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gavisuntiedboot · 17 days

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We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

#gavisuntiedboot #gub we cant be friends #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri blurb #pedri gonzalez #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez one shot #pedri fanfic #footballer #football rpf #football fanfic

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flowerandblood · 7 months

Text

The Prince and The Fox (4)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing and fluff, just weird teenagers ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school.Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don’t ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adultin the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I’m writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that’s all you expect, this isn’t the fic for you.

I don’t want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She and Helaena lay side by side, watching the second and first parts of Shrek, laughing out loud, speaking their favourite dialogues from memory, however, her thoughts kept running back to what happened a few hours earlier. She clenched her eyelids at the mere mention.

They kissed.

She had no idea if that was good or bad.

Did he now think of her as easy to get?

Did he despise her now?

She had a lot of doubts swirling around in her head and for some reason she felt like crying again, even though the experience itself turned out to be incredibly pleasant for her.

It was her first kiss ever.

During the night she couldn't sleep, twisting from side to side, restless, listening to hear if perhaps he was up or walking down the corridor.

There was complete silence.

She shuddered when, a few hours later, her phone's display lit up and vibrated loudly, waking her up and blinding her; for a moment she struggled to open her eyelids and adjust to the light.

After a while she succeeded and unlocked the keypad. She saw with a pounding heart that she had received a message from him.

She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, the cold sweat on the back of her neck.

Fuck.

She wrote him back quickly, deciding that just 'no' would sound too dry and might let him think she was angry with him.

He didn't write back for a long time and she was afraid of what he would reply, that he would write back to tell her that it all made no sense, that it was a big mistake and that he regrets that they did it.

She felt like she was about to cry and vomit from stress and fear at the same time, all she could hear and feel was the hard pounding of her heart.

She jumped down on the bed next to Helaena when a notification suddenly displayed on her phone that she had received a new message from him.

She drew in a loud breath, tightening her lips and swallowed hard.

She rose silently, slipping the duvet off her, walking slowly barefoot towards the door. She furrowed her brow as she grabbed the handle and pressed it, the door began to open with an unpleasant creak of wood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Helaena, horrified, but she merely turned in bed, sleeping on.

She left without closing the door, afraid that another sound like that would surely wake her, and ran on tiptoe through the corridor towards his room. She knocked quietly feeling that her whole body was quivering in terror.

She thought he preferred to tell her what he thought of her to her face.

He opened it for her and looked around the corridor to make sure no one had seen anything, letting her in and closing the door behind him.

The only light in his room was his lamp standing on his desk, surrounding the whole space with a pleasant, warm glow.

She stood in place playing with her hands, staring at the floor, afraid to look at him.

"Did you want this? You know…what we did." He muttered wearily, his fingers rubbing against each other in a nervous gesture.

She looked at him surprised, his face stony, she had no idea what he was thinking. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer, looking at him with her lips slightly parted.

"Yes." She admitted with shame, feeling herself tremble all over.

Silence.

A long one.

She felt like she was about to die.

"Me too. What now?" He asked, as if he wanted her to tell him the result of a maths equation.

She looked at him in disbelief, not believing he had said that. They both seemed extremely surprised by this discovery, by what had happened.

She licked her lower lip, which was almost burning with nervousness, having no idea what to answer.

"I... I don't know. It's probably too soon to… you know." She muttered, and he stared at her in silence, she felt that she couldn't very well convey what she was feeling, what she was realising.

Good God, she was attracted to him.

She really was, but it was too early to talk about a relationship, they barely knew each other.

What was she supposed to tell him?

"I…I just wish I could spend some time with you occasionally. Or just text you. If you feel like it too, of course." She said quickly, lowering her gaze again, feeling like she was in kindergarten when she couldn't express herself properly.

"I like the way things have developed between us over the last few weeks. I don't want to ruin it with unnecessary haste. But I don't regret what we've done." She said finally, lifting her uncertain gaze to him.

She saw him nod and swallow loudly, letting the air out of his lungs, as if he felt relieved, as if he didn't know himself what to make of it all, what to think of it, how to behave towards her now.

"Mmm."

They stood like that in silence, looking away again, not knowing if they should add anything more, she could feel the tension growing between them again, his hands clenched into fists.

"Do you want me to go back to Helaena now?" She asked uncertainly, scratching her shoulder, feeling with embarrassment how much her hands were trembling.

He looked at her and hesitated for a moment.

"…Yeah." He muttered, lowering his gaze, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black sweatpants.

She nodded, feeling an ache in her heart for some reason, knowing, however, that it was the right thing to do. She walked past him and glanced at him standing next to the door.

"Good night." She said softly, looking over her shoulder, his lips tightened.

Silence.

He looked like he wanted to say something else and she didn't know if she should leave or not.

They stood like that for a moment, she heard him swallow loudly, he wasn't looking at her.

"Do you wanna kiss again? Before… you know. Going back to normal." He grunted out in a low trembling voice with difficulty and embarrassment, as if he didn't believe those words had left his mouth.

She stared at him with her eyes wide open, feeling her heart pounding fast, heat spilling over her lower abdomen.

Oh God.

She didn't know whether she was more terrified by his request or by the way her heart squeezed with joy, a wave of heat flowing through her body.

"Y-yeah. Okay."

She muttered embarrassed at how desperate she was, how hot she was at the thought that he wanted to touch her again, that he liked it too.

She swallowed loudly as he drew his hand towards her, looking down at her with his lips slightly parted, his gaze dark and hazy. She gently grasped his fingers and approached him feeling her heart pounding hard, feeling butterflies in her stomach and a pleasant tickle between her thighs.

For a moment they just stood looking at each other, his trembling hand gently slid her hair off her shoulder behind her back. She felt a pleasant shiver at that touch, close, intimate, filled with some kind of affection.

She felt his thumb on her cheek as it dug in and ran over her soft skin, his healthy eye looking at her as if half asleep, dreamy, his warm breath enveloping her face.

He leaned over her and their foreheads touched, she parted her lips slightly in a hastened breath feeling as if they were burning with the desire for him to touch her already, to relieve her.

It seemed to her as if he had read her thoughts, his lips clung to hers in a soft, warm, calm, loud kiss. She closed her eyes and sighed, reciprocating his gesture by placing her hands on the sides of his neck, her fingers trailing along his jaw.

He groaned and kissed her deeper, suddenly clamping his hand in her hair and pulling her tighter, surprising her completely, making her sigh loudly into his mouth, throwing her hands over his shoulders, wanting to feel him as close as possible.

The tips of their noses rubbed as their lips danced and brushed against each other, sinking into each other's soft texture, spreading each other's moisture and saliva, both of them panting quietly, his pleasant, warm breath, his closeness calming her.

She knew she should pull away, that this was supposed to be just one kiss, but instead their lips found each other again and again, their hands stroking each other's hair and cheeks.

He pulled away from her for a moment, pressing his forehead against hers, not letting her go from his embrace.

"− maybe − maybe stay with me, just for a little while longer − if you want −" He whispered in a low, trembling voice, as if he was afraid of what he was saying and of her reaction, that she would laugh at him, that she would spurn him.

Hey, Cyclops, do you have a girlfriend?

She pressed her lips together at the thought that he might have thought he was repulsive for her.

She nodded her head.

"− do you want to lie down? − I - I won't do anything to you −" He muttered, adding a second sentence quickly, afraid she might misunderstand him and get scared. She felt her throat dry up and couldn't get anything out, so she nodded again.

He took her hand gently and set himself down on his bedding, laying on his side, facing her, his head on his pillow. She lay down right next to him, looking up at his face.

He put his hand on hers, stroking it with his thumb, and just looked at her, sighing heavily, as if what was happening now required a lot of effort on his part. She smiled at the thought, and he blinked.

"What?" He muttered, wrinkling his brow, embarrassed, his hand stopped in mid-motion.

"I like you." She said softly, sincerely, warmly, feeling wonderful and safe, never had anyone been close to her like this before, no one's touch gave her such pleasure.

She heard him swallow hard and lower his gaze, embarrassed, his thumb began stroking her hand again.

"I like you too." He whispered softly and looked straight into her eyes, there was something intimate, private about it.

She lifted her hand slowly and touched his cheek, running her fingers over his face as if she were treading water with them, she heard him sigh quietly and closed his eyes, drawing in air loudly.

She moaned as he leaned closer, their lips naturally clinging to each other in a hot, wet kiss, he pulled her to him, she could feel the warmth of his body, the trembling of his hands, his restless, laboured breathing.

She blinked when she felt something in his trousers pulsate hard, hitting her stomach. He drew in a loud breath and pulled away immediately, looking at her shocked.

"− I − I'm sorry − I didn't mean to −" He mumbled out embarrassed, and she looked at him surprised, not knowing what he was actually apologising to her for.

"What was that?" She asked amused, raising her eyebrows and he looked at her with parted lips, she had never seen anyone so embarrassed and horrified before in her life.

He licked his lower lip in a nervous gesture, she had a feeling he was never going to get out what he wanted to say, complete chaos in his mind.

"− I − I think I just like you a bit − too much now − you know what I mean − right? −" He asked uncertainly as if to see if she knew what he was talking about, not believing that she could have been that unaware.

She blinked and pressed her lips together, opening her eyes wide when she realised what he meant, felt her cheeks turn all red and swallowed with difficulty.

"− I − if you're uncomfortable, then go − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to − fuck, God, why −" He growled, pressing his face against his pillow, unable to look her in the eye, clearly embarrassed that he was unable to restrain his physical instincts.

She looked at him in disbelief.

He desired her.

"− no − I mean − nothing happened − I felt good about kissing − I know you won't hurt me − it's okay, really −" She mumbled out sincerely believing her words.

He pressed his lips together, looking at her as if in pain, and sighed heavily, lowering his head back down, pressing it to her forehead, stroking her cheek and hair.

They lay like that without saying a word, just looking at each other, breathing quietly, she felt her eyelids growing heavier as she drifted off into sleep, her fingers trailing over the exposed wrist of his other hand.

"Sleep. I'll carry you to Helaena later." He whispered softly, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers, and she hummed quietly under her breath and closed her eyes, concentrating only on the pleasant touch of his warm hand, his thumb stroking her skin.

She felt safe.

She shuddered, not knowing where she was or what was happening when she felt someone lift her, darkness all around her.

She squealed quietly and he hushed her, stroking her back, grabbing her under her hips, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and throw her arms around his neck.

"− shush, Foxy −" He whispered, opening his door quietly, walking slowly towards Helaena's bedroom. He stepped inside trying not to make any noise and placed her gently on the bed beside her, looking at her for a moment longer.

He just ran his thumb over her cheek before lifting himself back up and leaving, closing the door quietly behind him.

She fell asleep feeling a pleasant heat in her heart.

She was falling in love.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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froot-batty · 7 months

Text

post this bird when they least expect it

(LORE BE DOWN THERE)

Oswald Cobblepot was born to a poor family in a small Hungarian village, the eldest child of what would come to be six children. From the moment he could function by himself, he was expected to take up responsibilities around the house - taking care of his siblings, earning a little extra money when he could. Not because his parents were neglectful, but because they were trying to scrape together what little money they earned from multiple jobs. Oz had to help out somehow, because there was no one else to do it.

Oz was 12 when they left Hungary. His father had gotten desperate and had turned to working for some bad people in order to provide for his family. When continuing down that path grew too dangerous, they fled to Britain, where their life was only a tiny bit better. They were still poor, but by now Oz was able to get a couple of real jobs (through lying about his age) to help properly support the family. However, by his early teen years the symptoms of his IED had begun to develop and show, and his frequent outbursts oftentimes got him sacked or even, on a couple of occasions, jailed for short periods of time.

Though he tried his best to keep his head inside of his home, it was something he couldn't control. He would always feel awful about being cruel to his family after the fact, but he had never been the type to apologize with words, so he decided that to pay them back, he needed to provide even more for them.

This is when Oswald began to dip into criminality. He couldn't keep a proper job, but peddling drugs or breaking bones worked just as well (and even paid better, in most cases). His outbursts even helped him, giving him a reputation amongst low-level criminals that eventually grew into recognition from bigger ones.

These more powerful criminals could see that under the anger and the violence, Oswald was actually incredibly cunning when he was allowed to be. He could come up with schemes that, while risky, did prove to pay out in the majority of cases. Eventually, one of Oswald's more frequent employers and a major crime boss decided to take him in, impressed by how naturally he'd taken to the criminal life.

It was through the experience within that crime family where Oswald really honed his skills. He learned how to be intimidating and send a message without doing more than lifting a finger. He was never able to tame his reactions to the slightest provocations, but he learned how to be less impulsive. Throw his tantrums in the moment, but properly plan after he'd calmed down.

With the trust and wisdom gained from this family, Oswald grew...cocky. He felt untouchable; like he could master the game he'd only recently been taught. The money was coming in, he was respected, feared...and it made him feel on top of the world.

This was when he made a plan. A plan that would get him and his family all the money they needed to leave the country and start somewhere new, somewhere where Oswald could create his own criminal empire and shower them all in all the riches they could ever imagine.

He went behind his employer's back and started to feed information to the other crime families. Things that would not only distract his boss, and leave him and his property vulnerable, but endear him to the other families. Slowly, through a lot of verbal manipulation and betrayal, Oswald stole....a ton of money, from a lot of different people. It only made him more and more confident.

Still, despite all he'd done to get where he was, he hadn't really understood that people in this business do whatever it takes to get ahead. Someone snitched on him to his boss, and he was very quickly dragged right back to where he'd started. Oz was briefly tortured for his disloyalty (where he got his blind eye), and then dragged to a scrap yard, where he was put into an old car under a car crusher.

Luckily, the scrap yard they took him to used a very outdated, very slow machine, so Oz was able to figure out a way to escape undetected. It did, however, leave him with a permanently mangled leg, which he didn't have the means to treat at the time. Instead, he used the remaining time to put his escape plan into action. He collected the money he'd squirreled away and took his forged documents onto a boat headed to America, never saying a word to the family he'd leave behind. As long as the world thinks the person he used to be is dead, they're safe, so he's accepted he can never speak to them again.

Gotham City, the world capital of crime, was the perfect place to build his own criminal empire. He doesn't regret anything that lead to where he is now, but sometimes he does miss what he used to have, though he'll kill you before he admits it. But the way he treats the younger members of the rogues gallery - like wayward younger siblings to reluctantly corral - proves that there's a heart somewhere under all of that ice.

#i need to draw his two favorite employees eventually #“i love my stupid dogshit dumbass terrible kids” - oz probably #frootverse #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #batman #rogues gallery #rogue design #my art

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invisibleicewands · 4 months

Text

Michael Sheen: Prince Andrew, Port Talbot and why I quit Hollywood

When Michael Sheen had an idea for a dystopian TV series based in his home town of Port Talbot, in which riots erupt when the steel works close, he had no idea said works would actually close — a month before the show came to air. “Devastating,” he says, simply, of last month’s decision by Tata Steel to shut the plant’s two blast furnaces and put 2,800 jobs at risk.

“Those furnaces are part of our psyche,” he says. “When the Queen died we talked about how psychologically massive it was for the country because people couldn’t imagine life without her. The steel works are like that for Port Talbot.”

Sheen’s show — The Way — was never meant to be this serious. The BBC1 three-parter is directed by Sheen, was written by James Graham and has the montage king Adam Curtis on board as an executive producer. The plot revolves around a family who, when the steel works are closed by foreign investors, galvanise the town into a revolt that leads to the Welsh border being shut. Polemical, yes, but it has a lightness of touch. “A mix of sitcom and war film,” Sheen says, beaming.

But that was then. Now it has become the most febrile TV show since, well, Mr Bates vs the Post Office. “We wanted to get this out quickly,” Sheen says. With heavy surveillance, police clamping down on protesters and nods to Westminster abandoning parts of the country, the series could be thought of as a tad political. “The concern was if it was too close to an election the BBC would get nervous.”

I meet Sheen in London, where he is ensconced in the National Theatre rehearsing for his forthcoming starring role in Nye, a “fantasia” play based on the life of the NHS founder, Labour’s Aneurin “Nye” Bevan. He is dressed down, with stubble and messy hair, and is a terrific raconteur, with a lot to discuss. As well as The Way and Nye, this year the actor will also transform himself into Prince Andrew for a BBC adaptation of the Emily Maitlis Newsnight interview.

Sheen has played a rum bunch, from David Frost to Tony Blair and Chris Tarrant. And we will get to Bevan and Andrew, but first Wales, where Sheen, 55, was born in 1969 and, after a stint in Los Angeles, returned to a few years ago. He has settled outside Port Talbot with his partner, Anna Lundberg, a 30-year-old actress, and their two children. Sheen’s parents still live in the area, so the move was partly for family, but mostly to be a figurehead. The actor has been investing in local arts, charities and more, putting his money where his mouth is to such an extent that there is a mural of his face up on Forge Road.

“It’s home,” Sheen says, shrugging, when I ask why he abandoned his A-list life for southwest Wales. “I feel a deep connection to it.” The seed was sown in 2011 when he played Jesus in Port Talbot in an epic three-day staging of the Passion, starring many locals who were struggling with job cuts and the rising cost of living in their town. “Once you become aware of difficulties in the area you come from you don’t have to do anything,” he says, with a wry smile. “You can live somewhere else, visit family at Christmas and turn a blind eye to injustice. It doesn’t make you a bad person, but I’d seen something I couldn’t unsee. I had to apply myself, and I might not have the impact I’d like, but the one thing that I can say is that I’m doing stuff. I know I am — I’m paying for it!”

The Way is his latest idea to boost the area. The show, which was shot in Port Talbot last year, employed residents in front of and behind the camera. The extras in a scene in which fictional steel workers discuss possible strike action came from the works themselves. How strange they will feel watching it now. The director shakes his head. “It felt very present and crackling.”

One line in the show feels especially crucial: “The British don’t revolt, they grumble.” How revolutionary does Sheen think Britain is? “It happens in flare-ups,” he reasons. “You could say Brexit was a form of it and there is something in us that is frustrated and wants to vent. But these flare-ups get cracked down, so the idea of properly organised revolution is hard to imagine. Yet the more anger there is, the more fear about the cost of living crisis. Well, something’s got to give.”

I mention the Brecon Beacons. “Ah, yes, Bannau Brycheiniog,” Sheen says with a flourish. Last year he spearheaded the celebration of the renaming of the national park to Welsh, which led some to ponder whether Sheen might go further in the name of Welsh nationalism. Owen Williams, a member of the independence campaigners YesCymru, described him to me as “Nye Bevan via Che Guevara” and added that the actor might one day be head of state in an independent Wales.

Sheen bursts out laughing. “Right!” he booms. “Well, for a long time [the head of state] was either me or Huw Edwards, so I suppose that’s changed.” He laughs again. “Gosh. I don’t know what to say.” Has he, though, become a sort of icon for an independent Wales? “I’ve never actually spoken about independence,” he says. “The only thing I’ve said is that it’s worth a conversation. Talking about independence is a catalyst for other issues that need to be talked about. Shutting that conversation down is of no value at all. People say Wales couldn’t survive economically. Well, why not? And is that good? Is that a good reason to stay in the union?”

On a roll, he talks about how you can’t travel from north to south Wales by train without going into England because the rail network was set up to move stuff out of Wales, not round it. He mentions the collapse of local journalism and funding cuts to National Theatre Wales, and says these are the conversations he wants to have — but where in Wales are they taking place?

So, for Sheen, the discussion is about thinking of Wales as independent in identity, not necessarily as an independent state? “As a living entity,” he says, is how he wants people to think about his country. “It’s much more, for me, about exploring what that cultural identity of now is, rather than it being all about the past,” he says. “We had a great rugby team in the 1970s, but it’s not the 1970s anymore and, yes, male-voice choirs make us cry, but there are few left. Mines aren’t there either. All the things that are part of the cultural identity of Wales are to do with the past and, for me, it’s much more about exploring what is alive about Welsh identity now.”

You could easily forget that Sheen is an actor. He calls himself a “not for profit” thesp, meaning he funds social projects, from addiction to disability sports. “I juggle things more,” he says. “Also I have young kids again and I don’t want to be away much.”

Sheen has an empathetic face, a knack of making the difficult feel personable. And there are two big roles incoming — a relief to fans.

Which leads us to Prince Andrew. “Of course it does.” This year he plays the troubled duke in A Very Royal Scandal — a retelling of the Emily Maitlis fiasco with Ruth Wilson as the interviewer. Does the show go to Pizza Express in Woking? “No,” Sheen says, grinning. Why play the prince? He thinks about this a lot. “Inevitably you bring humanity to a character — that’s certainly what I try to do.” He pauses. “I don’t want people to say, ‘It was Sheen who got everybody behind Andrew again.’ But I also don’t want to do a hatchet job.”

So what is he trying to do? “Well, it is a story about privilege really,” he says. “And how easy it is for privilege to exploit. We’ve found a way of keeping the ambiguity, because, legally, you can’t show stuff that you cannot prove, but whether guilty or not, his privilege is a major factor in whatever exploitation was going on. Beyond the specifics of Andrew and Epstein, no matter who you are, privilege has the potential to exploit someone. For Andrew, it’s: ‘This girl is being brought to me and I don’t really care where she comes from, or how old she is, this is just what happens for people like me.’”

It must have been odd having the prince and Bevan — the worst and best of our ruling classes — in his head at the same time. What, if anything, links the men? “What is power and what can you do with it?” Sheen muses, which seems to speak to his position in Port Talbot too. Nye at the National portrays the Welsh politician on his deathbed, in an NHS hospital, moving through his memories while doped up on meds. Sheen wants the audience to think: “Is there a Bevan in politics now and, if not, why not?”

Which takes us back to The Way. At the start one rioter yells about wanting to “change everything” — he means politically, sociologically. However, assuming that changing everything is not possible, what is the one thing Sheen would change? “Something practical? Not ‘I want world peace’. I would create a people’s chamber as another branch of government — like the Lords, there’d be a House of People, representing their community. Our political system has become restrictive and nonrepresentational, so something to open that up would be good.”

The actor is a thousand miles from his old Hollywood life. “It’d take a lot for me to work in America again — my life is elsewhere.” It is in Port Talbot instead. “The last man on the battlefield” is how one MP describes the steel works in The Way, and Sheen is unsure what happens when that last man goes. “Some people say it’s to do with net zero aims,” he says about the closure. “Others blame Brexit. But, ultimately, the people of Port Talbot have been let down — and there is no easy answer about what comes next.”

#Michael Sheen #Times #Interview #Nye #The Way #A Very Royal Scandal

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cialovesklopp · 1 year

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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ➺ k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — when your whole career is crashing down, one finds out that tequila and an unknown man become your best friends.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.6k

mon amour — masterlist

where did it all go wrong? amara imani truly didn’t know. her life went from a fairy tale to a nightmare in the span of a few weeks, and now she was back where she started. nowhere.

how could she have gone from loving her life so much and being proud of the person she had become and all that she had achieved to having to hide herself within the four wall of her apartment and not being able to recognise her own reflection.

everyday another new version came out, the same story just with a different title and a little bit further from the truth than it was before. all about the same cheating scandal she witnessed unfold with her very own eyes. yet she never saw it coming.

some could say love made her blind. no, it didn’t. it made me stupid amara thought. now all that so-called love had left to offer her was a broken heart and a shattered reputation. and she cursed love with every fiber of her being for realizing that she had been played by an below average man for the last two years.

hiding in paris hadn’t actually been her original plan but after having to cancel her tour, she had thought that in the french city, people wouldn’t recognize her as much as they did in the usa. she had thought wrong. paparazzi in paris were just as ruthless as they had been in new york and los angeles. even in paris, she wasn’t able to hide her face and get a break from all the drama without being blinded by flashing lights everyday.

amara had been lucky that grace had some extended family in the french capital that had been nice enough to let the singer stay in their modest cottage apartment till the newspapers and celebrity magazines stopped twisting the narrative to make amara look like the villain in her own relationship.

was amara hurt by her boyfriend cheating? not really. she grew up in a third world country where there was a lot more to worry about than a boy breaking your heart. it was her dignity and ego that was screaming pain.

he could have done it privately, spare her the humiliation and stress of the whole world finding out at the same time as she did. she would have preferred finding their text or photos - it would have hurt less. but no, he wanted to leave a mark before he left.

he cheated on her with the same person he told her not to worry about. her insecurities and jealousy fits were all in vain as it was always about her. and left amara wishing she had listened to her gut.

nearly two years gone. text messages he had sent her were still saved in her phone even though she had blocked his number. the good moments were forgotten and only the bad ones remain.

at least in this little bar she had been offered her peace. the small vintage club was located a little bit more outside of paris, meaning only locals know about it. amara had instantly fallen in love with it as soon as it caught her eye. the flowery design and plants that decorated the outside along with comfy armchairs and small coffee tables made it perfect for amara’s much needed self-care day. what she loved the most about it though was how by night, the dreamy cafe turned into a night bar yet still was filled with comfy, modest glow. le claire de la lune always knew how to cheer her up.

she lost count of how many she had downed but it was clear that she had passed the tipsy stage. it was an average day, with clouds blocking the sun of paris, and yet even with the cool air hit her, she still felt a fuzzy type of warm due to all the alcohol flowing through her system.

the chances that someone recognized her in this small bar were low, yet she still refused to take any risks and opted to leave her sunglasses on. she gratefully reached for the drink she had ordered, flashing the waiter one of her famous red-carpet smiles. sipping on her drink, she went through her phone but stayed away from her social media. checking the time again, she looked on her phone for any new messages and yet everything looked the same as she had left it fifteen minutes ago.

are you still coming?

so sorry, don’t think i will be. it’s better if we don’t meet up now.

so you’re ditching me?

with everything that’s going on at the moment with you, i think it’s better if we hold our distance

don’t call me ever again

“asshole” she muttered, putting her phone away again. why couldn’t anything go to plan, she cursed, finishing her drink in one shot. the only thing that never disappointed her, tequila.

ordering another drink, she failed to notice the dark brown eyes that lingered on her. it was clear to everyone around her that she was past the normal stage of drunk. if she drank any more, she would pass out sure enough. but amara didn’t care anymore.

she used to. but now she couldn’t be asked. she was past the point of always carrying herself, her own image while evan got to do whatever he wanted because he was a millionaire heir. but she also didn’t see the point anymore in caring. everyday that went by, her reputation got dragged deeper into mud by every news article - everyone was making money off her, except herself.

she took her sunglasses off, dragging her hands down her face in frustration. she wanted to cry. but like ariana grande had said, there were no tears left to cry. she was drained. she had cried it all out after she found out her boyfriend cheated on her publicly. and the stress of having to cancel her tour because of a mental breakdown didn’t make it any better. she didn’t have tears anymore to cry.

“it’s not fair,” she muttered drunkenly. the bartender watched her helplessly, not really sure what to do with her. at her request of filling her glass, he complied, preferring to just do his job and not meddle into his customer’s life.

“can i help you?”

amara jumped slightly which caused her to lose her balance and grab the stranger’s arm to find stability. she truly could not hold her drinking sometime. she let go of the unknown man’s arm, mustering him strangely. he was handsome, that could be said.

“if you can give me back my self-esteem and my reputation then yes, but since i doubt. no you can’t.”

she stood up swiftly in a rash movement but this time her legs did not obey, with the amount of alcohol she had drunk and gave out under her. to her luck, the man had put his arms around her waist, catching her quickly before she could land on the cold floor.

“i’m kylian,” he introduced himself, placing her carefully on the chair next to him. “and i really doubt i could help you with that but my mother always told me, sometimes even only listening is helpful.”

amara’s eyebrows furrowed, confusion appearing on her face. who was this man? and why was he so nice to her? she thought about leaving but some of her dignity was still left — and losing it in front of a stranger was not in her plans so she sat quietly next to him.

“i heard what you said earlier. about something not being fair. do you want to talk about it?”

she rolled her eyes, not even bothering to acknowledge him. she couldn’t lie, he was attractive and handsome, but the alcohol was clouding all her judgment. if she still had her reputation, she would have probably asked him out or flirted with him, but right now — honestly, all she could feel was annoyance and tiredness.

“don’t you have anything else to do instead of bothering me?”

he chuckled, shrugging carelessly. “well, i was here with my friend but he kind of dumped me because he found someone more entertaining than my company.” he pointed with his finger to a black man, currently flirting — that’s what it seemed like in amara’s perspective — with a brunette woman. amara had seen her here when she had come in.

she laughed and held out her hand, waiting for him to grab it. he seemed surprised at her swift mood changement but nevertheless, accepted her handshake. “welcome to the club of being dumped. i got dumped twice in the span of two weeks.”

her last sentence must have probably lit a light in kylian’s head, seeing his expression change. it must have been dark from her side perspective and the moment she had turned to his, the light fell down completely on her, making her immediately recognizable.

“je suis désolé pour ce qui c’est passé.” the footballer replied solemnly, falling back into his native language. but that didn’t bother amara — it had been too long since she had spoken french, a part of het missed speaking it. “ you didn’t deserve that.” — i am sorry for what happened

his words seemed sincere. a change from all the things that she had heard or been spoken to. she had to watch all the people, who she had considered friends, drop her as quick as she could count just because they deemed their images more important than her. it had truly been a stab in the back.

he didn’t have to say it out loud for them to know what he was referring too. after all, one would have to live behind the moon to not have heard from the whole imani-henderson scandal. one, that seemed to get worse from day to day. “guess you kinda caught me. yes, it’s me, amara imani hiding from the world and getting black-out drunk. what’s there to save anyway.” she exclaimed desperately, shrugging her shoulders, "everybody's talking and talking behind my back. they have no idea how i feel at the moment... a few months ago he acted like he planned on proposing and the moment i go on tour our couple falls and he cheats on me with that brunette nepo-baby that probably never had to work for anything in her life. and to top it all off, they have the audacity to destroy the very thing i hold closest. it’s not fair.”

her voice broke down and she probably sounded a bit watery but as said, she had no tears to cry anymore. pain and hurt outweighed sadness and anger. her reflex made her want to grab her glass but she remembered she had already finished it. she stared at her reflection, lifeless, black eyes staring back at her.

kylian had been in many situations but dealing with a fellow a-list celebrity who was drunk had never been one. as much as he wanted to help, he did not know what to do. especially because he knew that if it was him in that situation, he would have probably wanted to be left alone. but he also couldn’t get himself to leave her like this here -- he preferred to stay.

“why is being a celebrity so hard? it used to be my dream, inspiring people like me that the world is open to them. and look where i am now?” she questioned rhetorically, “ i’m the one who got cheated on. i deserve to be the scorned woman but instead i’m turned into an animal at the zoo, the paparazzi will turn their flashlight on at any chance they get. i’m human too.”

she sighed heavily but for some reason it felt good. ranting to someone about her life -- to someone she didn’t know and who didn’t hold any expectations on her. except for her mother, no one really knew how she felt, no matter how many people tried to put themselves into her situation.

“it’s crazy how much i understand you.” he revealed after a moment of silence, “sometimes the media put things about me in the press, i didn’t even know about myself. i remember how hard it was after i chose to stay in paris. they were literally tearing me apart.”

“but i’m sure you didn’t run away and hide from the world till your pr-manager tells you it's safe again, did you? that route is only reserved for amara imani because she apparently destroyed a relationship.” amara commented dryly. a lump formed in her throat, her stomach feeling heavy because of their topic. she swiftly ordered another drink although she had promised herself to stop the drinking. she was way past drunk.

his body hesitated but he still placed his hand on hers. she relaxed immediately at the sensation — his hand extended warmth and the feeling of heat spread instantly through her body. “i can assure you it’s not the end of it. you will shine again.” he tried to lift her up and removed his hand, amara’s hand still vibrating from the contact.

a soft smile spread on her lips, probably the first since days; a true genuine smile and it was to a stranger she had known for about twenty to thirty minutes. again, she finished her drink in one big sip and placed the glass down before starting to collect her things.

“it was very nice talking to you but i need to leave.” she murmured melancholy. tiredness was also an effect alcohol had on her. instead of making her all energetic and giddy, even the strongest vodka only made her tired. emotions would be running through her body on their highest, with very sensible hormones to the point it tired her out and she passed out from sleep. “i don’t know what I’m still doing here.”

“you are way too drunk to leave now. you can’t even manage to stand up alone.” he objected, raising his eyebrow. it was true, the only reason she had even been able to stand up and call the waiter, was due to her gripping the marble counter with her hand firmly.

“i will be fine. you don’t have to worry.”

“i don’t think my conscience could sleep if i let you home like that.”

“like i said, you don’t have to worry about me.” she reassured him, letting out a chuckle that came out more like a yawn. if she didn’t leave any minute, her body would not hold out on her. “at worst case, if something should happen to me, you’ll read about it first thing in the morning because it will be plastered everywhere.”

laughing lightly at her own joke, amara’s heart lightened as she saw kylian’s face turning from creased with concern to graced with a bright smile as he laughed at her. she scanned his face, taking in every detail of his face, memorising it all as if she was about to take a test on it. she was truly scared, she would forget it all tomorrow.

she immediately noticed the two small dips on either of his face that connected to his smile. amara didn’t know whether they were dimples or not but she couldn’t care less in this moment. all that mattered at the moment was that he was smiling which made her face loosen as a smile fought its way onto her lips too.

he stood up from his stool and reached forward to take amara’s purse. “come on, i’ll bring you home.”

“firstly, you don’t have to and secondly you don’t even know where i live.”

he waved dismissively at her, “two problems with a very easy solution. so how about you tell me your address so i can actually bring you home and sleep at my home with a good conscience that a drunk woman made it back safely?”

“for all i know, you might as well be some creep called kylian who just wants a good picture for the next scandalous issue. i heard they’re paying good for everything that futures me.”

“ouch, and i thought we had bonded,” the french attacker joked, putting a hand on his chest to show his false heartbreak. “but if you want a whole resume of me, then so be it.”

“my name is kylian mbappé, famous star football player and also a celebrity. and i am not out to get a picture of you for your next scandal. wouldn’t serve me anything.” he stated, typing his name into his phone to show it as further proof.

“that’s what they all say.”

“if you need extra reassurance, my driver would gladly be your witness, in any case”, he argued, trying to reassure her. tiredness was practically written on amara’s face and he didn’t know how long she would still last. “just give me your address. i promise, i won’t sell you out to the press.”

another yawn escaped amara’s lips. “well, as much as i would like to give you my address i can’t.”

if he was frustrated, he didn’t show which amara admired him for. evan had hated her stubbornness. “well, what do we have to solve this time? i told you three time already that i don’t plan on doing anything. i have some dignity.”

“i can’t give it to you because i don’t know it myself. my phone is dead and i can’t remember it anymore. i have only lived there for—,” she yawned, “two and a half weeks. and my head is starting to spin.”

“how did you even plan on getting home in the first place?”

she seemed to be thinking about his question, but her eyelids also fell rapidly and kylian noticed that whenever she blinked, her eyelids would stay closed for an extra second. he knew that feeling just all too well.

“you could sleep at mine,” the words left his mouth before he even had time to think about their weight. he was just as surprised about his offer as amara but he didn’t show it. “i have an extra bedroom, you could always sleep there. it’s cheaper than checking into a hotel right now.”

as much as she hated feeling like a burden, she knew he was right. it was well past midnight and she doubted that any hotel right now would open their doors just for her. in addition to that, every muscle of her body yearned for sleep.

he held out his hand, which amara grabbed thankfully, knowing she wouldn’t have the balance to stand upright. as they walked through the club, heading for the backdoor where kylian’s driver would wait for them so they wouldn’t catch any unwanted attention, amara started to snuggle up a bit into his side. by the time the driver arrived, she was already completely on his side, her head laying on his shoulder.

he helped her, holding her hand as they got into the car. he greeted his driver with a nod, mouthing a silent apology for waking him up at that hour. he didn’t say anything about amara, which kylian was thankful for, not wanting the singer to feel like a burden.

it wasn’t a very long ride, but long enough for amara to fall asleep and claim the back seats as her bed, extending her legs over the seats.

what exactly he found so endearing about watching a person sleep was still a mystery to him and yet he couldn’t keep himself from smiling at her completely enamored. seeing her breathe so calmly as she slept, put a smile on his face. after hearing just how horrible the past few weeks had been for her, all he wanted was for her to be able to finally catch a break.

he knew just how many sleepless nights she must have had, staring at the ceiling or turning around in the bed because fatigue just refused to take over your body. flashbacks of the past days would reminisce in the brain and especially the painful emotions were at their highest during these times. having gone through all this, he was happy that she was sleeping so soundly.

kylian had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed they had arrived already. he was brought out of his thoughts by his chauffeur, tipping his shoulder to get his attention and asking him what to do with the woman sleeping on the backseats.

“laisse, je vais m’en occuper,” he had responded to his driver. — leave it, i’ll take care of it

after countless attempts to wake her, kylian gave up and just let her sleep and deep down he was content with himself for his decision. who would dare to wake her after she had finally managed to get some sleep, knowing just how many sleepless nights she must have been through with all the drama?

so instead, the french striker put her carefully, with the help of his driver, into his arms and chose to carry her to bed instead of waking her. she was light, not as light as a feather as some like to say but she wasn’t heavier than other people he had already carried.

he is definitely grateful, the media weren’t able to catch a glance of them because he did not know how to explain to his pr-manager how he managed to be pictured with a drunk, passed out amara imani in his arms.

arriving in the luxurious yet comfy apartment that his mother decorated for him, he headed directly for his bedroom. he laid her softly on the bed, making sure she didn’t wake up though it seemed to him that she was sleeping like the dead at the moment. even the apocalypse happening probably wouldn’t wake her.

kylian was unsure whether he should change her or leave her in her clothes. her outfit was not too uncomfortable that he would feel the need to change her but he knew that skinny jeans and a short crop top weren’t exactly the definition of comfy. he took off her heels softly and decided to leave her like this, scared of stepping over boundaries.

with a last glance over her to make sure everything was okay, he left his room and got ready for the guest room. why he didn’t think of putting her there didn’t even cross his mind, for him it was an obviousness. it felt natural for him even though they had never met in real life before.

with a gentle smile on his face, he finally found sleep after spending thirty minutes thinking about his day and how it turned out.

it was the scent of breakfast that woke amara up from her deep slumber. the moment she left her state of reduced mental activity and her body got control of her conscience, her head began pounding, throbbing with high frequency.

she turned around, trying to extend her comfort but it turned out to be useless with a big headache preventing her. her eyelids opened slowly and closed in the same tempo once they made contact with the bright sun shining through the windows. the curtains which were drawn in front of it barely made an attempt to stop the powerful sun from shining through.

again, the scent of breakfast made its way into amara’s nose, a loud grumble of her stomach following next yet she had no desire to leave the bed. her body snuggled against the big, cloudy duvet that she covered it with and her head felt like paradise, laying on the comfortable big pillow.

as she felt another sharp pain in her head, she decided to stand up and realised she was not in her new parisian apartment she had recently rented, looking at her surroundings. instead of her usual marble nightstand, where a candle and a box of tissues were located, she was met with a white night stand that contained her purse and phone.

instantly, memories of the previous night rushed through her mind at the sight of the black hermes clutch she remembered having worn yesterday. amara also noticed that she still wore yesterday’s clothes which filled her body with relief. she had excluded the scenario of having slept with someone -- for that her left bedside was way too tidy and she had slept too messily -- but was grateful, she hadn’t done anything stupid last night.

removing the big, white sheets from her body, amara stood up, incapable of calming her desire for food down anymore. especially when it smelled like pancakes and waffles, her typical hangover food. she tip-toed through the room, spotting her high heels next to the bed as she looked for a place where she could charge her phone. she found success in the corner next to the nightstand and plugged her phone in before leaving it like that. either way, amara was sure that it would collapse again from all the messages that would be flooding her notification centre.

she followed the smell of food that brought her to the kitchen finding the man that had been kind of enough to let her stay. he was standing behind the stove, moving to the music in his airpods, as he flipped the pancakes. amara remembered only bits of him last night, the strongest information being his smile.

kylian looked up and greeted the singer, standing at the dining table in the kitchen with a smile. he reached for his phone next to him and stopped the music playing in his headphones to give her all his attention. “bonjour madame dormir,” he joked, and amara immediately noticed the two small dips that formed around his smile that were so attractive to her last night. and still were.

“bonjour ky-,” she started, embarrassment visible on her face as she failed to remember the name of the man that had been more than kind to her. she searched her mind for any memory or hint of his name but came up empty which kylian found highly amusing.

“it’s kylian,” he replied, amusement clearly visible on his face.

amara slapped a hand on her mouth to stop herself from laughing but only managed to hide the small chuckles that left her lips. “i am so sorry,” she mumbled, apologizing.

he waved dismissively, not caring about her failed attempt to remember his name. truthfully, he hadn’t expected her to remember anything, after all he had seen the amount she had drunk yesterday.

“don’t worry about it,” he assured her, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. along with two painkiller pills, he handed it to her which she took gratefully but couldn’t contain the surprise at his behavior. she finished the glass of water in one big gulp, her head immediately feeling relieved after the intake of medicine and took place at the big kitchen counter.

“so, i didn’t really know what you would like for breakfast but I guess, you can’t go wrong with pancakes and waffles, right?” he chatted, his good mood clear in his voice as he handed Amara a plate of pancakes with fruits as side. she hesitantly accepted the plate, not because she was wary of the food but more because she wasn’t used to this treatment.

In nearly two years of relationship they had had, evan had never acted the way kylian did. whenever she would come home from a night out with friends or family, he would watch her suffer in silence and continue on with his day. not that she expected him to do so but it would have been nice to know your boyfriend cared after seeing his girlfriend hungover with a headache.

she hadn’t been very subtle with her reluctance to take the place as kylian asked her after it. she shook her head dismissively, soft smile gracing her lips. “it’s just, I’m not used to this. ev- he never did this for me. I would have to do everything.”

“he’s an idiot,” kylian commented dryly. “he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” he added before finally starting to eat.

it wasn’t an awkward silence between them. they were comfortably eating in each other’s presence after such an eventful night. amara enjoyed her breakfast to the fullest as well as this uncomplicated time. she knew the moment she stepped into out of this apartment, she would clash with reality again and brought back to her current life.

looking at the time, amara was shocked to see that it was already half past twelve. she wasn’t in a hurry but also didn’t want to extend her stay. she couldn’t avoid reality forever.

“you didn’t tell me what exactly made you think paris could be your escape place,” kylian began, trying to start a conversation. amara groaned, knowing she would embarrass herself again with her answer.

“well, i was on tour like i said before all this happened. and my next show should have been in Nice — actually it was in Nice. so we went there, i performed and then i had a mental breakdown and couldn’t perform anymore. i had to stop my performance and later then stop my tour because the media was destroying me. but grace, my pr-manager and best friend, thought i couldn’t stay in nice so she placed me in paris, organized everything and practically send me there. i’m just trying to make the most out of my situation at the moment.” she explained, somehow embarrassed about the way she sounded. “or maybe, that’s even the end of my musical career.”

“you shouldn’t say stuff like this, people might think you believe that,” kylian advised softly, “if i said stuff like that after every loss, i would be fresh meat for the wolves. you need to carry yourself, be confident. the mind is as important as your own image.”

“easier said than done.”

finishing her food, she stood up and headed for the bedroom in which she had spent the previous night in. she passed several pictures, hung up in the hallway that her eyes lingered on. she envied the smile he was pictured with, lifting the world cup. or the way the twinkle in his eyes shined through the picture as he held the ligue 1 cup he had won with his team. she remembered the way it used to be her.

the girl who couldn’t believe her dream had become true. they had called her the next beyonce, the upcoming queen of pop/ rnb because she liked to mix both styles in her song. back then it had been everything to her. she had poured everything into her first album and it had won her a grammy. she had carried that spark into her relationship but a year into it and it had extinct.

she had to admit to herself that the critics were right about her second album. it was mediocre in comparison to her first one. the songs were not dull but they also didn’t bring out the usual effect that was normally carried through her songs. it hadn’t flopped but it also hadn’t been what she had imagined. she had disappointed herself and that always hurt more.

amara picked up her charger and purse and put on her high heels, ready to leave. as she walked through the floor, she stopped again in front of the picture that had instantly caught her attention when she had walked through the hallway the first time.

just the way he seemed so happy, pure happiness radiating from the picture. it was nearly embarrassing that she couldn’t remember anymore when she had been this happy. he had a firm grip around the trophy, the golden medal around his neck overshadowed by it. she felt the way her face loosened, a fond smile appearing slowly on her lips.

“beautiful right?”

she flinched, turning around swiftly to find kylian leaning at the door, arms crossed loosely. he had a smirk on his face, amara didn’t know whether it was because he surprised her or because he caught her staring. “we had actually won the ligue four games before but it’s always another feeling actually holding the trophy. c’est un sentiment extraordinaire.” -- it’s an incredible feeling

“i remember holding my first award.” amara told him, smiling just at the thought of that night. “i was so nervous and it was a bit heavy so it actually fell out of my hands. it was just so surreal.” the sound of her laughter reminded kylian of music. he didn’t know if it was a singer thing that your laugh had to be melodic but he didn’t care. if he could, he would listen to the sound of her laughter everyday.

they walked back to the living room and amara took place on one of the small armchairs that was seated next to a big plant. she looked out of the big window, in awe with the view. for the amount of money he must have paid for this apartment, the view was certainly worth it. from her location, she was able to see the most beautiful things that made paris the so-called city of love. amara recognized the eiffel tower in all its beauty, rising magically into the sky.

“so… how long do you plan on staying?” kylian asked, taking place next to her. he was dragging out her stay while amara was reluctant to extend her stay. although they had only known for a couple of hours, there was chemistry between them.

but he wasn’t the only one not wanting to leave. not when he felt so warm, his apartment felt like home. she felt a sense of belonging even if she had only spent one night.

“don’t really know. a month, a week -- it all depends on how long the media are gonna paint me as a whore and homewrecker.” she replied emotionless, “i mean, i’m not even on social media and i still know what people are saying about me.”

a hint of bitterness followed her voice as she spoke, the resentment against the negative terms she had said were clear in her voice. she swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to seem emotional again in front of him.

“so… what are your plans?”

she shrugged, chuckling at her own reaction. “music, music and maybe if i have a bit time left, more music.

“remember to write a song about me okay?” he suggested in a snickering tone.

she was about to answer but her phone screen lit up, notifying her that grace had called her several times last night and had just tried again to reach her. she sighed, knowing what this would be about. at kylian’s questionable glance, she turned towards, sighing again. “probably a call to tell me there has been new press. maybe this time they’re saying that I deliberately destroyed their couple? who knows at this point.”

amara stood up, grabbing her purse as she got ready to leave. by now it was surely past two. “i really need to leave now. i’ve already extended my stay by long now.” she said kindly.

he wanted to protest but who was he in her life to stop her? he had only known her for a few hours, he wasn’t in any position to beg her to stay. so against his will, he accompanied her to the door, he was surprised at himself, it had never been this hard to let a person go. not even the one night stands he had actually felt a connection with. she was different.

she would have probably stood there forever, staring into his eyes. even though they were dark, amara was able to separate the black of his pupil from his dark brown irises. the sound of her phone vibrating again, brought her out of her trance.

“well, i guess i really need to leave now. thank you so much for letting me stay here again, you really saved me yesterday. would have been really difficult for me. and breakfast was amazing.” she thanked him, taking him into her arms for a quick hug.

“it was nothing, don’t worry.” he retorted dismissively but amara shook her head firmly, contradicting him.

“no, it’s not nothing,” she objected, “you took me, a stranger, who was drunk, in and let me add, you let me sleep at yours and made me breakfast in the morning. that’s not nothing kylian. i’m very thankful for this.”

she was about to turn and press the door handle, to leave the apartment but she decided against.

“you know, i could always give you my number,” amara suggested slyly, grinning brightly, “that way, we can arrange for part two of this.”

“i also think you should give me your number. after all, i have to reach you somehow in case to remind you about my impending song.” he replied, smiling at her and amara found herself falling again for it. the way his smile and the two small dips that formed around his cheeks always were always able to make her swoon, should be studied.

the singer grabbed the first thing she saw in her view that she was able to write with and grabbed the striker’s arm, writing her number along with her name on his forearm. amara

he looked at his arm, amused at the black ink and smiled even brighter when he noticed the little heart next to her name. amara reached forward and pressed a soft kiss on kylian’s cheek, inhaling the smell of his cologne as her skin made contact with his.

“i hope you call,” amara added. the smile that graced her lips was mesmerizing. kylian was used to see it on tv, maybe even on the red carpet but he would have never expected that it would happen here, in the hallway of his apartment. that he would receive her hundred million dollar smile right here.

“i promise i will.”

with a last wave, she left his apartment to go handle the chaos in her own life.

he hated watching her go and just wished that she would stay. he walked back to his bedroom and let himself fall on the bed. opening his phone, he quickly realised that his phone would probably become his best friend in the coming days with her number still written on his arm.

he typed her number into his phone and saved her contact under amara, adding the small heart as she had done on his arm. somehow looking at her profile picture on messenger or stalking her page in instagram filled his heart with a sense of innocent amore.

was he attracted to her? yes. but was that the reason that kylian was so taken to her? no. she was nothing short of perfect (even if she would wholeheartedly disagree). and kylian couldn’t fathom for his life how someone so angelic ended up with a sleaze bag like evan henderson.

he knew it was a long shot but he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she was his at the end of the day. that all her songs from now on would be about him, and they would never be sad or heartbroken, because she would always be happy with him.

kylian was determined that all his goals would be dedicated to her, that they would be each other's safe space, home bestfriend and lover. and that he would never hurt her like evan did. maybe she hadn’t been as lovestruck as he had been, but he would wait for her, he would be patient. because she was worth all the time in the world.

kylian:

hey

amara:

you actually texted

kylian

je le t’avais promis, n’est-ce pas?

amara:

well, the official rule is to wait three days after a date before you text

kylian:

three hours, three days, its all the same

so when am i getting that song?

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sugolara · 6 months

Text

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙨

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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The RV wasn’t fancy but it wasn’t bad either. Dust had begun to form but with a quick swipe of a cloth and opening the windows, the RV looked new; sort of. The blankets seemed a bit torn but they weren't complaining.

A bed was placed in the back, where Shoto had knocked out the second he rested his head. Next to him was Izuku who slept soundly yet was twisted in an awkward manner. In the kitchen area, Katsuki slept on the couch with his arm covering his face. The table that turned into a small bed was where F/n slept.

Except she couldn’t sleep. The sound of thunder was too loud for her to sleep and the growls that came from the rotters didn’t help. She kept eyeing the door to the RV and although it was securely locked, she couldn’t help but let images form in her head.

She was sitting up with her gun and knife next to her. She looked through the blinds as rotters confusingly walked by. She let out a quiet chuckle as she found it kind of funny when the rotters would look around every time a thunder would strike.

“Is the dead you're sort of entertainment, now?” Katsuki asked which startled F/n. “Thought you were asleep.”

“And I thought you were asleep.” Katsuki then sat up, “S’hard fucking sleeping when you never know when one of those freaks will come at you.”

Katsuki let the thunder pass before he spoke again, “Why are you up?”

F/n shrugged, “I hate thunder.”

Katsuki smirked, “Thunder scares you but not the dead? Where the hell did you crawl from?”

F/n glared at him, “I never said I was scared of thunder. I just hate it. Big difference.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Was all Katsuki said and both listened to the sound of heavy rain. While F/n stared at the rotters, Katsuki was having trouble fighting with his thoughts. He eventually let them out, “Why do you hate thunder?”

“Because it’s loud and annoying,” F/n said without glancing at him and instead staring at the rotters, “and every time there was thunder, my sister would sleep in my bed and kick me all night while hogging my blanket. Now, it just feels so wrong sleeping without her next to me.”

Was this the first time she had brought up her family? Katsuki couldn’t remember, “You miss your sister kicking you?”

F/n nodded with a dejected look, still watching the rotters pass by, “...It made me feel like I’m alive.”

Screaming at his thoughts, Katsuki got up from his seat. F/n turned her head when she felt the thin bed dip and saw Katsuki settle next to her, “What are you doing?”

“Having no sleep will do us both no good.” Katsuki said as he moved her gun and knife to the floor.

“So you want to sleep with me?” F/n confusingly asked.

His ears tinted pink, “Well, when you say it like that it just sounds so fucking wrong.”

“You’re the one who was thinking it that way!” F/n whispered, “I was just asking.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up and go to sleep!” Katsuki whispered back and pulled his blanket over his head.

“Jeez, alright.” F/n lied down on her back. For a moment, she stared at the cabinets above and listened to the growls before closing her eyes, “Thanks.”

With his blanket still covering his red face and sleeping with his back turned to her, Katsuki let out a grunt as if to say, you’re welcome. When he thought F/n was asleep, he pulled the blanket away from his face and just listened to the breathing that came from her, Izuku and Shoto.

“But, please don’t kick me.” Katsuki just rolled his eyes.

Shoto was the first to wake up as always. When he went to the front of the RV, he found it really odd to see Katsuki sleeping next to F/n. Had he missed something? Shoto shrugged it off. Maybe he’ll be next.

As for now, he sat on the driver's seat with his legs on the dashboard. He watched as a few dead slowly strolled by before boredom grew on him. He checked the cabinets above F/n and Katsuki and was lucky to find a book.

Settling back into his seat, Shoto read the book until the rain passed. It lightly sprinkled, but he didn’t want to get wet. After what seemed like hours, Shoto heard F/n waking up. He glanced at her as she gripped her neck. “Think I slept wrong.”

“Or maybe it was the 200 pound guy sleeping next to you that couldn’t let you move freely.” Shoto said with a blank stare.

Katsuki flipped him off and yanked the blankets to his head, “Piss off.”

Shoto shrugged and turned back to his book. Getting off the bed, F/n picked up her gun and knife before joining Shoto. She sat on the passenger seat and looked as one of the rotters fell. Shoto eyed her from the corners of his eyes as he closed his book.

He reached into his pocket and handed her a f/c butterfly knife, “Seemed like your style.”

“Thanks.” F/n said as she examined it.

“Do you know how to use those?” He asked.

Without any difficulty, F/n opened the blade and twirled around her fingers with ease, “My dad had one of these.”

“Fucking showoff.” Katsuki said as grabbed his boots. Shoto was impressed to say the least. Closing the blade and placing it in her pockets as well as her knife and gun, she looked towards the back where Izuku slept, “Should we wake him up?”

“Don’t you have to clean his wound?” Shoto asked as he stood up, “The bag is inside the ammo. We’re going to get started.”

Nodding and standing up, F/n grabbed the medical supplies then headed towards Izuku. She sat down next to him and called his name. He seemed to be a light sleeper as he woke up quickly. He glanced at F/n then the medical bag, “Already?”

“Yep,” F/n pulled out the alcohol pads and gauges as well as the tape, “Shoto and Katsuki already headed out. So it’s just us.”

Sitting up, Izuku took off his shirt and then the gauge on his shoulder, “Okay, have at it.”

They both quickly caught up to Katsuki and Shoto. While they made their way to where the cars began, they searched every vehicle for supplies.

“Have you noticed that everything was left untouched?” Izuku asked F/n.

“Yeah, I found that pretty odd.” She responded, “Not once have we found a dead inside the car.”

“Not even a trace of blood.” Izuku quietly said to himself. He wondered if something went wrong and if they were walking into a trap.

They made their way back to Shoto and Katsuki, “Anything?”

Katsuki shook his head, “Nothing but useless shit.”

They began walking further once again and it was evident they were getting annoyed from how long the blocked cars were. The further they walked, F/n did find it strange how they hadn’t come across a rotter. She would look around to see any sight of a rotter, but not even one came by.

As an hour passed, they could see the freeway being clear of cars. Before they could let out a relief sigh, a car alarm was set off behind them. They gave each other confusing looks before they ducked down when several rotters began to come.

The sound of several rotters growling made the group split up. With Shoto and F/n leaving together, Katsuki and Izuku ran off to the other side.

Shoto and F/n crouched beside cars and tried opening them to enter, however, none of the doors would open. They didn’t have time to move to another car and instead slid underneath the cars. F/n had to take the bag of ammo off and place it infront of her.

They squished each other and stayed quiet while gripping their weapons. They watched as the rotters staggered past them. As they waited, F/n noted the dead rotter a couple steps in front of her.

She tilted her head confusingly and then grabbed Shoto’s attention. She pointed to the dead in front of them. Its head had a word engraved into its flesh; AFO.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #izuku midoria x reader #katsuki x you #izuku x reader #midoriya x y/n #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto x reader

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seeingteacupsindragons · 8 months

Text

YuuMori Remains Spoilers

It's nice to see Lestrade when he's useful and good at his job

Helena: This dude who is holding hostages has such a pure dark color like the inside of a cave, pure evil. William is like fire tho. Lotsa light there.

William: hey wait a minute

Helena: You need light to fight an animal in the dark. And the person who wears the color of fire is--

William: stop complimenting me

Liam has no shoes and has turned off all the light. Because, themes.

Jake: Referencing some weird literature about demons and atoms

Liam: Oooooh, you know Leibniz and Laplace, DO YOU LIKE MATH?

Liam why

I love when he gets all Scary Math Man

But also the fact that he's so into math he has to ask about this while hiding

Villain: No, are you a math geek?

Liam:

Liam: ...no?

(JK, he said yes)

Liam: Math 😍🥺

William stop talking about religion with the murderer

It's hard to read.

He will not

Fucking Herder knows echolocation apparently and taught the crew.

I googled this; apparently this is a real thing some blind people can do.

Liam talking about eyesight is just dripping irony rn

Can you imagine Liam being like "I know echolocation, it's fine!" when Sherlock's worrying over his eye, like, imagine Sherlock's face.

"Are you a fucking bat?"

Vampire Liam headcanons intesnify

Liam: Oh no, please just let me throw perfumes and booze at you, I'm so outnumbered and scared of dying it's not like it can hurt you uwahhhh

Me:

I can't with this

"Civilization is an extension of violence" I MEAN THAT'S A STATEMENT WITH A LOT TO CHEW ON THAT THIS SERIES DEFINITELY WON'T.

"If this continues, a weapon to attack someone in a foreign country with the push of a button might be developed"

Nevermind, YuuMori has entered the traditional anime "NUKES ARE BAD" lesson.

"That's an interesting prediction"

*wince*

Liam set everything on fire again

It's Symbolic because Liam double majored in theatre

"There's not even a single ray of light in the bottom of hell." Listen, this is something that really connects to a thousand other things, but mostly Liam is obnoxious

(I love him)

Patterson: What were you even trying to BUY?

Liam: Oh yeah I want to get all my friends gifts because it might be the last time I can

LIAM MY HEART

Liam: IDK, what do you want?

Patterson: A fucking VACATION.

Liam: fuck

#Yuukoku no Moriarty #Moriarty the Patriot #YuuMoriLT #YuuMori Remains #Yuukoku no Moriarty spoilers #Moriarty the Patriot spoilers #YuuMori Spoilers

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zombiiegrr · 1 year

Text

Brooklyn Baby. (๑>◡<๑)

a dbf! bucky x afab! reader.

word count : 3130

honestly everything is the same but Bucky is like healed happy and he more like amazing soldier then winter solder lol and jazz thanos didn’t happen causes it’s not marvel it’s more like real army idk with Tony still bring a billionaire + vision being ‘normal’ like wandavison and wanda acting like that aswell :)

cw: y/n is down so bad, cocky!bucky, slightly toxic! bucky not at first, age gaps (y/n is 21 while bucky is 38), cursing, smut. jealously, secret relationship. mentions of skin tone doesn’t exist here. daddy issues, slight mommy issues idk characters pick up the reader theyre all STRONG ass men so dont think the reader is supposed to be petite or anything!! ALSO there’s mention of recent readers 21 birthday ok I’m a june 3 gemini so… idk… ur birthday but it’s technically going to be hot in the fanfic so summer but I won’t say birthdates

Your mother had you at 17 leading to your father going into the military at 18 leaving you and your mother, fighting for his country meeting friends turning into family including bucky

i've always thought when someone watches someone growup then bangs them is kinda sooooo odd.. so bucky was never really around the reader when she was a kid he was on duty and when he was around the reader was way to nervous to even be downstairs when he was there so its not like that!!!!!!

music i listened to while writing. some song fit ill tell u to play them

new chapter

this is a series! comment to be added to the tag list

@aemondmylove @arilevinsonhavemybabies @masturbucky @alwayshungryforramen @yvonneeeee

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Now landing in New York! enjoy your holiday or welcome home!” The flight attendant says waking you up. You stood gain the feeling back in your legs, got your suitcase from above you wait for the people in front of you to get their items.

Your phone finally gained service flooding in texts from your roommate asking if you got on the flight safe. a bit from your mother telling you to make your dad get you things and more family telling you to have fun and say hi to your father for them. after reading most you finally got to your father's texts telling you his friends were coming to the airport to get you and to be “nice to them”

Just great. You loved your dads' friends the only thing was you had a crush on about every one of them realizing how attractive they are when you hit puberty making you shy around them leading to them thinking you dislike them. It had been 8 years since you left to California to live with your mother for school/the social life (Californian here!) Visiting during summers, Christmas, Thanksgivings and or your father's birthday. After 18 you choose spending summers and most holidays with your father and mother sometimes coming with.

Your fathers' main friends. Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, San Wilson, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, James Rhodes. James “Bucky” Barnes, & Scott Lang. Your father had a lot of friends from all over and They were all handsome, but Bucky was breathtaking. You hadn’t seen him in 8 years well you seen him but hadn't even had a full convo you would avoid him like the plague being so embarrassed of the things you talked about with your friends when they pointed him out in family vacation photos.

You finally fully got off the plane moving quicky not wanting to be late and make them wait outside as you arrive outside blinded by the brightness of the sun as you wait for your eyes to adjust. As you finally get the hang of the brightness you hear some walking fast behind you “NO WAY SAME AIRPORT!?” Scott says as he walks over holding cassies hand as she waves aggressively with her other hand you smile wide knowing Scott lived above you in California , San Francisco. So it made sense landing in the same airport.

A car horn makes you all look over quickly seeing an Chrysler 300 with a metal arm out the window meeting the glasses of a guy smirking at you and before you could react someone busts open the back door making your face light up realizing who it was.

“DOUNTTTTT!!!!!” Clint screamed getting looks from other people there as you ran to him aswell

“HAWKEYE!!!” Clint had earned the name hawkeye when he had been the only one approved to use a bow and arrow with guns on the field and according to your dad he moved and had the eyes of a hawk giving him the nickname “Hawkeye” which you loved as a child still using now when he called to check on you helping you during fails and letting you stay with his family during fights with your mom.

"Geez you look all different kid had to make sure it was you." Clint says as he hugged you tightly giving you a kiss on the forehead while taking your suitcase in the other arm.

"Is that really you superstar you got taller or is something else different?" A kind smile meets your eyes as Sam reaches over the driver's seat "Well, I'm 21 now! last time you seen me I was like what 17?" Clint nods his head as he puts your suitcase in the back of the car.

“WHATS UP TINY” Sam says as he gets out the car to run and hug Cassie earning a giggle from Cassie as he lifts her up “oh you brought your father” sam jokes as he puts her down “Yeah ok Sam it’s great to see you to” Scott laughs as he hugs him and Clint

"Hello ladybug" Bucky says removing his glasses. he called you ladybug when he came home from duty to you welcoming him home with your dad in a ladybug outfit and when you dyed your hair red and black and always wore black and white. You liked ladybugs and liked that the few times you spoken; he had called you one.

"James-" he laughed slightly at your formality reminding you that bucky was fine making your stomach fluttery at the eye contact "Almost drove past you bug. You look beautiful you father talks about you like you're still a kid hiding from us on the stairs. But then I seen Scott your a lifesaver Scott " Bucky eyes you making you feel small under his gaze.

"Woah lay off the charm handsome" Scott laughs out loud not causing Bucky to break eye contact just smirk a bit more.

You get in the car begging bucky to drive you home fast He laughs and jokes about how insane Californians are with driving. OfCourse the two in the car start agreeing and shit talking Californians. You laugh seeing as you were literally in NEW YORK and so were they. and in an argument between the worst driving between New York and Cali? New York takes the cake or at least in your opinion.

you see scott putting his stuff in the back and you asking if Scott and Cassie were getting a ride then you got confirmation that Scott was invited by your father and you would be going to the same place!

the car ride was a bit quiet besides humming from you or clint. Many questions from Cassie before she passed out knocked out after 5 minutes. Bucky did ask about school, housing, and asked how your mom was doing. You answered all happily just happy to talk to anyone other then your roommate or your mom. Sam starts to ask the ‘good’ questions asking if you had had a drink yet since you had (recently) turned 21 extremely quietly looking over at Cassie You answered half ass knowing you truthfully had only had a few cocktails and maybe a beer while at a party only enough to get tipsy nothing getting you drunk.

You Start to pull up to the house watching your father standing outside with Tony talking about something noticing us pulling in.

“OH YOUR HOME” you father says LOUDLY gaining a very blank stare from Tony covering his ear rolling his eyes. He parks and you run out to hug your father being too broke to see him but not wanting to ask others to pay for a ticket you hugged him for a while before tony ask how long it’s been since you had seen each other.

“6 Months. Longest time since I was on duty.” You father answers gaining a frown from you. “College payment. I went broke and tried working overtime but my car-“your father cut you off with another hug reminding you that you’re here now daddy issue go crazy.

It had taken a while to repair the relationship with your father dealing with the damage of what he did and how his cheating broke up your family and how he ‘parented you’ due to his own issues and ‘shell shock’ from the years at service you could recognize he was trying so hard to change and heal.

“not to ruin the moment but I have a surprise or well we have a surprise let’s go inside” you dad says as you watch Clint grab your bag so you start walking in with your dad.

Steve, and Rhodes were talking in the kitchen looking over and noticing you. “Hell kid you sure grew up” Steve walks over giving you a big hug seen as those are common today sorry if you hate hugs Rhodes behind also giving you a hug.

“Ok give me the floor please lady’s and gentlemen. I and Darren have decided to force all of you to go on a family trip with us and before any of you say shit like ‘work’ or ‘kids’ or whatever I will slap you i cleared everything for you guys cause I’m me. But yeah kids are coming with causes it a damn huge lake house” Tony says as he pulls his laptop out to pull up the lake house Information.

“We and I mean WE ALL will be staying at Twin Oaks At The Chapin Estate for the summer because I own that place and it sits there collecting dust. HEY, Clint your kids they will have a room with bunk beds and Scott you okay with Cassie bunking them and Morgan?” Scott said it was perfectly fine with him if It was okay with Cassie who was nodding. Tony continued “it’s me and pepper of course Darren already claimed his room Nat and banner are gonna visit but not stay, Vision, Wanda, their kids and Thor will be staying in a place that they decided to rent like a seven-minute walk away from away from us so that’s cool. So that’s three more rooms any takers?

Everyone was kind of collecting information. You were overjoyed about going out to the lake and the family restaurants in that area. Sam said that he was fine with a couch and really didn’t need a room which a few people without rooms started to agree with.

As everyone started talking about rooms and stays and everything else your mind starts to wander to Bucky and the thought you and him staying in the same place overnight although you did feel a bit silly getting so excited over that. You didn’t even realize he was sitting right in front of you at the table smiling at you making you feel warm you stupidly thought if he could hear your thoughts. You thought about asking your dad to put you both in the same room cringing at the look your father would give you.

“hey ladybug” bucky whispers making you look at him making eye contact for the first time in a bit. “Hm?” You ask trying not to express any nervousness especially not around everyone else and especially not in front of him. “excited? I haven’t been on a trip in forever even if we’re staying in New York that place is expensive knowing Tony” you agreed saying you were excited just nervous about getting bored or homesick he laughed a bit and reminded you he won’t let you get bored locking eye contact feeling his knee slightly hit yours before he his smirk slightly grew.

“Okay final decision. Me and pepper, Clint and Laura, The kids, Darren, y/n, Rhodes, and Steve. And for some reason the rest of you prefer the couches? I dont know but I don’t care it’s figured out. Also shit I told the kids I’m sponsoring that he can bring his friends out to the lake and the pool and the gym and all that they aren’t staying but heads up.”

“Parker?” Darren asks. Tony nodded his head as he closed his computer. Everyone looked happy and it make you happy. Bucky would be using a couch which seemed like something he would do but being honest he’ll probably share a room with Steve falling asleep on the couch in Steve’s room of choice. You were fine with him sneaking in your room though

When the thought came to your head your looked at him right away giggling and squeezing your legs together like a teenager everyone looked at your confused and you father asked what was so funny backed up by bucky wondering as-well you laughed again apologizing and changing the subject saying you would be going shopping to pack for the trip backed up by Scott asking if you would be so kind to pick up a bathing suit for Cassie which you agreed

“Do you even remember where everything is?” Bucky teased. Why was he being so flirty? Were you being delusional?? Were you misinterpreting everything? Was he flirting or just hot and talking .

“yeah. Wanna go with just incase I forgot?” Smoothhhh you thought to yourself begging that no one else will invite themselves attempting to keep his invitation quiet.

“Don’t mind if I do. I have the ugliest swim trunks so I have to get new ones hun” he replied getting up saying he would get his keys

Everyone else said it would be smart to go Home and pack or something all deciding to meet up here again the next morning at 7am to start the drive over seeing as it would take a few hours did my research frfr

about 30 minutes later! (>ω^)

“sooo adult Life? How do you like it? I asked this before but in a car full of people and a kid so is it the same answer?” Bucky asked as walked around the clothing store you laughed knowing you did change your answer cause of the people in the car

“It’s shit. My mom forgets I’m a adult and cussed me out because i went to “way to many parties in one week” and posted “things” when I knew people from church view my story so she took my car which caused me to spend everything on a new one which is why I couldn’t pay to come out here” you could feel the words pouring out of you and Bucky was an amazing listener he followed every word you spoke feeling and reading you emotions and you could tell that made your heart pound.

“Man im sorry kid. Why didn’t you reach out? Dumb question I know it can be hard but your ‘uncle’ is a billionaire he would have happily got you a ticket to visit and your dad missed you like crazy he would have definitely helped.”

you frowned again. “oh no ladybug I didn’t mean like you did something wrong I’m just saying we’re here for you. We care and if you ever need to come out here for anything we will happily help. excuse me I’m not the best with words”

“you’re great. thank you bucky.” you said as you hugged his arm he pulled you away a bit which made you confused but then he gave you a full hug in the middle of the store which made you laugh in embarrassment, but you wouldn’t let him go. He smelt so good and covered so much of you he held on to you so tightly and easy it make you shake.

“Woah you're shaking to hard of a hug. Sorry kid” you held on before he could let go and reassured him that you were fine and just a bit touch starved, he let out an attractive laugh whispering take all the time you need. You could feel the change in your panties as you grew wetter in his hold as he whispered asking If you were alright. Making you hold him tighting nodding you head.

You finally let go shaking embarrassed that you were this into a hug for crying out loud. You locked eye contact he was smirkingly as usual looking down at your basket asking if you got everything you needed you nodded asking if he did Aswell seeing as he had nothing.

“Oh no sweetheart I just wanted a excuse to come with” you genuinely felt like you had a flood in your panties you felt so shameless for getting so wet over that over everything he did or said you nodded and smiled at him walking away before you did something stupid.

While in line Bucky was clearly eyeing your basket. The underwear the bikini THE everything or maybe he was just looking over? Unless he asked “isn't that a bit small?” pointing at the bikini “your daddy isn't gonna like that”

“I don’t care what daddy thinks or says I want the bikini”

for once Bucky looked surprised or well for a few seconds before he had a different look on his face he looked so good like he liked whatever I said I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you’re sure it had something with saying daddy.

“Move in line y/n” once again whispering in your ear you did once again feeling that pulse in your panties. If he whispered in your ear one more time you were gonna-

“You total is $226.88 cash credit? Debit? Or Apple Pay” The cashier snapped you out of it with that total as you were so confused how you got that much stuff for a 1-and-a-half-month trip. Before you could think Bucky puts his Card in being way to buff for you to cross over and cancel you just stood there saying nonooooooooo i GOT it when you definitely didn’t have it but Bucky did. Tony slipped him a card

He grabbed your bags grabbing your hand aswell leading you out saying let’s go.

“Bucky that was a lot of money.” He ignores you as you both get back into the car as you keep repeating that he didn’t need to and that you needed to look at everything to see if it was even worth it and he still wasnt repling until he did.

“Y/n i GOT it. Please kid don’t worry about me we’re gonna have so much fun and spend a lot of time together if thats alright with you and if you would stop stressing about some money right now we could start having fun right sweetheart? Thank you.” He said calmly just sternly making me sit back into lt seat

“Atta girl thank you” you almost whimpered outloud he was very leading and it made you weak he probably knew so much things you don’t you want him to teach you

“hellllllllo you’re Home ladybug” you look around seeing that youre in your driveway and start to freak out nervous to ask for his number. “Thank you so much. Is there anyway we could talk? Instagram? Number? Email? Sorry that’s silly.“ you were mixing all of your words up again. he nodded and took his phone out handing his phone to you as you put you phone number in you felt his eyes on you.

“Thank you i was going to ask someone for you number but easy if you did First” you GOT nervous at THE idea that he fought of you.

“good night Bucky don’t forget tomorrow” You said as you got your bags and got out the card.

“Oh i wouldn’t miss it for the world ladybug” he said as he watching you making sure you got into the house safely

until next time sweetheart.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I hope you guys liked this!!! took so long im so sorry plz plz let me know how you guy liked it also Lmk for tag list this is a series.

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mrooops · 1 month

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ok guys, no jokes, but what the fuck?

i want to touch a really really serious topic in pink floyd fandom rn and i want you all to listen to me at least once. i would really appreciate it if you spread this information. thank you

if you're the type of person who writes "well, waters is still better than gilmour", then just please unfollow me forever the fuck out

but it's ok i'll explain you why

well, a little backstory

while many believe that roger's political views are now quite correct, i want to remind you that he supports an aggressive invasion of the country where i live (Ukraine). if you are still interested, then yes, the war in Ukraine is still going on even if in the west now no one wants to pay attention to it anymore. for your understanding, on average we have 100 air raids in the city per month, at least once a week i definitely hear explosions and, yeah, i don’t live in a hot spot. and this guy just goes out and does an interview where he openly says that he supports the aggressor country. yeah, that's right, he was also allowed to speak at the UN council, where he said that the conflict was provoked. very smart. the same guy who said a couple of days before the war that those who believe that it will start are “out of their minds”

ok ok, but how does this relate to gilmour?

very simple. his daughter-in-law is Ukrainian. and her mother lived in a city that was one of the first to be attacked by the russian army. if you have never seen footage from Kharkiv in the first days of the war, then believe me, it was a terrible sight, people tried to help each other as best they could

and it is still going on

i don’t think it's cool to talk shit about one person who supports israel but then turn a blind eye to how another openly says that Taiwan should belong to china and Ukraine to russia and say "well, he is based", "he's better than gilmour"

if you have any other information about gilmour, you can share it with me.

i know you all really like young waters and i see a lot of positive things in him too, but i really can't stand the fact that now people only really look at how he feels about Palestine, even if i see a lot of articles and posts from adults, who say his support for Palestine is also twofold. don't wanna say anything bad about that because i haven’t studied this topic, but i think you can google them yourself, they always just come up

don't get me wrong, i'm not stopping you from sending pictures of him or drawing him, i'm just asking you not to write that he's better than someone else at something when he's not

oh yeah and one last thing...

if you are a supporter of communism, then get the fuck out too, because communism led to the fact that in the 60s in my country they killed almost all the poets who did not write something in support of the state. in history they were persecuted and killed because they wrote in their native language and mentioned Ukrainian culture. communism led to three great famines in our country, when people had so little to eat that they resorted to cannibalism. it's very scary, but it's true. this is what the government has led to when it wants to bring communism to life

communism is not a cool thing. it's cool in words, not on practice, read history

thank you for your attention

#roger waters #pink floyd #david gilmour #ukraine #palestine

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footemoji · 1 month

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I’m having a hard time understanding a lot about this conflict. Today, in the USA (Chicago Illinois, San Francisco California, and in New York) Pro-Palestinian activists decided to block the bridges to prevent people from entering or leaving. As a result, people waited for a minimum of 5 hours before the bridge was completely opened for them to cross. I’ve been reading stories of people who were transporting stem cells, sick people, etc who weren’t able to make it out.

According to the protestors, their goal was to cause an “economic blockade” by causing everyone to not be able to go anywhere

Shockingly a lot of Palestinians were supporting this saying that inconveniencing Americans is a good way to bring light to the situation happening in Gaza. I’ve even had some say that the few lives that were lost because of this were “fine” because it’s for the cause. I don’t want to believe that everyone is this cruel, so I will give my thought generally speaking.

I’m not an expert on these things, I don’t know much so im just using logic. Joe Biden is not the supreme authority over Israel. So let’s say that the USA stops sending aid to Israel completely. Let’s say they cut ties. Where will the protesting end up then? Will it move to another country who may support Israel? The way I see it is, Israeli government is going to do what it wants to do whether America sends it money or not.

Secondly, why is it that Americans have to suffer for what we cannot control? Blocking the bridge did nothing for the people in control. They were comfortably in their homes, meanwhile working mothers and fathers lost job time because of this. People have children to feed. How is what’s happening in Gaza somehow the fault of innocent civilians?

This act today was just cruel and my heart hurt because of it. I in no way am turning a blind eye to the suffering of those in Israel, whether that be Israeli or Palestinian. But at some point we really have to think about where our actions will take us. I’m curious to know if anyone is sharing the same thoughts as I am. Again, I am not educated on the conflict to where I can speak confidently about it 100%, im just looking at this from a logical standpoint.

hi!! i’d love to try and explain but im not an expert i just can see whats right and whats wrong easily.

so protests are supposed to be seen so im assuming they did such an extreme act was to be noticed and to show the government the lengths they’re willing to go for this cause.

and the genocide in palestine is a HUGE cause. over 13,000 children have died. and 33000+ people in total. and the usa is funding the people committing the genocide, these protesters are trying to convince the government to stop funding israel’s mass killing.

it really goes to show that a couple people dying unjustly in america causes a bigger outrage than all the unjust deaths in gaza.

i dont get what you say that if the US stops funding israel nothing will change. A LOT WILL CHANGE!! the usa not funding israel will give them less power which is great!

Also, that last part i’d like to say. israel is not real. its stolen land from palestine. so don’t say “the suffering of those in israel” its the suffering of those in palestine.

#free palestine 🇵🇸#free gaza #free palestine

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zoguy1 · 11 days

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Idea dump

So I've been seeing people redesign the trolls to have more animal-like qualities. And I freaking love it. The furries are taking over the fandom. Lol. I've been thinking about the evolutionary benefit of these more animalistic qualities as well as the cannon qualities they have. So I want to make a list of all my thoughts.

So tails are one of the main ones I've seen. I think an evolutionary benefit to having tails is balance. They live in pods in trees, so it would make sense for them to have tails that help with balance. I think the only Trolls to not have these types of tails are Country and Techno. Techno for obvious reasons, they live in water, they don't need it. And country because they don't live in trees. They also don't need it.

Since trolls are drugs, I think the main reason why they have bright ass colors is the same reason why frogs and butterflies have bright colors. It was meant to signify to other species that they were poisonous, or at the very least, give off the illusion they were poisonous. But the Bergens, like humans, found out a way that they could consume a troll without getting poisoned, and might even have Hallucinogens like effects. Trolls could also possibly be an addictive substance as well given the Bergen's reliance on them.

White in animal coats is supposed to confuse predators. It's the reason why a lot of animal butts and tails are white. Glitter trolls and K-pop trolls might be glittery and iridescent for the same reason: to confuse predators. The shitting glitter thing might also be like why squids shit ink. To blind the predator so the troll can make an escape.

We know when Trolls are depressed, they turn gray. Given the poison frog theory earlier, the reason why they go gray is because they aren't producing the chemical that gives off the drug. I also like to think that it could be an evolutionary advantage. The gray color helps them camouflage better. I've seen some artwork where trolls have stripes, and I think that this would be the only time a Pop troll would have visible stripes. Since stripes help a lot of animals camouflage. When a Pop troll is happy, their stripes are invisible. Maybe we could have it so that the naked *human* eye is invisible, but to other trolls, it's not, very similar to cats.

I think the Reggaeton trolls are the only trolls (that I've seen so far) to have visible stripes (or is that body paint? Idk it kinda hard to tell) is because their homeland is probably more colorful. I also think Rock trolls should have stripes as well, as they are in fact gray trolls. I also think the gray could be an advantage to the rock trolls as they do live in a volcano, they blend in with the ash more.

A counter-opinion that my BF, @miel-deerling, told me about. The reason why the Reggeaton trolls have brightly colored stripes is similar to why birds have bright colors. In his words "the reggaton trolls could probably have stripes for similar reasons that birds are colorful especially as reggaton is a very sensual genre. Lots of singing about sex and wanting love and stuff like that Reggaton trolls use bright colors to attract each other or other trolls as possible mates maybe?"

Claws and fangs I see a lot in fanart. Obviously, this is to help with fighting. I think Pop trolls would probably have the dullest claws and fangs because the Bergens would probably try to breed those traits out of them. And Rock would have the sharpest fangs and claws because that would be metal as hell.

Techno trolls I feel should have a dorsal fin. I've also heard webbed fingers for the Technos and I wholeheartedly agree. I also think they should have more pixel freckles across their body, cuz that would confuse the predators more. Trollstopia is inconsistent with whether or not trolls are bioluminescent. Fans suggested the idea that Synth is the only Techno troll to not glow. My hot take is that their bioluminescent works a lot like the Pop Trolls' colors, where if they're depressed or stressed they can't glow. Evolutionary this is very helpful for hiding from predators. Extremely inconvenient for poor Synth.

I've seen people give the Classical trolls angel wings. I think that's very cute with the cherub theme, however, I think they should have butterfly wings, cuz it ties into the poison frog theory. Butterflies also want to give the illusion of being poisonous and since Classical trolls are glitter trolls and have pastel hair, it kinda gives off butterfly vibes.

Pop trolls should also be more naturally chubby than the other trolls, simply because they were kept as livestock, and given that humans bred animals like chickens to be fat so they could feed more. The Burgen probably did the same with the Pop trolls.

The theory I hate the most is the reason why Cooper shits cupcakes. I think the reason why he does this is the cutesyified version of what real animals do. They eat their waist because there are still nutrients in there and they want to get as much nutrients as possible, and I'm going to barf if I continue talking about this.

The reason why trolls are so musically based, whereas every other species isn't is because they use music to ward off predators.

That's it for now. I'll probably repost if I come up with other ideas.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #headcanons #trolls headcanons

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stareyedsheeple · 5 months

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hello!! im doing this as part of the social media storm for the icj hearing on january 11th-january 12th, and also because i generally feel as though i haven't done as much posts about palestine as i would have liked to. more under the cut.

the violence committed against the palestinian people by israel has been going on for nearly 100 days at the time of writing– although it has been going on, truthfully, for roughly 75 years. the death toll has risen to 23,000+ and counting. palestinians again and again have been chased from their homes, with the amount reaching 1.9 million palestinians with their houses forcibly taken away (x), and some fully destroyed. they have been brutalised and treated as less than human for existing on land that the israeli government deemed theirs. the streets of palestine smell of rot and flood with sewage; the palestinian people have held their dead infants for the camera for the camera to see, recorded their children dying, far more than anyone should ever have to do, just to gain enough compassion from the world to stop israel's bombardment, just to make sure their lives and their entire existence isn't lost to bombs and false statements from israel about whats currently going on, and yet again and again western governments have continued to turn a blind eye and in the us' case, assist in the genocide of the palestinian people while preaching peace and unity. 97% of water in gaza is unfit for consumption, and "[...] famine is right around the corner."

in this case, it also falls upon us, people outside palestine, to spread the word about palestine and hope enough pressure falls upon our politicians to make real change for palestinians, who have undergone unimaginable amounts of pain and deserve to see a world where they can live freely and without suffering. moreover, in motaz's words (who everyone should definitely follow, he is a good journalist and is extremely resilient in the face of what has happened to him), (edit: he has now left gaza, but nonetheless, i believe it is important to uplift palestinian voices regardless of where they are) we cannot call ourselves a free people if we can be so against such an awful thing happening and see no yield from our presidents and governors past a shrug of the shoulders and a vague statement about not liking the death of innocents. we cannot call ourselves a free people if israel can so blatantly bypass several laws, killing hundreds of journalists and health workers (one more journalist was killed recently, hamza al-dahdouh. i would feel wrong to not mention him during this portion. his father is staying strong even in the face of it, and i wish him a dignified funeral when this is all over and a proper time for his surrounding family to grieve.) trying to ease the strain in gaza, who have done far more good than i could ever hope to do in my lifetime, along with many more innocent civilians, because what does that say about the effectiveness and application of these laws? what does that say about our actual safety at the end of the day, that if, in the eyes of western governments, the right person is behind the trigger, they can shoot whoever they want with no consequence? the genocide of the palestinian people by israel is directly related to everyone on this planet, and until we have them and everyone else under the boot of a genocidal regime freed, we are not free either.

we MUST call for a free palestine, for every palestinian within it, for those who were killed calling it, so that maybe in this lifetime we see real change for palestinians, so that maybe everything gets a little better in the world. it won't be a fast change, it'll require a lot of yelling and stomping and pushing against israel and the us and everyone else who benefits from whats happening to the palestinian people, it'll take the disassembling of a country built on the corpses of palestinian people and planning to take far more away with its bombings of lebanon and syria, but that does not mean its impossible, just hard. i do truly believe change can be made with enough people dedicated to the cause and enough pressure placed upon governments who can intervene via protests, boycotts, educating one's self about the genocide via literature and documentaries, and calling + emailing representatives about the genocide. below is an assembly of links talking about whats going on and also statements by palestinians, i'll stop rambling on. free palestine. and FUCK ISRAEL!

info on the sde teimen concentration camp (couldnt find a non-paywalled vers of the article linked in post)

decolonise palestine

gaza is starving

wael al-dahdouh's statement on his son (and general family)'s death

south africa's statement submitted to the international court of justice

palestinian hostage says he was sent into a hamas tunnel strapped with bombs

article + video of idf soldiers detaining dozens of palestinian civilians (including elderly people and children) half naked into a stadium

reporting of attacks on refugee camps and hospitals, of which there are many, so heres a few (x) (x) (x)

more than 10 kids per day on average lose one or two limbs in gaza

several amputations done on palestinian children without anaesthesia

the brutality of israeli prisons && camps

house to house executions in gaza by israeli soldiers

coverage of palestine in the media and bias towards israel

and, finally, what you can do to help. do not roll over and lie still under the weight of all this suffering. you must continue fighting, you must shape that weight into a weapon, and yes, it will hurt, and yes, you will get tired and worn out (in which case, you rest. you working yourself to the bone is of use to no one) but eventually, something will happen, and until then you hold that weight like a fire in your chest and direct it towards helping those who need help. never forget that weight. never forget palestine. nothing lasts forever, and neither will this. there will be a free palestine.

i'd advise tuning into the icj hearing if you have time– i personally will not be available, but i'm sure whatever goes on over there will be of some value to whats going on. follow palestinian journalists (motaz, hind, bisan, plestia, and many others, who are risking their lives to deliver the news to outsiders, who have done more than anyone should be obligated to in a thousand lifetimes, who deserve safe families and good lives and a long rest and a thousand years in a free palestine, on their beautiful homeland) if you have the linked platforms and can, continue talking about palestine along with them. treat yourself kindly. for the fourth time i've said this in this post, and however many more times it needs to be said, free palestine!

#i hope i worded this well #endisraelsgenocide #palestine #important #🗯

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ga-yuu · 1 year

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[Gilbert Von Obsidian Story Chapter 1]

----Part 1----

Once upon a time, in Rhodolite, the Land of Roses and Art, there was a strange encounter that was like a divine prank.

Black-haired boy: "Hey, why are powerful people so corrupted?"

A boy sitting on a barrel in an alleyway closes the thick book on his lap which looks inappropriate for his thin body.

The book was about the history of a continent spelled out in an archaic language that even scholars should find difficult to understand.

The boy understood all the contents with the ease of reading a picture book.

He asks the blond boy sitting on the ground.

The blond-haired blue-eyed boy with a mature aura didn't stop reading.

Black-haired boy: "They say continental history is the history of aristocracy, but there are no good people in it."

Black-haired boy: "Those who killed their own people to gain the throne, those who cheated other nations to expand their territory, and those who turned a blind eye to the suffering of their people..."

Black-haired boy: "This has been going on for a long time now. There should be a kind monarch who is equal and charitable to everyone."

Black-haired boy: ".....But no. Why would people like that ever go down in history."

Blond boy: "Of course."

Blond boy: "In today's society where class-based society has become the norm, a monarch who claims to be loving and equal would be the first to be eliminated."

Blond boy: "Once in power, you can never relinquish it. If the slightest disadvantage is incurred, they will meditate on it."

Blond boy: "The pain of others will be nothing. That's human nature."

Black-haired boy: "Hmmm, guess so."

The black-haired boy jumps down from his barrel, putting his small feet on the ground and smiles brightly as sun shining down the alley.

Black-haired boy: "I think humans are inherently conscientious creatures."

Black-haired boy: "It's the world that makes people greedy, not the people itself."

Blond boy: "According to your theory, there are no real evil people in the world?"

Black-haired boy: "Mmhm, because the essence of human nature is 'love."

Black-haired boy: "The corrupt monarchs who spun history could have been kinder to others if the world had been different."

Blond boy: ".......You are quite the dreamer."

Black-haired boy: "So what? I'm still a kid."

Black-haired boy: "And I like people."

The blond boy looked up from his book and couldn't help but snicker.

The red eyes of the dark-haired boy were full of compassion and tenderness.

.............

It's been several days since the princes of the three countries requested an extended stay for headache-inducing reasons.

After careful consultation with Sir Sariel and other princes,

Rhodolite is ready to welcome state guests.

Leon: "As, I've said many times, it's been decided that the princes from each country will stay for the four-country talks."

At a regular meeting of the princes, and key officials belonging to the internal affairs faction.

Once the agenda was settled, the matter was brought up with Leon, the leader of the internal affairs faction.

Leon: "His Majesty, the King has given his approval. The decision will not be reversed."

Leon's dignified voice silences the frustrated internal bureaucrats.

(I had expected this, but there still seems to be a lot of backlash)

Bureaucrat: "...I'm still not convinced. Benitoite as a friendly country and Jade as a neutral country would be fine."

Bureaucrat; "But why must we also accept Obsidian!?"

Bureaucrat: "Their former treachery, has gone unredressed to this day."

Bureaucrat: "There must be some nefarious plotting behind this stay too...it's too dangerous."

Leon: "I know. We have not forgotten the Bloodstained Rose Day ten years ago."

(Bloodstained Rose Day....I've only heard rumors)

Ten years ago, Rhodolite was invaded by Obsidian.

The princes went to the battlefield and stopped them at the border, so I, who lived in the royal capital, only heard rumors.

The sudden invasion, which could be described as a bolt from the blue, has left a huge scar on the Country of Roses.

That is the reason why the overwhelming majority of people are not comfortable with the stay of the Obsidian royal family.

(I don't know the details, I'll have to look it up next time)

Leon: "But now a country that has never been open to any diplomacy has come to the forefront."

Leon: "I think it's well worth allowing them to stay."

Bureaucrat: "But..."

Leon: "Besides, if anything goes wrong, I and Chevalier will take the blame."

Leon: "You have your thoughts, but swallow them for now."

-----Part 2----

The silence that fell in the drawing room was so heavy that even the slightest noise would have been unacceptable.

Bureaucrat: "Then, at least..."

The bureaucrat, who seemed to have retracted his fangs turned to me, who was in the last seat.

Bureaucrat: "Tell us why that woman is present here."

All eyes were on me and I felt as if I had been dragged all the way to the center of the stage.

(I thought someone would ask)

Many of the Bureaucrats here don't know that I am Belle.

One day, without any warning, a mysterious young lady appeared and began to stay at the court for her studies...

In addition, she was also escorted by the prince of Obsidian at the goodwill party and also seen dancing with him.

(The constant staring hurts....they must be suspecting I'm on the Obsidian's side)

Jin: "Emma is just a victim here, right?"

Emma: "Yes. I was asked to show the way by Prince Gilbert and he forced me to attend the party with him."

Emma: "I've never met him before and I don't know him personally. To be honest, I'm still confused."

(I wish it had been a dream)

Bureaucrat: "I don't think that 'Trampling Beast' would escort a woman for no reason."

Bureaucrat: "Excuse me, but even if you don't know why we still can't let our guard down around you..."

Licht: "The allies have decided that it's not a problem."

Licht: "Why else would you need a reason?"

Yves: "I can understand your concern though."

Yves: "But there is nothing suspicious about Emma. That much is certain."

(The princes will defend me but I'm sure all of them are equally confused as I am)

(....As Belle I was allowed to participate in this meeting to deepen my knowledge, but I shouldn't have come)

Luke: "Haa...such bad vibes."

As if to cut the tension, a lazy-sounding voice rises.

Luke sitting next to me, who also attended the meeting as a part of his studies,

Sighed loudly at the bureaucrat who raised his eyebrows in disapproval.

Luke: "I don't care what you think."

Luke: "Second of all, what do you even know about the Trampling Beast, to begin with?"

Bureaucrat: "Of course, everyone knows how notorious, he is."

Bureaucrat: "He has ruled numerous countries through the use of force, rewriting the maps of the continents at an extraordinary pace, and he is also a world bane..."

Bureaucrat: "He has never lost a battle, and as an ever-victorious marshal, he is a man to watch, a figure of great importance that the whole continent is on the lookout for."

Bureaucrat: "A cold-blooded, arrogant, evil royal family that tramples on so many things that it deserves the name of Trampling Beast."

Luke: "I didn't ask you to repeat the rumors about him. I asked you if you actually know about him or not and it appears that you don't."

Luke: "What if he just fell in love with Emma at first sight?"

(No, I don't think that's the case)

The bureaucrats could not hide their "what are you talking about?" faces.

Leon: "Heh..hahaha! That might the case too. Don't you think?"

Jin: "Emma is a pretty girl after all. No wonder the Trampling Beast himself fell in love with her."

Luke: "See? That's why it's not Emma's fault. Stop blaming her."

Luke gets up and grabs my hand.

Luke: "Let's get out here. Staying here anymore will suffocate you to death."

Luke: "Let's bunk this meeting together."

(As always, he's lazy....)

(...But since my presence is making the atmosphere worse, let's take advantage of Luke's kindness for now)

Emma: "Prince Leon, may leave the meeting?"

Leon: "Go ahead. ...Luke, don't tell Sariel about this."

Luke: "Of course, leave her to me."

(Why did this happen?)

----Part 3----

Luke led me by the hand and we came to the rose garden.

The tension finally dissolves as I am welcomed by the sweet fragrance that confronts my wounded heart.

Luke: "Feeling better now?"

Emma: "Thank you, Luke....sorry you also had to leave because of me."

Luke: "Why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything wrong."

His large hand patted my head and my cheeks relaxed.

(Thank god, Luke was there or else I would have cried)

Luke: "If you have any problem, you can always talk to me, okay? Even if you're dealing with a big bad tiger, I'll protect you no matter what."

A dependable smile is like a panacea, taking away the pain in my heart.

It was then that I felt relieved that I was not alone in this situation.

???: "Hmm, that sounds reassuring isn't it?"

(Mm...)

My heart jumps out of my chest as if to gouge out the pain that is about to subside.

A voice from somewhere and the sound of a cane hitting the cobblestones with a clang, painted the beautiful rose garden into a nightmare.

Luke: ".....Gilbert."

Mercilessly, Luke's muttering brings me back to reality.

I looked back awkwardly and saw a black figure among the petals blown up by the wind.

Gilbert: "Hello. Were you in the middle of a secret rendezvous?"

Luke: "Haa..if you know, then don't get in our way."

Gilbert: "But I want to. I'm lonely, you know."

Luke: "....The nerve of you."

(....Luke's attitude doesn't change towards Prince Gilbert)

Following the example of the goodwill party, he who is unperturbed, even though he is a Trampling Beast, I also hide my agitation.

But Gilbert laughed, as if he knew everything.

Gilbert: "You look unhappy, little bunny?"

Gilbert: "By the looks of it, did someone mistreat you?"

Emma: "....No."

Gilbert: "I hate liars, you know."

I felt a gruesome pressure on my spine that chilled.

No matter how calm I tried to appear, my instincts seemed to sense fear, and my face pulled into a tight line.

(It was the same when we first met. There shouldn't be a need to feel so 'scared'...)

Luke: "If someone is bullying her, then it's you."

Luke takes one step forward to cover me.

Luke: "You're existence is already terrifying. So stop scaring Emma."

Gilbert: "Aww, that's so unreasonable. I haven't done anything terrible yet."

Emma: " 'Yet'...means?"

Gilbert: "....Fufu."

Gilbert-sama only smiled meaningfully, but did not deny it.

Gilbert: "I don't like it when you're scared."

Gilbert: "I only want to be friends with little bunny here. So I think we must get to know each other as soon as possible...right?"

Gilbert: "Oh yeah, that's it!"

Prince Gilbert, who clapped his hands deliberately, ignored Luke and approached me.

Gilbert: "I still haven't thanked you for helping me that day."

Gilbert: "How about we go out together?"

Emma: "Go out?"

Gilbert: "Mmhmm. Just the two of us and no one else."

(.....No, I must not nod)

The Trampling Beast, the world's bane, the infamous Prince----"

It is hard to believe that he would want to got out with a lady like me just to 'friends'

(Probably he's trying to figure out who I am)

----FLASHBACK----

Gilbert: " I was interested in you."

Gilbert: "So let's take time and chat more, next time 'Belle'?"

----FLASHBACK ENDS----

(Prince Gilbert seemed to suspect that I am Belle)

(And maybe he's trying to get me to expose my identity)

Luke: "What are you up to?"

As expected, Luke looks at him suspiciously.

Gilbert: "I wanna be friends with your little bunny. That's all."

Gilbert: "If she keeps giving me this frightened look every time then---"

Gilbert: "It will make me sad and I'd end up killing her."

----Part 4-----

At first, I didn't understand what he meant.

I was so lost in the good-looking young man in front of me that I suspected that I had misheard him.

(No, I must not run away)

(Even though...I just got threatened flat out---)

The fear that came late was powerful enough to cower my heart.

Luke: "..You.."

Gilbert: "Luke, do me a favor and make up a good excuse to mislead everyone else, will you? We will be back in time for dinner."

Luke: "Why should I be a part of your evil deeds?"

Gilbert: "It's not anything evil. It's your job."

Gilbert: "Luke is a part of the external affairs faction, isn't he? So it's your job to make sure that your guests are happy....right?"

Luke: "......."

Gilbert: "It's your job too, self-proclaimed noblewoman of Rhodolite."

Gilbert: "If you piss me off, I will destroy your whole country. Of course, you don't want that, right?"

(It sounds like a joke, but I'm sure Prince Gilbert is a person who would do something like that)

-----Options------

Please give me time to consult. (+4/+4)

I can't nod. (+4/+4)

Okay, I'll go. (+4/+4)

-------------

Emma: "Please give me time to consult..."

(If only I could at least ask Sir Sariel for help)

Gilbert: "No."

Prince Gilbert mercilessly kicked out my only hope.

Gilbert: "I'm not going to give you any chances to decline my invitation."

I was at a loss and Prince Gilbert grabbed my wrist.

(....It's so cold)

Though he's wearing his gloves, I could still feel his icy cold fingers and I tremble.

Luke: "Gilbert!"

Gilbert: "Don't worry, I won't do anything cruel."

Gilbert: "You should know better than anyone that I don't lie."

Luke: "......"

(....What do you mean?)

Luke runs his fingers through his hair and sighs.

Luke: "....Emma if you don't want to, I'll kick this guy away right now."

Emma: "....I understand. But it's fine."

Emma: "Prince Gilbert is a guest of Rhodolite and I also have the duty to entertain him without being rude."

Emma: "Prince Luke...please inform Sir Sariel for me."

(I can't resist now)

Luke reluctantly nods.

Gilbert: "I'm glad you didn't turn me down. Let's go shall we?"

(Somehow, I'll just have to get through this peacefully)

........

(...Why?)

We boarded the carriage that Prince Gilbert prepared and headed to our destination----Hell.

(Out of all the places...)

(....He had to bring me here)

It is still naive to think he suspects my identity as Belle.

Prince Gilbert casually walks up to my original workplace without any hesitation.

(Prince Gilbert is not suspicious..he's 'sure')

Gilbert: "I reserved the whole place just for the two of us. Aren't you excited?"

He opens the front door and forces me into the bookstore.

I'm sure Sir Sariel would have arranged for another clerk to work in place while I was gone.

But for now, the bookstore is empty.

(Why on earth this had to happen?)

(Don't tell me our meeting the rose garden was also a part of his plan...)

(No, I don't think Prince Gilbert can plan all of that)

(But what if it was?)

A different emotion from instinctive fear engulfs my mind.

A cold hand was placed on my stunned shoulder and pushed me further inside the bookstore.

Gilbert: "I know you like books. You can relax here as much as you want."

Gilbert: "No more annoying stares. It's the only place where you can return to your true self."

Emma: "......."

Gilbert: "You look pale. Are you not happy?"

----Part 5----

Emma: "How do you know I like books?"

Gilbert: "It's a secret."

Emma: "And this bookstore..."

Gilbert: "It's a secret too."

Emma: "........."

Gilbert: "Just so you know....I'm an information-gathering hobbyist."

Gilbert: "When I don't know something, it makes me curious. So I'll try to find out about it no matter what."

Prince Gilbert smiles happily and puts his face to my ear.

Gilbert: "Are you feeling guilty? Belle?"

Emma: "........I'm not Belle."

Gilbert: "I hate liars. I told you."

Emma: "........"

The fangs of the beast are already set on me.

I had to lie somehow, but my mind was pathetically blank.

Gilbert: "Ah...Aren't you into this book lately?"

As if in pursuit, Prince Gilbert pulls a black book from the bookshelf and places it in my hands.

It had a black cover and its title was written in golden colour. It was a book that I'm reading currently.

(Just how much does he know about me?)

(...Where did you get this much info?)

Emma: "What's your purpose...please tell me."

With what little courage I had, I squeezed out my voice because my heart was about to collapse.

Emma: "Are you trying me threaten me or something?"

Gilbert: "I'm not here to threaten you. I want us to be friends."

Gilbert: "I'll tell you properly this time. I truly want to be friends with you."

Emma: ".....Friends?"

Gilbert: "Yes."

Gilbert: "See, it's just that simple."

(No way)

It's difficult for me to read Prince Gilbert's intentions before replying.

(But I can instinctively feel that I must not be friends with this guy)

Emma: "I can't be your friend, Prince Gilbert."

Gilbert: "Fufu...looks like you don't understand."

Prince Gilbert holds my hand and breaths into my ears.

The black book falls from my hand and before I could get it, he held my cheek with his cane.

Gilbert: "You have two choices, either you willingly be my friend or force yourself to be my friend."

Emma: "Nn...!"

My voice leaked out as I felt a sharp pain on my neck.

(Did he...just bite me...?)

The cold, soft touch and the itchy pain lingered on my neck eating away at my aroused heart like poison.

Gilbert: "If you won't be my friend....Belle will disappear."

Gilbert: "Rhodolite won't get their King and I will come with my troops to crush your country."

Emma: "....."

Gilbert: "So I'll ask you again, be my friend."

(I can only nod)

Because everything is in Prince Gilbert's hands.

To willingly be friends or force myself to be friends, there is only one answer.

Emma: "....Why do you want to go out of your way to be friends with me?"

Gilbert: "Good question."

Everytime, he giggles, his soft breath hits my neck.

Rather than embarrassment, unfathomable fear prevailed.

Gilbert: "You are said to have the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite."

Gilbert: "And there are many different criteria for evaluating a beautiful heart, but...."

Gilbert: "The beautiful heart in your case is 'loving others more than yourself"

(You must not be knowing this much about me...)

(....But I can't say anything back because I'm afraid)

Gilbert: "A heart that loves and cares for those around you and respects others more than yourself..."

Gilbert: "You were chosen as Belle because you risk your life to help others around you, right?"

(He knows everything)

Gilbert: "But you know what I think? No matter how beautiful your heart is, the essence of a person is 'false love."

Gilbert: "They pile on the ugly falsehoods and act as if there is love---when in fact there is no such thing."

Gilbert: "Even your beautiful heart is only a hoax."

Gilbert: "If you stay in a place like the royal court, where your greed is exposed, you will eventually fall."

Gilbert: "I for one, like to see it close up."

Gilbert: "I am curious to see how the most beautiful woman with the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite would turn out."

Gilbert: "So be my friend. That way, I will be the closest to you, right?"

(.........I cannot even process what Prince Gilbert is saying)

Prince Gilbert is also trying to get my understanding.

I feel a sense of self-indulgence as if he is just saying what he is thinking anyway.

(After all, what he meant by 'friends' does not seem to have a similar meaning that I know)

Emma: "I'm not sure if I have a beautiful heart or not, but...."

Emma: "No matter what happens, I will remain who I am."

Emma: "I doubt I can live up to Prince Gilbert's expectations."

Gilbert: "Hehe, it's going to be fun."

Emma: "Mm....!?"

He bit my neck again and I squinted painfully.

It was more painful than the previous one and I let out a soft painful cry.

Emma: "Stop biting me!"

Gilbert: "Did that hurt? Sorry."

Gilbert: "I like to leave my mark on my favorite things. It's a sign that you are my friend."

(I don't need this kind of proof)

When I turn around after brushing off Prince Gilbert's hand, I meet his blood-red eyes.

His lips were smiling but his eyes weren't and I couldn't help but look away.

(....Just like a real beast)

(Earlier he described me as having a 'strong sense of love for others'....)

(Maybe, I don't think I can love this Prince)

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