’re here.” 

Law immediately perked up, looking urgent. “You have to tell-”

You held up a hand, shaking your head. “They wish to remain anonymous.”

“But why? Don’t they save people all the time? They’re a doctor! Are they here?”

You took a deep breath, looking at the man before you. “Listen. People have their reasons. I’m going to respect their decision to remain anonymous. But, I can tell you that they’re still here and they’re very happy to see you well and thriving. And they’re very proud.” Your expression softened and you smiled warmly. Pride and happiness swelled in your chest. 

Law shifted, fidgeting. It seemed he wasn’t good with the spotlight. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

You couldn’t believe that this kid was the one from a decade ago. You couldn’t believe he came here because you had saved him.

“Can you at least thank them for me? Tell them…that I became a doctor because I wanted to help people just like they did for me. I want to save people. They…they didn’t give up on me like so many doctors did, so I want to be the same.” His own expression softened to one you hadn’t seen on his face before. 

Oh fuck, you were going to cry. Shit, shit, shit. You needed to change the subject now. You nodded, swallowing back everything. Your heart was pounding in your ears. “Ah, yeah. I’ll let them know. Maybe one day they’ll reveal themselves to you, but there’s reasons for everything, okay?”

Law sighed, nodding. “Fair enough.”

You cleared your throat, trying not to absolutely break down right now. “Well, I just wanted to call you in to talk for a moment, get to know you more. Let you know that you’re doing a great job. You keep this up and I might ask you to stay here after residency.” You smiled at him. “I know that’s years down the line, but really. Keep up the good work.”

You watched as his pale cheeks tinted and he fidgeted. Seems he didn’t do well with compliments either. “You can go back, I’ll let your savior know what you said.”

He nodded, quickly standing up. “Thank you. I look forward to the rest of my stay.” Then he basically darted out of your office.

You immediately pressed the intercom button, feeling the tears starting to fall down your face. “Marco. Code Cyan.” It wasn’t long before you started hearing crashing noises as Marco dashed towards your office After all, that was the code the two of you used for your own emergencies. It meant one of you was about to absolutely lose it. A code you hadn’t used in a very long time.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Crossfire

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (featuring platonic Steve)

Warnings: Language

Summary: You’re caught in the crossfire when Eddie is accused of murder.

Eddie’s whole life had gone to hell in a matter of hours. He was somewhat fortunate that this ragtag team found him to explain what was happening even if it wasn’t making a lot of sense. His mind wandered to the people in his life who were just as confused, his uncle, his friends, you.

“Shit.” Eddie sighed, his whole body sinking. “Is Y/n okay?”

Robin offered a kind smile despite their situation. “They’re fine. I spoke with them this morning and filled them in.”

Steve pushed himself off the pillar that he was leaning against and checked his watch.

“Actually, that was half an hour ago. They should have been here by now.” He noted curiously. Looking up, he noticed that the comment drew all eyes to him - particularly Eddie’s which were filled with a new kind of fear.

“You don’t think that this ‘Vecna’…?” The D&D player became more agitated as the thought of Y/n’s limbs being contorted took over his mind.

Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No - I mean, I don’t think so. Besides imagine if he tried.” He mused which received audible backlash.

“Dude, not funny.”

“They’re out there.”

“Read the room.”

Steve raised his hands defensively and silenced the cabin. “Jesus! I was just saying that if Vecna came after Y/n, they’d probably knock his teeth out.”

Eddie lowered his snacks, highly unamused. “Really, Harrington? You think they can defeat something none of us can see?”

Steve, now feeling bad and slightly anxious on the matter, made a decision to ease everyone’s minds. “Look, I’ll drive into town and see where they are. They probably held up at a traffic light or something.”

Pushing himself off the pillar, Steve grabbed the keys from his pocket and carefully snuck out to his car.

Dustin crept over to the window to watch his friend leave. When the car engine started and then backed out of the driveway, he turned back around to Eddie.

“Don’t worry, Steve’ll find them.” He reassured.

Max leaned forward and sent the young man a smile. “He’s also right too. About Y/n, I mean. If anyone can stick it to Vecna, it’s them.”

Dustin nodded as a memory came to mind. “Remember that demigorgon two years ago? Most badass thing I’ve seen.”

After your call with Robin, she requested that you grab some of Eddie’s favourite candy bars from the video store before heading out to meet with them. It was an easy little ‘break in’ since Robin told you where to find the spare key and you left money on the register to compensate for the bars and bag of pretzels in your hand.

As you stepped out and began to lock up, there were a few shadows that appeared on the door pane. With a final click, you pocketed the key and turned to see Jason and his basketball group lingering at the front.

“Hey Y/n, funny seeing you here.” Jason said, casually peering around and into the shop.

You squinted at his behaviour. “It’s a weekend.”

Jason chuckled and nodded. “It is. Don’t you typically spend your weekends with that Freak Munson - sorry, I mean Eddie? Have you seen him around lately?”

“I haven’t actually.” You stepped to the left with the intention to walk around them, a hand grabbed your shoulder and drove enough force to push you backwards into the door.

“What the hell Jason?”

“Do you know that he was the last person with Chrissy last night?” He asked.

Of course you knew this. Eddie told you about why Chrissy reached out and how he wanted to help her. Then she was found dead in his trailer and all eyes went to him as a suspect. Robin reached out to explain Vecna’s involvement but it’s not like you could explain that.

“I saw him last night before heading home. That was the last time. I don’t spend every waking minute with him.” You pushed his hand away to move out of his trap when Jason pressed his free hand against your throat suddenly.

The basketball team took a step back, quite surprised with their leader.

“You know what I think? I think you and the Freak planned this like the twisted and sadistic psychopaths that you are.” Jason accused, pressing a bit harder. “Where is the freak?”

You clawed at his hands to shove him away but it was useless until a car pulled up. The door opened and someone stepped out. “What the hell is going on?” Steve questioned angrily.

Startled, the basketball team urged Jason to let go before they backed off and fled the scene.

Steve rushed over to you and placed a gentle hand over your shoulder.

“Hey. Shit - are you okay?” He asked, checking you over for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

You pulled your jacket to sit properly over your shoulder, pocketed the pretzels and shook your head starting towards his car. “I just want to get out of here.”

The ride back was quiet and you preferred it that way. Steve was kind enough not to press but he knew that Nancy could get you to open up if you were shaken. He’s known you to take on Upside Down monsters without fear but human monsters were a different breed.

Steve pulled up to the boathouse and switched off the ignition. You got out of the car and followed Steve through to the back door and entered the room. You saw the kids, Nancy and Robin and you flashed a small smile. Turning around, you saw a glimpse of Eddie just before he dove into your arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He mumbled against your skin. Feeling nothing but relief to see him again, you stayed silent and just hugged him back, ignoring the audience.

Nancy leaned over to Steve as he stood beside her and Robin before she spoke softly. “Was it Vecna?”

Steve exhaled and shook his head, glancing over at you. “Jason Carver, actually. Managed to get to them before he and his basketball chums began lynching.”

Eddie overheard the conversation and noticed some bruises peeking through from beneath your shirt. But before he could question it, you had stepped back and then turned to the group.

“So where are we at with Vecna?” You asked.

“He’s still in the Upside Down. So once we have a way through…” Max began.

“You can kick his ass!” Dustin interjected with a clap. “Boom! Vecna’s toast and we clear Eddie.”

You nodded. “And until then should I lay low here?”

Steve shook his head, crossing his arms. “That’s not a good idea. If you stay here, they’ll think you’re in league with Eddie and it’ll make things a lot worse. It might be best to…”

“Say we broke up.” Eddie finished.

You frowned and whipped around. “What?”

Eddie’s eyes were sad and desperate. He didn’t know what else to do. “Y/n, Jason got to you. If you keep defending me, you might get hurt or worse and I can’t.”

Scoffing, you pulled the packet of pretzels from your pocket and threw it at him. “I’m not telling people we broke up. It’s dumb and I-”

“And you could never pull it off.” Robin agreed and noticed that everyone was staring at her. Realising that she spoke out loud, Robin smiled and shrugged. “I mean, we’ve all seen it right. One mention of Eddie and it’s like he’s just phantom kissed Y/n.”

Steve rolled his eyes at how this conversation was unfolding and shook his head.

“No one’s breaking up with anyone. We just avoid Jason for now. Stick to the story that you haven’t seen Eddie since the game and take it from there.” He instructed.

Masterlist here

[a-boca-do-inferno]

intensity, dive bars & a good talk (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: James meets a curious stranger.

warnings: none

words: 0.6k

notes: this is a bit of a mess sorry. its his fault

“Well, hello, handsome”, the girl says, taking James by surprise.  

He glares at her. “Who are you?” 

“The woman of your dreams, nice to meet you”, her tone is full of joy, and she laughs slightly. “Just kidding, I’m (y/n). And you are Sargent Barnes, right?”, she doesn’t wait for an answer, adding with a sly smile, “it’s a pleasure.”  

“(y/n). I see”, Bucky nods, measuring her up and down. “What is it you want from me, (y/n)?” 

“Aren’t you the sweetest thing, all moody and suspicious?”, she clicks her tongue, not affected at all by his stiffness. “I wanna get to know you. I have a feeling you don’t do that with a lot of people, so I would like to change that.” 

“I am what you could call an antisocial guy, I guess”, he glances at her, shrugging. “But what is it that you find so interesting about me?” 

“You know, you are a lot like me, if you’d believe”, the girl pushes a stool to his side, making herself comfortable. “I’m also very antisocial, but something about you just pulled me in. Maybe it was your beautiful blue eyes”, she chuckles. “Or one too many beers I had so far.” 

James studies her face with some caution. “Really?”, he takes a sip of his drink, looking away as if in deep thought. “I’m not used to people taking an interest in me. And I find your behaviour... unusual.” 

“You know, I really like your hair”, she blurts out, seeming completely in awe of his dark strands.  

Bucky can’t help but stare at her, a little confused. “You... like my hair?” 

“Yes, and I have a feeling I would like your smile too”, she leans on the counter with her elbows. “I’m sure it’s a sight.” 

“I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to be flirted with so aggressively”, he snickers, finally warming up. “But I appreciate the compliments.” 

“Hey, if I’m making you uncomfortable, I can stop”, she adds, taking a more serious stance, but letting her grin appear one more time. “I wouldn’t wanna bother such a handsome man.” 

“You’re not bothering me, (y/n)”, Bucky smiles lightly. “You just caught me off guard. I find it... flattering, actually.” 

“Good.”  

They exchange a long look before he says, “so, tell me about yourself.” 

“Oh, there is nothing to tell, really”, she stares down for a moment. “I’m just a girl looking for good conversation, and I’m glad you took an interest in me.” 

Bucky snorts softly. “I don’t think you should be that happy about my interest. I have been told I can be quite intense”, (y/n) gives him a funny look, and he responds by nodding with a smirk. “It’s not for everyone.” 

“Is that so?”, she challenges, taking a sip of her own drink. “Well, I’m afraid you have just met your match, my friend.” 

He raises a brow. “So, you think you can match my intensity?”, (y/n) feels her insides melting when his blue eyes reach hers like two headlights in the night. “I’d like to test that theory of yours, sometime.” 

“You can be very forward too, huh?”, (y/n) mumbles, blushing helplessly. She gives him a playful salute, “good for you, Sargent.”

Bucky nods once, thoughtful. “You know, you’re not like anyone I have met here. Most of them would be scared off if I acted like this”, he muses, while his deep eyes flit right to her lips. 

(y/n) hums, leaning in closer. “See something you like?” 

“Yes”, he meets her halfway, standing dangerously close to her mouth. “And I’d like to try something, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

James holds her gaze briefly before kissing her, his hands gently cupping her flustered face. She gasps under his touch, hugging him tight while their tongues dance together. Suddenly the whole bar goes quiet and it’s just both of them now, exchanging that sweet moment. They part a few moments later, somewhat breathless, and (y/n) beams at Barnes with a smug look. 

“Who’s the aggressive flirt, now?”, she mocks, and her cheeks still have a light blush. 

James simply laughs, nodding to her. “Yeah, okay, you won that one.” 

[mlm-writer]

Survival First, Mourning Later (Tiran Kandros x GN!Reader)

Pairing:  Tiran Kandros x Gender Neutral Reader (relationship unspecified) Rating: Mature Words: 1753 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 15 - Last Words Note: Ssshhh I am totally not behind. Also all other characters are my OCs. Enjoy them. Tags: Major character death, explicit violence, action, gunfights with the Remnant and reader and Kandros are at least on physical touch level comfortable with each other.

You had a bad feeling the moment you stepped into the Renmant building, like a bug crawling over your bones. The metal vibrated under your feet, making you feel like the whole structure was alive. Maybe it was; you never knew with these damned robots. It had been eerily quiet, like there was no life after all. Kandros led the team of 6, including you and himself. You expected to find the scientists you were looking for dead, but director Tann was hopeful. Well, he pretended to be hopeful. You all knew he just did not want to admit he sent some scientists to their death.

“Can’t we just kill the fuckers above ground and steal their batteries? The things are ancient, so I bet we could power the Nexus with them for decades,” Logus Daemus whispered over the comm. It was a funny idea, but no one laughed, because no one was sure if Logus was serious or not. The Turian was a great shot, but his brawn was with a 100% certainty meant to compensate for his brain.

“And if we manage to find out what they charge those batteries with, the Nexus could be set forever,” Lalia Daemus mused. Being his sister, she really was the only one who could talk logic into the man without angering him.

“Quiet,” Kandros hissed. He was not against chatter, so when he said it, everyone froze. Surely, in the distance, one could hear the tell tale sounds of Remnant at work. Your grip on your weapon tightened. “Let’s try to avoid a fight,” Kandros whispered as he put a hand on your arm, making you relax. You couldn’t see his face well through his visor, but even without his eyes, he could make you feel more at ease. Kandros nodded towards a smaller hallway that led away from where the Remnant could be heard.

You followed Kandros close by, the rest of your team tailing behind you. Dai Lian was almost fused with your rear. You wondered why he was brought along. He was comfortable fighting exiles and Kett, but you knew the Remnant freaked him out. It was not like his biotics didn’t work against the Remnant, but you supposed he had some history with the Geth.

All went well, the hallway quiet, until Yalona, who was the tail of your group, stepped on something. She could feel it shift under her foot. Immediately, red lights surrounded you and a deep sound that reminded you of an alarm echoed through the hallway. “Get to cover!” Kandros hollered. There were some metal half-walls in the hallway. You took Dai Lian’s hand and dragged him with you to the shortest one. Being the only humans, you two were the smallest ones in the squad. To your left, Logus and Lalia were hiding behind a slightly taller half-wall. Behind you, Kandros and Yalona were watching your six. You heard Kandros shoot, before you saw the first Assembler turn around the corner from where you just came.

Your assault rifle vibrated in your hands as you fought - quite literally - for your life. Dai Lian made sure they didn’t get close, pushing them away or slowing them down with his biotics. “Need some backup over here,” Kandros’ voice came over the com.

“Logus, Lalia, I’m leaving Dai Lian here for support. Gonna help Kandros and Yalona.” The Turian siblings confirmed they heard you and you bolted out of cover to Kandros’ little half-wall. You didn’t really fit behind it with Yalona there too, especially not now the Salarian’s tech armour was making her bulkier. The way you were going got swarmed by Remnant. You shot the Breachers out of the air, the continuous stream leaving very little room to actually attack the Assemblers creating them.

“Running out of heatclips here,” Logus warned over the com. One moment you heard him. The next moment, there was a heavy explosion behind you. You allowed yourself a quick look over your shoulder. There were three Nullifiers lined up. Logus and Lalia would’ve been dead, were it not for Dai Lian’s quick reflexes. Lalia demanded Kandros to call for a retreat. You knew he knew, but just like everyone else, you were aware that you were surrounded.

“Yalona, do you see any shafts leading away from here?” Kandros yelled over the com as he finally managed to get rid of one of the Assemblers. Yalona had barely a word out, when she got interrupted by another heavy explosion behind you. You heard a brief scream over the com, but it was cut short. It was followed by a woeful cry from Dai Lian.

You turned your head just far enough to see the gaping hole in the floor where once Logus and Lalia were hiding. “Kandros, five ‘o clock, the Nullifiers shot a hole through the floor,” you called as you focused your gaze forward again to quickly shoot an Observer down.

“We escape through it, now!” You did not need to be told twice. You were bolting, picking up Dai Lian on the way and tumbling down the hole face first. You rolled onto your back and pointed your assault rifle up. Kandros was right behind you, dragging Yalona in much the same way you had dragged Dai Lian with you. Behind Kandros, you could see a Breacher trying to follow him. You shot it down, before it could hurt anyone. “Get up, we gotta run.” Kandros ordered as he pulled you to your feet. Dai Lian was already on his feet, moving a large crate with his biotics. He plugged the hole with it. You ran right behind Kandros, a second later realising Yalona was not catching up.

“Kandros! Yalona is injured.” The Turian paused and then ran back past you. He swung the Salarian over his shoulders with ease. Yalona muttered some thank yous, but did not say much else. That should’ve been a bad sign, but you were too occupied with finding a safe haven to think about it. “If the rest of the structure is like this, let’s count our scientists as dead. We already lost two people…”

“I know!” Kandros snapped at you. “We get out and we’ll retrieve the bodies, when we got backup.” You were unsure if he meant those of the scientists or those of the siblings. The latter were destroyed to nothing but ash, but Kandros probably could not accept that right away. You noticed how quiet Dai Lian was. When you looked over, he had tears in his eyes.

Kandros paused when he heard more Remnant approaching ahead of you. You spotted a side room and signalled everyone to get in. Yalona managed to hack the door in time and lock it behind you. She leaned against the wall next to the door, where Kandros was listening to what was going on in the hallway. You were in the back with Dai Lian; he sat on a crate, while you were crouched in front of him, one of your hands rubbing his knee. “I couldn’t protect them,” the other human whispered. He was trying hard not to cry, but even you couldn’t imagine the survivor's guilt he was feeling. “If I was just…”

You shushed him and leaned up to give him a hug. “We can’t have you spiralling right now. Survival first, mourning later,” you whispered to him. He sniffed into your shoulder, before giving you a small hum that indicated that he understood. After a brief moment, you let go of your fellow agent. You looked over your shoulder at Kandros and Yalona. You narrowed your eyes at the Salarian. She was slumped over, but no longer gasping for breath. “Yalona?” You closed the distance between you, but before you could touch her, Kandros had caught your wrist midair.

“She’s gone,” he whispered, ear still against the door and eyes avoiding yours. You swallowed a lump in your throat. You sighed and pulled your hand free, repeating the word you just told Dai Lian in your head for yourself. Survival first, mourning later.

You put Yalona in what looked like a more comfortable position; it was all you could do for her now. You made her a promise in your head. You would come back for her body. When you had the manpower, she would get her proper funeral. You were pulled from your thoughts by Dai Lian calling out your name. You got to your feet and turned to him. “Think we can make it through here?” Dai Lian asked as he revealed a grid that was hidden behind the crate he sat on earlier. With his biotics, he ripped the grid off. You crouched down next to him, looking at the shaft behind the grid.

“We will, but no way a full-grown Turian would fit thr…” You were cut off by the sound of lasers and explosions. The door rattled, the metal creaking under the onslaught.

“Go! I will hold them off your back for as long as I can.” Kandros ordered as he made sure his weapon had a fresh heatclip inside. You tried to argue with him, but even you knew the options were all dying here or you and Dai Lian possibly making it out of here alive. When the door started to crumble, you pushed Dai Lian into the shaft, following close by. “See you in the next adventure!” Kandros called after you. You liked to pretend those words were the last thing you heard from him. Everything you heard after that made you wanna turn around, but you couldn’t. Survival first, mourning later.

You and Dai Lian made it out, barely. You ran to the shuttle covered in machine fluid and blood from both you and Dai Lian. When you came back, some other big shot took over for Kandros, but no amount of respectable record could replace the man you trusted with your life. Especially not when said big shot refused to dispatch an APEX squad to retrieve the bodies. ‘Waste of resources’ your ass.

Eventually it was Ryder who went back in with a horde of volunteers from the APEX squads and their own team. Kandros just meant that much to the people he led. They found Kandros and Yalona, but there was nothing left of the Daemus siblings. Seeing his body was hard, but it was thanks to him that you were even there to see it. You survived that day and now came the time of later…

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure! A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

[theseushasfallen]

Ok. So.

Currently, I find myself watching the 2011 remake of The Thing. And, because i’m a bitch with a hyperfixation, i’m thinking of how I could squish this and Trigun together to make a delightful mashup soup. Y’know, like mashing two ken dolls together to make them kiss.

So of COURSE i’m thinking of Cryptid/Uncanny/Monstrous Vash. He is always on my mind, any time any place, my babygorl who has Witnessed the horrors, and IS the Horrors.

And i’ve been thinking of this shit chronically, i’ve been planning a fic like this ever since i’ve begun to fully muse on how inhuman Vash is (COUGH, literal years). 

And one of my inspirations, is the fic Monster Boy by DeuBatty on AO3. And lemme tell you it’s put a fucken worm in my brain, its AWESOME I highly recommend going to check it out, its hella underrated and it gives the kinda energy I desperately wish to replicate.

So, here I am, trying to fit these pieces of crack infused bullshit together into a cohesive plotline, and this is how.

So, logically, I start with the Thing bit. Mmm. Aliens. (Mild spoilers for the Thing but it doesn’t go how you’d think lmao)

So currently, I’m stuck between only Vash being the alien in question, or both twins being aliens and Rem picking them up from the antarctic like ‘OOO FREE BABIES’

The second one is a bit self-explanatory, but the first is really, really funny, and I wanna explain to you why.

So. Lemme set the scene for you:

Science runs in the Saverem family. Rem’s a botanist who dabbles in archeo-botany, and her (adopted) son Nai is also quite taken with the pursuit of Archaeology. So when he’s called out on some,,,vague new trip to an outpost in the boonies of Antarctica to find some ancient, buried Structure, he’s elated.

So, he gets there, they dig up a frozen hunk of Something and leave it in the room like normal,,, but Nai thinks that something might not be right with the alien they dug up. So, still painfully sober and more than a bit paranoid, he goes to stare at a hunk of ice instead of socializing. 

And, well, whoop-dee-doo, he was right.

But instead of the ice bursting outward and the alien escaping though the roof like it does in the movie, Nai hears a pitiful scratching from within the ice. And then there are fissures, cracks. They multiply softly, as if the creature inside is unsure about its movements, intil the whole block is a veritable spiderweb of cracks.

Nai watches, frozen to the spot with something like horror as something pushes chunks of fractured ice out of the block, and reach out something that looks like what Nai can only describe as an appendage. 

Its something that looks closer to any crustacean or invertebrate, something with too many joints and a hard, shiny exoskeleton that gleamed iridesent black in lantern light. Things that could vaguely be called fingers (if one would squint) poked and prodded at the concrete floor curiously, examining the space with gentle caution.

And then more ice falls.  And more is revealed.

And Nai, only about a foot or so away from this thing, looks it in one glossy, black eye.

He screams. because of course he does, how could he not? The fucking alien he just dug out of the ice is ALIVE with questionable intention, how the hell is he supposed to cope with this shit when he could barely interact with his coworkers???

And in the process of screaming he ALSO freaks out the Alien, who screams back in much the same way that a canyon would- with Nai’s own voice.

So Nai, with his lightning quick reflexes, punches the thing. And slices his knuckles on its exoskeleton in the process.

Then he fucking books it back to the Rec Room, panicked screaming ensues about how “ITS ALIVE ITS ALIVE ITS ALIVE I CUT MY HAND ON IT I SCREAMED AND IT SCREAMED BACK-” 

And they’re all like. ‘what the hell. the serious stick-up-the-ass prissy Dr.Saverem wouldn’t josh about this shit.’ and they follow him back, and when Nai opens the door again they see that the ice?? is broken?? and with a glaring lack of alien??

Oh, and there’s a guy huddled in the corner. And when the door, yknow, slams open, he whips around (mans is butt-ass naked but he aint got no junk, just fucken ken doll smooth down there) and suddenly Nai is looking directly into his reflection.

The thing’s eyes widen, and it makes a strangled hurt-sound that sounds like the cry of a hawk more than anything human. And then it darts foreward towards Nai, everybody screaming around him as they scramble, but Nai himself is frozen as the thing takes his hand with the gentleness of family...

And then RIPS THROUGH THE SKIN OF ITS OWN NEW FINGERTIPS WITH ITS TEETH, and lets its blood out on Nai’s broken skin. It soaks into his open flesh as if he were a sponge, the throbbing overtaking his nervous system momentarily before the pain is gone and he watches his own skin knit back together seamlessly.

The alien chitters, something that sounds apologetic, and tries to smile at Nai, but it’s too wide and too sharp, teeth too large and lips too thin, and eyes too bright. But, strangely, it makes Nai feel better. He’s hit with a wave of attentative apology, the feeling not his own.

He chokes on his tongue, then slowly looks back at his coworkers, who had all watched the exchange with guns trained on either of them.

“Fuck.” Nai curses.

“F-uck.” The Alien echoes back with a tilted head, and stilted words.

Nobody knows what the hell to do with the sudden twin that Dr. Saverem had... acquired. So they just. Keep him around? Idk dude he picks up card games quickly, words even quicker, although they never sound right. Like a foreign accent, but something otherworldly and stilted. 

Nai and him, once they figured out the whole mind-link thing, could communicate pretty well, quickly gaining a bond. He serves as reluctant translator, resident alien babysitter, and knife-weilding peace-keeper. He doesn’t feel bothered by how his new brother seemed too tall, too gangly, too sharp. He doesn’t mind the way the alien cuddles up to him sometimes, winding circles around him like a particularly fleshy quilt that purred and clicked. Everyone else gets used to it too, although they mind his physical contact way less. 

Except for one of the investigative journalists that were hired, one Roberto De Niro, who just pats the alien’s head tiredly and throws him his cigarette-reeking coat whenever the little shit is looking particularly pathetic.

Eventually, they take him back to the states. They don’t talk about how four people came to the Arctic, and five came back.

Rem LOVES Nai’s new brother, smothers him and his human twin in blankets and kisses when they get home. She questions them, later, about it, and Nai could never keep a secret from his momma.

Eventually, they name him- something old and lovely, the name that Rem would’ve named her own son- Vash.

Something something shenanigans with meryl and milly and nicholas eventually, probably, idk i’m tired rn lmao and  this is LONG

[lcvemiyuki]

hello!!! could i be 🌟 anon? your blog is so aesthetic :3 love the theme!!! i would like to request a matchup please !

- INTP, taurus sun

- likes: cats, sweets, museums, the rain

- dislikes: bugs, hot weather, crowds

- personality: i've been described as bubbly and charming . . . i try to be helpful and open-minded, but i think i come off as awkward and possibly endearing in the process. i'm very cold when i'm angry, and i'm passionate and vocal about my beliefs!

- hobbies/interests: playing the piano and cello, stardew valley, tennis, sewing, and trying new restaurants

- love language: receiving includes acts of service and quality time. giving includes gifts and acts of service.

- ideal type is someone tall, attentive, and caring. loyal and smart. bonus if they have cute quirks!

- appearance is 165 cm, with long, dark hair in a hime cut. likes wearing baggy clothes, button-downs, and black jeans.

- other things include . . . kind of a neat freak? lots of random facts memorized . . . almost always listening to music

lastly, i'm not a writing blog, but i do know quite a lot about haikyuu!! characters (and other media) . . . if you'd like to do a matchup exchange, lmk!!! thank you, and have a nice day :>

a/n: hi 🌟 anon!! im so sorry this took so long...i hope you like it! also i would love to do an exchange, we can talk more about it in my msgs if you're okay with that :)

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

a message in a bottle washes ashore with your name written in bold...

𓇢𓆸 "🌟" anon your match is. . .

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

keiji akaashi!

𓇼 akaashi is a calm and attentive person with a touch of coolness. your charming personality would soon rub off on him!

𓇼 akaashi is such an intellectual; a meet up from a museum is bound to happen

𓇼 it’s like fate brings you guys together every time…whether it be music or literature, the universe has a funny way of bringing people together

𓇼 your awkward charm and efforts to be helpful and open-minded would catch his attention the most!

𓇼 akaashi is observant and reserved, he loves your style and the impression of it makes him all nervous. you look so cool

𓇼 i think it would be kind of awkward at first, it’s inevitable, but slowly moving in to topics about each others interests would create a comfortable space for the both of you

𓇼 he’d find you quite cute with random facts you can voice at any time and enjoys discussing with you all about them

𓇼 dates are all about seeking comfort and solace in each other! he loves to spend quiet afternoons with you

𓇼 rainy days in are especially a favorite for you two—cuddling on the couch as he reads a book with you. he has a whole recommendation list of books for you to read. this would be because he think you'll like them or it simply reminded him of you :)

𓇼he could go from sunrise to sunset talking to you if he could

𓇼 although he doesn't show it, there are signs he gets nervous around you.

𓇼 if you lay on his chest you could hear his heart racing. his fingers sometimes shake as he lifts it up to fix your hair. if you initiate physical touch he'd stiffen up just the slightest

𓇼 you playing music for him as he gently smiles at you is all the encouragement you could ask for. your passion for the arts has him in awe

𓇼 “let me turn the sheet music for you love”

𓇼 you got him on stardew valley and honestly he loves it. (all thanks to you)

𓇼 you can’t get him off the game for hours and he would start to ask you if you guys could play together haha

𓇼 weekend visits at the museums!! you both enjoy the calm and knowledgeable environment. he loves to hold your hand as you guys stroll past different exhibits

𓇼 a muse for his candid photos, he loves to take pictures of you

𓇼 akaashi is well aware of his surroundings, and definitely can read the room. he knows all your ticks and what bothers you

𓇼 he knows you want to do stuff for him as well and be helpful, but he always manages to beat you to it and take care of you first lol

𓇼 he makes sure you’re safe as his thumb gently caresses the back of your hand (he knows you hate crowded places)

𓇼 you don’t have to ask him, he knows.

𓇼 whenever you’re talking to him, he pays no attention to others. his focus is all on you

𓇼 eye contact is a big thing for him, he wants to make sure you know that he’s listening

𓇼 one thing he does randomly is fix your bangs or move them slightly with his fingers

𓇼 his meticulous organization and calm demeanor in high-pressure situations would appeal to you

𓇼 this would honestly be a good pairing with you always wanting things to be clean and organized

𓇼i think he’d notice it right away and adjust to make sure nothing is too messy (although i doubt he would let it get to that point anyway)

𓇼 cleaning days are on the weekends! he loves spending time with you any chance he gets and putting on music (your playlist of course)

𓇼 if conflicts do arise, akaashi’s calm and rational approach would help navigate through them

𓇼 “i’ll always be here for you baby, take your time”

𓇼 very patient with you

𓇼 whatever you need, he makes sure you get it

𓇼setting up surprises for you is his specialty

𓇼 who knows…you might arrive finding a cute kitten in his arms the next day loll

𓇼 god forbid there be bugs in the house, he’d squash them all with a calm face…yeah i don’t know how he does it either LMAO

𓇼 if you do make him something like a scarf, he’d wear it every single day. it’d be his new favorite item

𓇼 he isn’t the type to boast or anything but once his friends notice him wear it 24/7 he’d eventually show off…maybe just a little

𓇼 he just loves that you made it for him that’s all :)

𓇼 your intp personality aligns well with akaashi’s thoughtful and analytical nature—both of you enjoy intellectual stimulation and value deep conversations

𓇼 your passionate nature would bring excitement and energy in his life—he’ll bring you security with how loyal and caring he is

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼