#Come pollito

[slowlytenaciouscherryblossom]

[mazojo]

I am like 20 minutes into Purple Hearts and I am trying to understand so hard how what anything that Luke or his friend say is like, normal and not like, idk, bigotry?

[wileys-russo]

the one where the kids go bowling II barça femeni

part of the 'pollito' universe, stuck tiny silver flash the one where the kids go bowling II barça femeni

"-and you will message me once you finish up and get to jana's, sí?" you pushed off alexia's hands which fixed your necklace so the clasp wasn't showing with a huff.

"sí ale! por favor can i go now?" you groaned, hovering by the door with an overnight bag in hand feeling like a little kid going to a sleepover as alexia fussed over you.

it was jana's birthday and she'd invited a few of the younger girls to go bowling and out to dinner, offering for you to spend the night at hers with bruna and ona which you'd happily accepted.

with all of the girls backing you up and promising to keep an eye out for you and vicky, the captains had no choice but to agree though you knew you largely had patri to thank for that who shockingly had been the voice of reason in the scenario.

"sí, enjoy yourself but do not do anything i wouldn't do nena!" the older girl warned as you heard olga snicker from the sofa and you leaned around alexia to shoot her a grin which she returned with a wink, mouthing for you to have fun.

"don't listen to her! bad influence." alexia tutted ushering you out the door and glaring playfully at her girlfriend over her shoulder who blew her a kiss and turned back to typing away at her laptop perched on her knees.

"alexia!" you whined as she grabbed the back of your jacket to stop you racing off, following after you to bruna's car who paled at the sight of her captain gesturing for her to roll down the window which she did.

you managed to tug yourself free of the catalans iron grip, slipping into the backseat beside ona. "hola alexia." bruna swallowed nervously as the corner of the older girls mouth tugged upward a little in amusement.

"feliz cumpleaños superestrella!" bruna sighed in relief and loosened her grip on the steering wheel as alexia's stern facade melted and she gave jana a dazzling grin where she sat in the passenger seat.

"gracias ale." jana returned the grin gratefully. "no invite for me to come bowling? the disrespect for your captain chica's." alexia tutted, pushing away from the car with a wink.

"no abuela's allowed!" you called from the back with a grin, smacking bruna on the shoulder and ordering her to drive as alexia shot you a glare and opened her mouth to respond, bruna pulling out quickly from the curb before she could do.

"if she makes us run extra laps for your mouth pollito i'm gonna kill you!"

~

"hola mis chicas!" you launched yourself into the middle of the small group of girls who'd already arrived and were sat in the booth by your designated lane, groans of pain greeting you where you'd landed on them, shoved to the side as ona bonked you on the head with your bowling shoes and handed them over.

you let out a yell as no sooner did you bend down to lace them up a body slammed into you nearly taking you off the bright blue leather lounge entirely.

"lópez!" you shoved her back, the two of you wrestling around for a moment before salma stepped in to break it up and sent vicky off for her turn.

"you know you are supposed to knock the pins over bru, sí?" you teased as the girl bowled a zero and stomped back to the lounges with a scowl.

"sí its not like golf bruna, lowest score loses not wins!" jana added on sitting down beside you with a smirk as bruna flipped you both off and sat down herself with a huff.

you all cheered as vicky bowled a strike, taking a photo for your social media and squealing as janas hand moved to brush the back of your neck as she set something down behind you.

"why is your hand so cold! dios mío." you cringed at the icy tips of her fingers as jana laughed and prodded at you. "this is yours." jana tapped one of the bright red slushees she'd put down and poked your cheek before getting up to take her turn.

what she failed to mention was the utter importance that you drank only the slushee which was yours.

but too busy laughing at your friends woeful attempts at bowling you grabbed jana's without realising, frowning a little at the odd taste but unsure what flavour it really was you paid it no mind, sticking your bright red tongue out at vicky who giggled and did the same.

vicky was also too busy laughing at ona who routinely bowled gutter ball after gutter ball and swore so much that a mother on the lane over came and gave her a talking to about family friendly language, the older girl going bright red and stammering out an apology.

what your friends failed to mention was why it was so important the two of you drank the slushees that were given to you, and that was that on a perhaps poorly minded decision the older girls had snuck in a flask of vodka and spiked their slushees.

not enough to get them drunk of course just...a little pleasantly buzzed.

but with you and vicky having little to no experiences drinking, the small amount of alcohol had gone right to your heads though neither of you had tweaked the reality of your situation just yet.

which is why you weren't sure what was so funny as you stood to take your turn to bowl, or why your fingertips suddenly felt weird and your legs a little tingly, or why you couldn't work out which lane you were supposed to bowl in given you had to squint to narrow it down from three to one.

"apresúrate pequeña we have dinner reservations at eight!" jana groaned impatiently, tapping her foot with a roll of her eyes as you closed one of yours to try and stop the lanes from moving.

giving it your best go you wound up and let go of the ball, tripping over your own feet and crashing to the ground with a thump as the ball sailed up and over the gutters, landing in the lane of the group beside you who jumped in shock.

you felt hands on your body trying to help you up an voices muffled like your head was underwater but their faces were a blur and all you could do was giggle, poking at the weird blobs in front of you as a warmth spread through your body and you let out a loud and sudden peal of laughter.

"is she..." salma trailed off with wide eyes at bruna who was on your other side helping you up. "no. she can't be? hers and vickys didn't have anything in them, we made sure." bruna denied with a firm shake of her head though as vicky fell off the edge of the lounge with a giggle her certainty faded.

"what is wrong with them?" esme asked worriedly, helping vicky up as you were sat back down and went limp, closing your eyes and giggling to yourself at nothing, enjoying the feeling of the warmth sitting comfortably now in your rosy red cheeks.

with the other girls distracted arguing over who spiked what you sat up and grabbed your slushee, downing the last few mouthfuls as your elbow brushed jana's side and she turned.

"aye pollito no!" the birthday girl groaned snatching the now empty cup from your hand, vicky already having finished her own as she tried to stand up to take her turn and promptly fell right back down nearly into emse's lap.

"sniff that bruna. idiota i told you this was a bad idea!" jana seethed smacking the younger girl across the back of the head and shoving your empty slushee cup in her face which indeed smelled like vodka, esme doing the same to vickys which was the same story.

"me? this was your idea amiga its your birthday!" bruna scoffed as the two began to bicker, ona trying her best to break it up as you took the opportunity of them being distracted to sneak off, suddenly having an overwhelming urge to run away.

knocking your knee against vickys she shared your grin, the two of you dropping to your knees and crawling away to the booth beside your own lane, grabbing one anothers hands with a giggle and racing off.

"hey vuelve aquí!" salma noticed the back of your heads race off and yelled out, yanking the others up as ona stayed back to reset the lanes so you could all leave.

you and vicky didn't make it far, tripping over your own feet and grabbing out for her to steady you, instead accidentally pulling her down to the ground with you as the two of you collapsed into a pile of giggles and hiccups.

bruna apologizing quickly to the staff who wandered over to check everything was okay jana and esme hauled you up as salma grabbed vicky, ona joining her as the group made their way out of the bowling alley.

"mierda i don't feel good." vicky mumbled and salma barely turned before the younger girl threw up the entire contents of her stomach onto the asphalt, bright red bile pouring from her mouth as everyone cringed and you took the brief moment to again run off.

"chica no!" jana moaned in annoyance dragging her hands down her face, her and bruna racing off after you as the others hung back to look after vicky.

"can't catch me chica's!" you sang out with a wild grin, racing between parked cars and ducking and weaving your way to escape the two older girls chasing you down.

"i don't think we're making that dinner reservation amiga." bruna doubled over trying to catch her breath as jana just missed you, groaning tiredly as you took off again with a joyous whoop but then suddenly you stopped, careering over and vomiting up your own bright red bile making them wince in disgust.

"we need back up, now."

~

when mapi had seen jana's name and number flash on her screen she'd frowned, assuming it was just an accidental call and letting it ring out, returning to the crossword on the table in front of her.

but when it rang again curiosity got the better of her and she clicked accept and tucked it into her shoulder. "hola jana? está todo bien?" mapi had questioned with a frown.

"vale vale slow down chica, she is what?" ingrid looked up at this, sitting up from where she'd been sprawled out across their lounge reading a book, sending her girlfriend a curious look whose frown deepend.

"vale. have you called alexia? oh, i see. sí message me the address and i will leave now amiga, get them some water, small sips." mapi sighed, sending ingrid an odd look as the norwegian snapped her book shut and pushed up to her feet as mapi uttered a few more words and hung up the phone. "whats wrong amor?" ingrid asked as mapi tucked her phone into her pocket with a sigh.

"believe me mi vida, you do not want to know."

~

jana could have cried in relief when she saw mapi's car pull up, the girl parking and making her way over as bruna rubbed your back and vicky was slumped into salma mumbling nonsense with a giggle every now and then, both of you having spent the last ten minutes voilently throwing up until there was nothing at all left in your stomachs.

"what happened?" the older girl sighed at the sight in front of her, wincing as all of the girls launched off with their own recall of events. "mi dios chicas, one at a time! bruna, go." mapi rubbed her temples and waved as everyone fell silent bar yours and vickys giggles.

"we didn't mean to mapi, promesa. we just wanted to have a little fun and we only put the alcohol in our drinks. but they got mixed up and they both ended up drinking the spiked ones and now they're drunk." bruna winced at the dissapointed sigh that came from the defender stood in front of her.

"i will take pollito home and she will stay with ingrid and i. who is looking after vicky? should i call patri?" mapi asked with a raised eyebrow as a chorus of no's rang out, nobody wanting to involve any of the captains.

"she will stay with me, esme is too." salma confirmed as mapi nodded, wincing as the girl in question lurched forward and threw up again. "you might want to take a bag in the car with you." the older girl suggested pulling a face as everyone got to their feet.

"vamos pequeña, up we get!" mapi grunted grabbing your hands and pulling you to stand as you giggled and your legs gave out, jana steadying you on your other side as she and bruna helped walk you to mapi's car.

"we really are sorry mapi, it was a complete accident." bruna blushed bright red as you were buckled into the back seat and mapi slid into the drivers seat and lowered her window.

"you did the right thing by calling me amiga's. but this stays between all of us, nobody else in the team will ever never know this happened or i was here. vale?" mapi warned sternly as both younger girls nodded hastily making the defender soften and chuckle a little.

"feliz cumpleaños jana, i do not think this is a birthday you will forget anytime soon mi amiga."

~

"oh dios mío pequeña, stay still!" mapi groaned, grabbing the collar of your shirt as you tried to race off again, the car ride seemingly recharging your battery as you were giggling and babbling nonsense the entire elevator ride up.

hearing her voice on the other side of the door ingrid hurried to pull it open as mapi wrestled to get her keys from your grip where you'd snatched them.

"liten!" ingrid gasped as mapi pushed you inside her apartment and you tripped over your own feet tumbling to the floor and sprawling out on the hardwood giggling to yourself.

"is she-" ingrid realised offering you a hand up which you battered away as you rambled something inaudible in spanish and covered your face with your hands, body shaking with laughter.

"drunk? sí." mapi sighed watching you with a shake of her head before catching ingrid up on the nights events which had lead up to this. "alexia is going to flip." ingrid whistled knowingly, mapi cursing as your leg lashed out to kick her in the shin and you laughed.

"el diablo." the defender huffed, ingrid gently pushing her back as she went to advance on you, your usual love language which would have meant mapi kicking you back hardly appropriate right now.

"alexia will not know, i already messaged her from pollitos phone saying she arrived to jana's. she is a good kid, this is the first time anything like this has happened and really it was an accident." mapi sighed, a small smile curling onto her lips as you spotted bagheera wandering out of the bedroom and gasped crawling across to him on your elbows.

"maríaaa!" you sang out suddenly breaking the two older girls out of their conversation. "sí pequeña?" mapi sighed with a smile of amusement, shaking her head at the way bagheera had settled himself on your chest.

"i'm hungry make me food." you demanded, giggling at nothing as your fingers felt tingly and you ran them through bagheeras soft fur. "what have you eaten today kjære?" ingrid interrupted before mapi could.

"i made avocado toast and eggs this morning but we-oh we were supposed to go to dinner! its janas birthday!" you clapped excitedly and sat up, scaring bagheera who jumped about a foot in the air and scurried off back to the bedroom.

"they'll be picking me up soon-oh mierda!" you swore as you tried to stand and the room span, sending you tumbling right back down onto your ass with a groan of pain followed by a fit of laughter.

"vamos estúpido, we need you in one piece por favor." mapi chuckled moving to help you up, slinging your arm over her shoulder and maneuvering you to lay down on the sofa as ingrid started to make you some toast.

"maps...the room is spinning make it stop!" you whined covering your face as the defender patted you on the head with a smile. "sí pollito, you are drunk. remember this feeling the next time someone ever offers you a drink!" mapi chuckled and you let out a deep sigh, removing your hands and rubbing your eyes furiously.

"i'm not drunk!" you scoffed once the room stopped spinning, wiggling your toes which felt all tingly and electric. "sí mi amiga you are, do you remember the red drink from bowling?" mapi asked gently and you looked at her like she had three heads.

"i haven't been bowling! i tried to go and you manhandled me onto the lounge and now my legs won't work. are they broken?" you began to panic as the pins and needles spread and your eyes widened.

"no idiota, they're not broken." mapi laughed, moving to massage your knees as you sighed in relief and ingrid chuckled from the kitchen.

"maría." you started as mapi hummed still massaging some feeling back into your tingly legs. "i love you, so much." you sobbed out, mapi's head whipping sideways in shock as you started to cry.

"i know we fight and mess around but you're like a big sister to me and i love you so much!" you sobbed out, sitting up and throwing your arms around her neck as the defender bit down on her lip to stop from laughing, rubbing at your back.

"i think we've moved through the stages. from giggling, throwing up, running away, falling over to sappy mess." mapi spoke to ingrid as you cried into her shoulder and the norweigan set down a plate of toast on the coffee table.

"ingrid!" you sobbed letting go of mapi and opening your arms as the brunette stifled a laugh herself and allowed you to wrap her in a tight hug. "i love you both so-oh toast!" you spotted the plate behind their backs and wiggled free reaching out for it.

"imbécil." mapi mumbled with a chuckle as you munched away happily, eyes beginning to droop with each minute that passed as your giggles returned, both girls sitting beside you on the lounge as ingrid clicked the tv on.

"so...vamos whose dropping me to bowling?"

[helen-with-an-a]

Black Eyes

Hi. So this was a request that I got for a teen!R getting jumped by a fan and the team looking out for them. So here it is - again, I have aged R up a little bit (18/19 rather than 15/16) but I hope you enjoy it.

Barca Femeni x Reader

Description: R gets attacked on her way home and the team come to her aid.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Injury, violence

You hurt. That was the first thing that you noticed as you woke up. Everything ached. Your toes, your legs, your hips, your waist, your chest, your face, even your hair hurt. You knew you shouldn’t have walked through the alleyway on the way home. How many times had Lucy and Alexia drilled it into you? ‘Don’t walk where there are no streetlights’. You had initially dismissed them as the overprotective worriers that they were, but now you really wished you had listened to them.

It was a rare rainy day in Barcelona, and you were trying to rush home. You hadn’t brought an umbrella with you, because why would you? You live in warm and sunny Barcelona now, not wet and windy London. You had your doubts about going down the alley, but it would cut your walk home in half, and you were already starting to shiver.

You hadn’t seen the man hiding at the end; otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone down it. But by the time you realised someone was there, you were basically at the end, and it would’ve been more awkward to stop and turn around.

“Oops, lo siento. Gracias.” You smiled weakly as you hurried past him.

You could feel his eyes on you as you continued your walk home.

You could hear his footsteps as you picked up your pace.

You could smell the alcohol on him as he drew nearer.

You could see the large Real Madrid tattoo on his bicep.

You could taste the blood in your mouth as your head hit the ground.

You knew you should move. You needed to get up and go to training. You needed to assess the damage done to you. You needed to do a lot of things. But you just couldn’t. It hurt to blink, so the thought of the pain that would consume your body if you tried to sit up, move off the bed and walk was unfathomable.

You don’t know when you feel back asleep – somewhere in between hoping someone could take away this pain for you and trying to work out what to say to people, probably. But your phone startled you. The loud, shrill noise made you twist painfully away from the sound. You just let it ring out; whoever it was and whatever they needed from you would not be worth the pain that it would answer it. The silence was almost just as painful as the ringing – your ears buzzing in the quiet.

LUCY (5 missed calls)

ALEXIA (3 missed calls)

KEIRA (1 missed call)

The herculean effort it took to open your eyes – well, one eye; the other refused to open – was not a good sign. The buzzing started again.

JONA

“Hello?” You answered. You almost didn’t recognise your own voice for how scratchy it was.

“Hola, solo queria ver donde estabas,” Jona explained, clearly anxious over the sound of your greeting. “Son casi las 10.30 y aún no te has registrado.” You didn’t understand what was happening; your head hurt too much for Spanish.

“In English, please,” you begged. There was some shuffling on his side before a different voice answered.

“Pollito?” That bloody nickname—Lucy had christened you ‘Chick’ (short for Chicken) when you first arrived at national camp; your gangly arms and legs, too long for your body, and your timid nature suited the nickname well. And it had followed you to Barcelona. “Where are you? It’s 10.30, and you’re not here.” Ona seemed calm, if a little stressed.

“Oni?” You sounded horrific.

“Are you sick? Oh, Déu meu, you sound awful, no offence.” The stress levels in her voice sounded more intense now and did little to help the pounding in your head.

“Ow,” you croaked out.

“What? Are you ok?” You could easily imagine her face pinched with worry and concern as she tried to find someone who could help. The sound you let out did not help her calm down—you think it was supposed to be another complaint about your pain, but it was definitely an indiscernible high-pitched squeak instead.

“Vale, vale, vale. Just … just stay there, sí?” like you could move, even if you wanted to. “I’m going to get Lucy … and Keira … and Alexia,” she started listing the names of people that would be helpful in this situation. Lucy and Keira were your national teammates; you had known them for most of your professional career. You often looked to them for guidance and reassurance. Alexia was your captain; she wouldn’t take kindly to Ona leaving her out of this - she also considered you a little sister, maybe even more so than Alba. You think she ended the call, but you were slipping back into dreamland before you could be sure.

The knocking at the door was what next woke you up. It was loud and incessant. You groaned, wishing they would stop and go away. You were out of luck, however, when you heard the tell-tale signs of a key being placed in the lock and your door opening. Only one person had a key.

“Chick,” Lucy called out. You groaned even louder and pulled the blanket over your head, trying to hide yourself from the world. You hadn’t seen what you looked like, but the right side of your face hurt more than the other, as did your hands and knees, so you assumed they took the brunt of the damage.

“Chick, you in here?” Keira shouted, her voice sounding like it was coming from the kitchen.

“Pollita?” Alexia sounded closer, too close to be in any other room besides your bedroom. You moaned in response. “Ella esta aqui,” she shouted to the others, the thundering footsteps echoing painfully as they barged into your room. You felt the blanket being tugged down, and you tried to resist it, holding onto it fractionally tighter.

“Hey, no, Chick. C’mon, lemme see you,” Lucy said softly, slowly working her magic as she rubbed your shoulder, thinking you were ill and didn't want her to see you like that. You let her pull the duvet down, not liking the loud gasp she let out when she caught a look at your face.

“What happened?” she asked tightly. You mistook her firmness for anger and couldn’t help the tears as they broke free. “Hey, no, no, no. Don’t cry,” she looked like she wanted to hug you but didn’t know where or what would bring you comfort or just more pain—her arms flapped helplessly mid-air.

“¿Qué sucede? Vas a estar enferma? Necesitamos ir al hospital? Qué está pasando?” You had never heard Alexia so panicked. Keira was quiet—too quiet. She didn’t like Lucy's look of fear or the tension in her voice.

“Chick?” Lucy asked again.

“I fell,” you lied. You don’t know why you lied, but you did. You couldn’t tell her that you ignored her concerns for your safety just because of some stupid rain. You were English – you dealt with rain all the time.

“Lucía, què està passant?” Alexia marched over, gasping loudly when she saw you. “Oh, honey.” The switch was dizzying. One moment, she was angry that no one was telling her what was wrong with you, and the next, she was as soft as a feather, gently coming to kneel by the side of your bed.

“Te caíste, sí?” She didn’t believe you; no one got this amount of bruising just from a fall. And there was something about how you avoided eye contact and scratched at your nails—your go-to trait when lying. “No creo que lo hicieras, pollita. Tell me what happened.” The gentleness was unlike anything you had ever heard from Alexia—she often provided solutions, playful aggression, and (brutal) honesty. Something must have really scared her to make her behave like this. You must have really scared her.

“I—I went through the alleyway,” you said weakly. You expected her and Lucy to look at you in a disappointed way, but no such thing was shown your way—just faces full of concern and worry. “There was a guy … I don’t really know what happened.” You weren’t intentionally vague; you genuinely did not know what had happened to you.

“Ok, Chick. That was very brave of you to tell us.” Lucy rubbed a soft finger over your cheek, wiping away the tears whilst avoiding the most apparent bruising. “We’re going to help sit you up, ok? I’m on your right, and Alexia’s on your left. We’ll get you to the bathroom and we’ll have a look at you properly, ok? Keira’s in the kitchen and will get you some food and drink.” She explained what would happen before she did it, helping to guide you to sit on the toilet.

Getting up with their help wasn’t as painful as you had expected, but maybe it was because you had rested your entire body weight on them. They held a mirror up for you as you began to examine yourself. Your eye was swollen, and a deep dark bruise was beginning to appear, and your cheek had a nasty red mark on it, but the rest of your face seemed unharmed. Your hands were cut, and so were your knees. You don’t know whether it was the pain or the tiredness or the events of the last 24 hours catching up with you as you slumped forward, your brain quietening as Lucy’s soft smell encased you and Alexia’s warm Spanish flooded your senses. You could her Keira’s hushed tones as she made her way around your kitchen, clearly on the phone to someone.

“Chick, it’s okay. We’ve got you,” Lucy said, smoothing your hair down as you rested your head on her shoulder.

“Nadie te va a hacer daño, lo prometemos.” Alexia added.

And you believed them. They would definitely keep you safe.

I wasn't quite sure about the ending, but I hope you liked it <3

[gabigabigabby]

leo messi's daughter | p. gavi

pablo gavi x messi!reader

a/n: yes im aware many people have done this but this plot is way too adorable for me to not write! also who else is gonna miss messi in psg? bc same 🙋🏼‍♀️

synopsis: gavi didn't really piece together that your dad is former barça player lionel messi... until he flew to paris to attend your birthday party.

content/warnings: awkwardness, very fluffy, leo being a menace and teasing pabs all the time. google translated spanish. lmk if i missed out anything

—

18. you didn't think you'd make it this far, let alone celebrate it in the city of love. you didn't think you'd start living in paris either. your initial plan was to live with your parents and little rat brothers until the day dad sends you off to your forever man. although, knowing your father, you probably won't even need to think about that day happening anytime soon.

ciro runs to you, hugging your legs since that's how tall he is. "feliz cumple, vieja!" [happy birthday, old lady!]

"who are you calling vieja?" you play along. "gracias, pollito." [thanks, little chicken.]

"is he coming, linda?" antonela approaches you, picking ciro up and propping him on her hip. "don't want him bailing out on you on your special day."

"nothing to worry about, mamá," you reassure. "trust." antonela smiles at you, before hearing a ruckus happening twenty feet from where you, mom and ciro stood.

"that must be your papá and brother playing football again," antonela groans. "i told them not to play ball out in that field." you offer to take ciro with you as you let your mother yell at your father and mateo.

thiago walks into the ballroom, heading straight for you and ciro. "is hermano pablo coming?" thiago asks you quietly, acknowledging how the ballroom echoes even with the lowest of voices.

"he told me he will be." you answer. your doubtful voice had pushed ciro to drape his arms over your shoulders.

"it's okay if he doesn't, hermana. nosotros estamos aquí para ti." ciro smiles, knowing you as well as both your parents can't resist to stay mad after seeing that smile. [we're here for you.]

"te quiero mucho, mi pollito." you bump heads with ciro before realising the presence of two figures at the front doors of the hall. [i love you so much, my little chicken.]

"pablo!" it was him. and pedri. he asked you if he could bring a plus-one.

"but i am your plus-one." you had told him.

"yeah, but it's your party." gavi answered.

"wait, what?"

"i dunno. can i bring pedri or not?"

"esta bien, lo que sea." you gave up. [fine, whatever.]

"te dije que vendría." gavi smiles, wrapping his arms around you and ciro. [told you i was coming.]

you introduce ciro to pablo, your youngest brother only waving shyly at him, only having met him twice. thiago was quick to throw his arms around gavi's waist. "ah, on the dot." you say, noticing your parents and mateo walk into the hall, all nice and ready for the party.

"what do you mean?" pablo questions.

"mamá, papá, mateo, this is my boyfriend, pablo. and pedri." you introduce. your hand coils itself around gavi's bicep.

"ah, sí. pedri, como estas?" he and pedri shake hands, exchanging niceties before he moves on to pablo. "y este es pablo de barcelona?" lionel asks, his head tilted to his right. [ah, yes. pedri, how are you doing? and this is pablo from barcelona?]

"sí," you say, seeing your friends start gathering by the front door of the hall. you choose to take ciro with you to greet your friends, so you walk away from pablo. stopping next to your dad, you tell him, "se bueno, papi. he's just pablo, and you're... el mejor del mundo." [yes. be nice, daddy. he's just pablo, and you're... the best in the world.]

leo only shoos you off to greet your friends before taking a deep breath. "pablo." he calls for your boyfriend, whose eyes have drifted to you as he watched you walk away from him.

"yes, sir?" gavi stands straighter than usual.

"como te va en barcelona? ¿xavi te trata bien?" leo asks, making conversation with him as antonela, thiago and mateo lead pedri away to the buffet spread. [how are you doing at barcelona? xavi treating you well?]

"i'm getting better, mr. messi." gavi nods his head slightly, hands together in front of him. he's smiling his best smile. he really wants to impress your father.

"deja eso. llámame leo," he waves gavi off, a smile — slowly but surely — appearing on his face. gavi can only chuckle at the acknowledgment. "sentémonos, el espectáculo está a punto de comenzar." [quit that. call me leo. let's get seated, show's about to start.]

once everyone is seated, your uncle, antonela's brother, begins the ceremony. you sat in between leo and pablo. act one; first daddy-daughter dance. "¿pueden la princesa y papá dar un paso al frente para el primer baile?" [can the princess and dad please step forward for the first dance?]

leo presents you his hand, nodding towards the dance floor. "ready, mija?"

you nod your head, taking dad's hand before trailing behind him to the centre of the hall. you instinctively pan your eyes to pablo, who sat next to your mother. he looks at you with great admiration, before putting both his thumbs up and grinning.

the music begins to play and you lean against your father, coiling your arms around his waist. "gracias por todo, papá." [thanks for everything, dad.]

"no," leo shakes his head. "gracias por todo, hermosa. has cambiado mi vida para siempre el día que naciste. dios me ha dado la hija mas grande que podría tener." [no, thank you for everything, beautiful. you have changed my life forever the day you were born. god has given me the greatest daughter i could possibly have.]

you couldn't stop your eyes from filling up with tears as you listen to your father's intimate speech. "gracias por cuidar a tus hermanos como lo haces. eres más que una mujer. eres un monstruo. un monstruo en la cancha, un muñeca fuera." [thank you for taking care of your brothers the way you do. you're more than just a woman. you're a monster. a monster on the pitch, a doll off.]

"me acabas de llamar monstruo?" you scoff on leo's shoulder. [did you just call me a monster?]

"quise decir eso amablemente!" leo laughs. [i meant that nicely!]

you thank your dad, and you dance in silence. you were grateful to have leo in your life. he was your rock, and he always will be. when the music finally ends, you allow your cheek to tear away from leo's shoulder. leo smiles at you as your uncle speaks again.

"pablo? tu turno." your uncle nods at pablo, who gets on his feet immediately as leo turns to make eye contact with him. [pablo? your turn.]

you wait for pablo on the dance floor. you let your head hang low as you wait, because pablo could make you blush by just walking over to you. "estas lista, querida?" boom, you're blushing. [you ready, darling?]

you nod, giving him your right hand and placing your left on his shoulder. the music begins playing and you allow pablo to sway you gently and slowly left and right. "thanks for coming."

"cualquier cosa para ti, amor," gavi chuckles. "me di cuenta de que tu papá te dio un pequeño discurso cuando bailaban. creo que quiero decirte algo a ti también." [anything for you, love. i noticed your dad kinda gave you a little speech when you guys danced. i think i wanna say something to you too.]

"cosa segura." you answer. [sure thing.]

before gavi could speak, your uncle comes running towards the both of you. "¿tio? ¿todo bien?" [uncle? everything okay?]

"todo está bien, cariño. es solo que... tu amigo pedri de ahí de allá dijo que le pasaras el micrófono a pablo," your tio explains, looking at pablo now. "dijo que tienes algo que decir." [all is good, darling. it's just that... your friend pedri over there said to hand pablo the mic. he said you've got something to say.]

you grit your teeth in guilt, and as you look up at pablo, he was annoyingly mouthing something to pedri. "toma el micro, pablo, no hay tiempo para esto." you whisper-yell. [take the mic, pablo, there is no time for this.]

he rashly took the mic from your tío, clearing his throat before beginning his speech. "uh, hola. espero que todos ustedes estén pasando un buen rato. soy pablo, el novio de y/n," he introduces himself. "vine desde barcelona y estoy aquí para celebrar la vida de nuestra querida niña hoy. mi amor, eres un regalo para todos nosotros. no puedo hablar por tu familia, pero has cambiado mi vida de una manera que las palabras no pueden describir." [hi, hope all of you are having a good time. i'm pablo, y/n's boyfriend. i came all the way from barcelona and i am here to celebrate the life of our dear girl today. my love, you are a gift to all of us. i can't speak for your family, but you have changed my life in a way that words cannot describe.]

"gracias por todo lo que ha hecho por mí, y eso incluye su apoyo para mí y mi carrera, incluso aquí en parís. te lo prometo, siento tu presencia en barcelona cada vez que juego. espero que este año te traiga toda la alegría que te mereces. Te amo, y veo mi futuro contigo. feliz cumpleaños." pablo finishes his speech off with the biggest smile. [thank you for everything you have done for me, and that includes your support for me and my career even all the way here in paris. i promise you, i feel your presence in barcelona every time i play. i hope this year brings you all the joy you deserve. i love you, and i see my future with you. happy birthday.]

he comes in closer to give you a hug, and as he did, he whispers in your ear. "estoy orgulloso de ti, messi. solo... ven a visitar barcelona más a menudo, okay?" [i'm proud of you, messi. just... come visit barcelona more often, okay?]

"i'll try." you smile.

[silverstonesainz-archive]

the winner takes it all

The winner takes it all, the loser's standing small Beside the victory, that's her destiny

summary: your first win might just be your greatest loss pairing: charles leclerc x alpine fem!reader (nicknamed fleur) word count: 4.2k warnings: cussing, google translate french, gets a little physical (nothing abusive or concerning), selfish and mean charles, just very angsty and straight up sad. note: no the plot has nothing to do with the abba song, just thought the title and lyrics above fit. this was requested, so i hope i did it some justice! anyways i hope you enjoy this one. ily all.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

“Final lap. Gap between you and Carlos is only 1.3. Keep pushing Fleur.” 

The world around you ceases to exist. You forget about the crowds of people watching you, edge of their seats and biting their nails as they wait to see if you can really pull it off. You forget about the other drivers behind you. In this moment, it’s just you behind the wheel, and the streets you grew up on. 

She’s gonna do it! For the first time in her career, in her first year in Formula one. L'être aimé, the beloved! There she goes in the Alpine! Y/N Y/LN wins the Monaco Grand Prix!

“That’s P1 Fleur! P1!” 

You shriek, tears glossing over your eyes, and your fist flying in the air. Your radio floods with congratulatory remarks, your team expressing how proud they are of you. You did it, you finally fucking won.

You slowly pull in behind the number one. Nothing felt real. Your hands shake as you try pull your steering wheel out of the car, bile from the nerves nearly threatening to come up. The cheers are deafening, the lights blinding. You hop off your car, sprinting towards the sea of blue. You jump into the sea of people, hands patting you back. There are choruses of bravo and bon travail flooding your ears, and you begin to cry. Your engineer, Lucas, gently lowers you to your feet and helps you pull off your helmet. 

“You did amazing Fleur. Fucking phenomenal drive!” He cups your cheeks, kissing the top of your head before handing you your helmet and waving you off to enjoy your win. 

You turn on your heel, a line of drivers making their way towards you to congratulating. You are tugged left and right into hugs and affectionate pats on the back from your male counterparts, and while you were thankful you can’t help but look for a certain man in red. You fail to find him, even after your interview. 

The cool down room is quiet as you wait for Carlos and Max to enter. The race highlights replay on the screen, and you watch as you sip your water. Charles’s red Ferrari flashes on the screen, and you cringe as the replay shows you overtaking him, and then aches as he fails to climb back up for a podium. 

“Congratulations pollito,” Carlos greets as he walks into the room, extending his arm to give you a hug. 

“Thank you!”

Max walks in shortly after, grinning widely and bidding you a congratulations, ruffling your hair just to annoy you. The boys quickly dive into conversation about the race, and you tune them out. Soon, they are calling you to make your way up to the podiums. The nerves fire up again, hands shaking once more as you walk out and wave to anyone and everyone. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking for your boyfriend once more but failing to spot him. The Monaco anthem blares through the speaker, and your eyes fall shut.

Memories of your karting days flash behind your closed lid. Every turn, scrape, DNF, tear, and smile led you right here. You savor the feeling of standing on the tallest podium, above everyone else. The cool splash of champagne takes you out of your daydream. You laugh loudly, spraying Carlos and Max back before walking to the edge of the stage to spray your team. Charles is no where to be found, and you feel your heart sink. The ceremony doesn’t last much longer, and he never shows his face. You chuck it to interviews and briefings, betting him on seeing him before leaving the paddock tonight. You take one swing from the large bottle before waving goodbye and walking off the stage. Post race interviews and your final meetings of the day go by in a blur. It is almost robotic, how your mouth and body lead you throughout the final parts of the day, your mind far from the track. 

You bid goodbye to your team in the lobby of your hotel, promising to see them later in the night at the team party. When the elevator doors shut, you finally go on your phone to answer the multitude of texts and return the tens of missed calls. And when all is said and done, there was still no sign of the Monegasque. 

Where are you?

It stung a lot, not hearing from Charles. Your first win, in a city that you both call home and yet all you got from him was radio silence. Every other race, you were always quick to be there for him. Whether it was to celebrate or console, you were always at Charles’s beck and call. 

Dating your opponent has always put you in a tough spot, both on an off the track. But you like to believe that’s it’s different with Charles, because being opponents is what brought you two together in the first place. You remember the first time your godfather brought you to the karting track. Your brother’s old suit loosely hung on your shoulders, and your hair was tightly braided out of your face. You remember the way your hands shook, a nervous tick, as you scanned your crowd of competitors. Not a single girl was dressed like you were, not a single one lugging a hand-me-down kart around. You nearly turned around to beg your godfather to take you home, but Charles and his father greeted you. You remember the snoopy brown hair, toothy grin as he held his hand out and said “hi, I’m Charles!” They were the first to acknowledge you and treat just like any other driver. Every race after that, from karting through each formula series, you and Charles remained stuck at the hip. There wasn’t a win you celebrated without each other, or a loss you mourned together. 

It was your second year together in Formula 2 where your friendship had begun to blossom into something more. Charles watched you from the second step, standing up with your first ever P1 trophy in the series. His eyes were bright, admiring the glow you emitted in that moment. It was the first time he every saw you as something other than his best friend and rival. He saw the twinkle in your eyes, and how rosy your cheeks got when you smile. He admired how pink your lips are, and the way your race suit seemed to hug you in all the right places. For the first time, he saw you and all the beauty you hold. 

And the same could be said for you. You noticed the difference in the way Charles looked at you. You noticed the lingering touches, the flirting, and the excessive time spent together. It wasn’t long until you both confessed that you were smitten, and had begun dating shortly thereafter. And yeah, sometimes things would be difficult between the two of you. You both still disagreed at times, both still manage to blame each other for a wide turn or pushing boundaries. Your love didn’t taint the fiery spirit you both had for the sport. And while the world expected your relationship to crash and burn, the intense passion did the exact opposite. 

Talking to engineers. Text you later.

You frown at Charles’s response. It’s unlike him to not acknowledge you like this, to not even say congratulations. You know that this race, his loss, would hit harder than any other one. He had a mission, a goal to achieve. Monaco was a race he had yet to conquer, and today he still managed to fall flat. But still, you would think he would still try to be proud of you. You would do the same for him, if roles were reversed. 

Oh. Okay.Team is hosting a party for me at the bar in my hotel. Will you come?

I don’t know. I don’t think so.

Tears sting at your eyes as you toss your phone to the side. Guilt creeps from the back of your mind, and your heart cracks ever so slightly. You try not to let it consume you as you get ready to  meet with people who intend to celebrate you. You try to push his stupid green eyes as far back in your mind as you possibly can. 

You slip on a white, silk, midi dress. The slit rides high, elongating your legs much more. You fiddle with the flower pendant on your neck, smiling at the memory of Charles’s father gifting it to you when you won your first ever kart race. You’ve had to replace the chain multiple times, but the pretty white peony charm still remains resilient against your skin. There are no texts from Charles when you finally look at your phone and you sigh. 

I’m really sorry about today. Don’t worry about coming tonight.Je t’aime, bebe. 

Lucas waits for you outside of the bar. He escorts you in, and your heart plummets further into your chest. It should be Charles walking you in. Charles should be here. 

You find it hard to celebrate, even with all your other friends showering you in praise and rounds of shot. You decline most of them, chucking it to an early morning the next day. Alcohol doesn’t sound appealing, even with your friends enticing you with expensive liquor and claims that you just have to black out (Daniel’s words). You try to dance, to socialize, but even in the midst of a party celebrating you, your mind was still miles away. Your attention flickers from your phone to the front door, just hoping that Charles would do just about anything. But alas, the night ends and you still receive nothing from your boyfriend. 

You bid everyone goodnight, letting Lucas know that you will be driving to Ferrari’s hotel to drop a fairly drunk Carlos and to go see Charles. The drive there is calm, Carlos’s drunk ramblings filling the space. He goes on and on about how proud of you he is, and that he knew your win was coming. You follow him all the way to his door, where you wish him goodnight and then make your way to Charles’s room. You tap his door twice with your knuckles. There is very little movement on the other side, and soon the door handle jiggles as he yanks the door open to reveal a very tired Monegasque boy. His eyes are puffy, surrounded by darkness. The usual vibrant green is dulled out with sadness. He frowns at you.

“Why are you here?”

It’s your turn to frown, “I wanted to see you.” 

He lets out a sigh, stepping aside to let you in. Each step you take feels heavier and heavier. It’s almost as if you are dragging cinderblocks behind you. Charles shuts the door as you sit on his bed, slowly undoing the straps of your heels. Your boyfriend kneels before you, moving your hand gently so that he can continue undoing the straps and taking off your shoes. His soft movements make you feel hopeful, reassures you for just a moment. But then he looks up at you, and you watch as the life leaves his eyes. He almost looks resentful, but he gets up and walks to his luggage before you can analyze him further.

“I don’t want to talk tonight, Fleur. Let’s just sleep.” 

You nod, watching as he hands you a shirt for you to change into. You retreat to the bathroom, and as soon as you lock the door your eyes flood with tears. Your hand clamps over your mouth as you try to muffle your sobs, knees buckling to touch the floor. You aren’t sure how long you sit there on his bathroom floor, heart breaking piece by piece as your win eats away at you. The way he looks at you, dismisses you even after his affectionate gesture makes you feel small. You finally muster the strength to stand, your disheveled reflection taunting you. Your make up is smeared and streaky, face blotchy. You looked so sad. Slowly, you slide the white silk off your body and replace it with the grey t-shirt that falls to your mid thigh. There you stand, draped in Charles once more. 

When you walk out of the bathroom, the lights are already off and Charles is snoring softly. You look at him sleeping peacefully, one arm outstretched waiting for your warmth. The warm bathroom light illuminates the room, falls over his pale skin delicately. He looks peaceful. You flick the switch off, darkness engulfing the space. You find your place in his arms, and like clockwork, he wraps them around you and holds you close. 

You don’t sleep that night. The slow cadence of Charles’s breathing doesn’t lull you to sleep like it normally does. Your mind torments you, your sadness turning to anger as the room slowly begins to glow orange. The sun rises, and soon it is pouring harshly into the hotel room. Charles’s alarm goes off, and the boy is quick to turn over and turn it off. You turn over to lay on your back as your boyfriend slips off the bed and going to grab a glass of water. 

“I’m gonna go.” You mutter, pushing yourself off the bed and going to gather your stuff. You don’t notice the perplexed look on Charles’s face as he watches you get ready to leave.

“Oh… but it’s so early.” You hum in agreement, refusing to look at him in fear that you might start crying again. 

“Yeah. Bye Charles.” 

You nearly escape, but your boyfriend is quick to grab you. He cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. His green eyes dart left to right, up and down, trying to read you. He can sense your sadness, the tinge of disappointment as you look up at him. Charles doesn’t say anything, just looking at you with a furrowed brow and wide eyes in hopes that it would be enough for you to stay. Tears begin to brim at your eyes, and you pry away from his calloused hands.

“What the actual fuck is your problem?!” Your stuff falls in disarray around you, long forgotten as your vision turns red. “Why do you look at me like that? Like I owe you something?”

Charles’s is taken aback by your sudden outburst. “What do you mean?”

You scoff, “You so badly want to forget about yesterday, you fail to acknowledge me and my accomplishments. Fail to acknowledge me and my win.” You watch as his face falls, the way he is quick to shake his head and turn away from you. “What now Charles?”

“Maybe you should go. I don’t want to argue right now.” Charles mumbles, picking through his luggage. 

“Why won’t you say it?” Your voice is soft, meek, small. “Why can’t you be happy for me?”

Charles goes rigid, shoulders tense as he hears your sad voice bounce off the walls. “What do you want me to say Fleur?”

“That you’re proud of me? That you’re happy for me?” You take long strides, tiny hands gripping his bicep to turn him around. “I want you to look at me and at least fucking say ‘congratulations Fleur.’” He yanks his arm from your grip and walks around you. “Why can’t you fucking say it Charles? Why can’t you fucking say anything?!”

“Because then I’d be lying!” He turns around to scream his harsh words to your face. He’s panting, face beet red. You’ve never seen him look so angry, you would be afraid if you weren’t equally as furious in that moment. “Because I’m not happy for you. I can’t fucking say congratulations and that I’m happy for you without wanting to throw up!”

Hot tears stream down your face as you stare at the man you love, “You’re a prick.” The boy’s nostrils flare up, but he stays quiet. “How can you be so selfish?”

“This was my home race, if there was a year for me to do it, it should’ve been this year. It should’ve been yesterday.” 

“Well it’s my home race too, Charles. I grew up on these streets, went to school not too far from here, lived just up the road. Monaco is my home too.” 

“It’s different.”

“Different?!” You say loudly, “Why? Because you’re a championship contender and I’m not? Because you’re some hot shot in a Ferrari?” 

“Shut up Fleur.” He says under his breath. You close the distance between you two and you crane your neck to meet his eyes.

“Why is it different Charles? Why is my win not worth a damn thing to you?”

“Because it’s not mine! It’s not important, it doesn’t affect it me! It’s small, minuscule, and is even furthermore one of the reasons I lost.” 

Your body reacts before your brain can, and your hand flies across to slap him in the face. “Do not blame me for your poor results yesterday.” You point your index finger, “And do not chuck one of my biggest accomplishments on your list of excuses for your team’s crap execution.” 

“I look at you and see my loss, my fucking failure. I see one of the worst moments of my life.” Charles turns away from you once more, going for the front door and effectively slamming it in your face. 

You’ve never been so angry with him. After nearly two decades of racing against each other you never thought you would find yourself in this position. He’s normally happy for you, excited for you, the first one to sweep you off your feet to say just how proud he is of you. And though he might have more victories under his belt than you, the wins never got in the way of your relationship the way that it has today. 

You locked yourself in your apartment after leaving Charles’s hotel room, letting your team know that you’d like some space for your little break. You ignored all the phone calls, every text, and stayed bundled up on your couch. When the anger subsided after your conversation with Charles, you were a mess of tears. How you managed to sneak out of the hotel, to your car, and back to yours unseen is a miracle. But you were thankful. 

And so now you sit alone, in the confines of your home with only The Great British Baking Show playing in the background. You felt like a zombie. The sadness and anger you felt was all too consuming, too much for you. His harsh words play in your head, over and over again. I see one of the worst moments of your life. It sends a shiver down your spine when you think of the resentment in his green eyes, or the anger laced in his tone. For the briefest of moments, he had become someone unfamiliar to you. He was no longer the man you love. 

Your phone chimes, and you recognize it to be Charles’s ring tone. You’re ashamed of how quickly you scoop your phone into your hands to see what he says. 

Can we talk?I can come over to yours if you don’t want to walk over to mine.

You nibble your lip in contemplation, weighing your options and wondering if a day and a half of space is enough for you to think clearly. Is it enough time for you to know that you’ll be able to stand you ground? That you won’t melt into his arms and let him string you along with his excuses?

Okay. Just let yourself in. 

You do your best to tidy the space, and isn’t long until you hear the doorknob jiggle and the front door open. You sit yourself at the dining table, looking out the window and over your city. You can hear the soft pit pat of Charles’s feet as he pads over to you, pulling out the chair across you to take a seat. It’s quiet, and you don’t look at him in fear that you might start crying again. 

“Fleur…” Your eyes fall shut at his voice. It is quiet, thick with nerves. “I’m so sorry.” 

You finally open your eyes, turning to look at him. “For what?”

“For the words I said, for not being there for your first ever win in Formula 1. I’m sorry for everything mon amour.”

Mon amour. My love. The words pick at the pieces of your heart. You feel sick to your stomach. 

“You hurt me,” You say, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know. And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.” Charles reaches across the table to take your hands, squeezing them softly in his own. “Please let me make it up to you.”

He’s genuine. He means the words he says. You can see it in his eyes, they’re the most telling part of him. He looks at you like the world is about to crumble beneath him, and still you can’t find it in you to let him in. No part of you wants to melt into him, to allow him to kiss it better and make you forget. Because you know deep down you never will.

That’s the worst part about all of this, you realize. There is no apology that could ever make you forget about the cruel things he said to you. No amount of sorries or flowers or kisses could ever ice the burn of his harsh words. You know that no matter what, when you look at Charles, you would remember that for a moment he loathed you. 

“Charles… I think we need to break up.”

There is ringing in your ears when the words tumble out of your mouth. You don’t notice the way his face falls, how quickly he drops your hands, or the way he stands from his seat to kneel in front of you. You barely hear his pleas, his promises that it will never happen again. It isn’t until you feel his hot tears, falling onto your lap, does the world begin to move quickly.

“Fleur, please. I’m so so sorry. It won’t happen again just please, please don’t let this end.”

“Charles, you don’t know that.” You cup his cheeks, forcing him to look up at you. They are red, filled with tears, sad because you have just ripped his heart out of his chest. 

“Yes, I do.”

“Charles no you don’t.” 

“Mon amour please… I love you.” His voice breaks as he says those three words. Tears stream down his face quickly, his grip on your hands tight. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know.” You whisper, choking back your tears, “I know and I forgive you. But Charles, I will never forget those words. I will never forget that for just a moment in time you looked at me as someone who contributed to your failure. For the first time, I wasn’t your safe space.” He shakes his head, but you nod. Tears sting your eyes, and you swallow the knot in your throat as you continue. “I love you Charles. You have to believe that I do.” 

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s what’s best for us. Because I don’t want this competition to be the reason we learn to resent each other.” You swipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb, “Charles, I don’t want to lose you forever. I don’t want to the nearly twenty years of love and friendship, to be tainted by our hunger in this sport.” 

“It won’t be. Fleur, you have to believe that it won’t.”

“But it already has.” 

You can’t hold back the cries any more. The two of you stay like that for a moment, mourning the loss of the greatest thing you both have experienced. You mourn the loss of a love no longer pure, but ruined by passion and drive. You mourn the loss of innocence, of pure and utter bliss. For a moment, you mourn the loss of one another. 

“I need to go.” Charles finally says. “I need… I need to be away.”

You nod. “Okay.” 

He stands up, gathering his things. Charles looks down at his keys, and with shakes fingers, removes your house key from his set. He places the gold thing in your hands, and you look at each other one last time. 

“Peut-être un jour. Peut-être qu'un jour nous serons à nouveau bons l'un pour l’autre.” Maybe one day. Maybe one day we will be good for each other again.

You smile sadly, nodding. “Peut-être.” Maybe.

Without a thought, you wrap your arms around him one more time. His arms snake around your waist, holding you close. It is safe, warm. In time, it will all be alright. You believe that it will be.

Several days later, there is a knock on your door. And when you open there is a vase of white peonies sitting on your doorstep, with a note neatly tucked in the bouquet. You carry it into your home, setting it down and plucking at the cream envelope to read it. 

𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚛,

𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍’𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗.

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜, 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜.

[lunajay33]

Enjoy the Silence🌪️Part.4

Summary: Things in your past has driven you to be silent but will someone be able to break that shell, will someone finally listen to you(might make this into a series!)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Part.3

•Masterlist•

I thought things may have gone differently, I mean Michonne practically told me how she thought Daryl felt but obviously she was wrong and now I may have ruined my chances with the only person who actually understood me

I stayed in my room all day too embarrased to even face anyone especially Daryl, I put my heart out there and he knew how hard that was for me I just wish he said something, anything

There was a knock on my door so I quickly wiped my tears even though it wouldn’t matter my face was already red and puffy from all the crying

I got up and opened the door and it was Daryl standing all hunched and………shy

“Can I come in?” He asked his voice extra deep

I moved to the side as he came in sitting down on the bed, I closed the door turning to face him my heart beating hard ready for the rejection

“Didn’ mean to leave ya unanswered” I shrugged my shoulders trying to say it was fine even though it hurt

“It’s hard fer me, I’ve never loved someone before or have really been loved so when ya said those words I was frozen, don’t mean I don’t love ya though”

“You love me?” My heart didn’t feel as heavy now

“Yeah, I love ya more than I knew I could love someone and I don’t deserve ya” he said standing and walking over to me blocking me against the door

“You deserve love Daryl, you deserve happiness and to let loose like you helped me” I said clenching the bottom seem of his shirt

“I want that……I do it’s just…….hard” he grumbled leaning down so he could rest his head against mine

“I’m with you Daryl, you don’t have to emotionally stuck anymore I wanna be that constant you can rely on, I wanna be with you” I whispered feeling relaxed as his scent and warmth enveloped me

He didn’t say anything but his eyes softened and I knew he wanted the same, he cupped my right cheek and brushed his thumb back and forth

“Can we go slow” I asked not wanting to ruin the moments so quickly

“ ‘f course”

Daryl and I worked together and helped eachother to open up at first just with eachother but eventually with the group as well, it felt freeing to know I’d always have him by my side, wake up next to him with his arms wrapped around me, reminding me he’d always be there as I would be there for him too

I love him unconditionally and he shows me how much he loves me with little gestures like when he’d go on runs and bring me back little trinkets he thinks I’ll like, I feel happy, I finally feel whole

The End

Taglist: @deansapplepie @in-this-minute @pollito-chicken @mordilwen-of-mirkwood

[fortune-fool02]

Pollito

Luis Serra x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

Ok, Im latino, and in my family and with a lot of my friends we use pollito as a term of endearment but some people who aren't aware of that take offense because it means little chicken. Could we have a Luis x reader where he keeps calling them pollito and they get upset because they think he's trying to insult them and they have a whole moment where he explains that not what he means by it&lt;3

Warning: No Spoiler for RE 4 Remake. Fluff.

I love this so much, it's so cute!

Thank you and please enjoy.

Looking back on this, there was a few questions that bounced around in [Name]'s head. Why did those people want Ashley so badly? What was their plan with this cursed parasite? But most of all: What the Hell was she doing here?

She was a researcher, brought on this mission to help Leon to learn more about potential dangerous pathogens and B.O.Ws, to gather intel and information. She had hardly ever been out in the field like Leon had. So, why on Earth was she standing in the middle of a plague-riddled island with a gun? Taking a moment, [Name] leaned against the building wall, her breathing rapid and sharp, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Leon, however, appeared unfazed as he checked over his ammo and reloaded his gun. Fear rushed along her body, sapping away her energy though she kept going. She had to, for Ashley and Leon. It gripped at her from the moment they encountered those infected people, the savage looks in their eyes, how they held no quarrel with charging weapons at them. Any attempt at reasoning with them was useless.

Still, [Name] tried her best to stand her ground. Even when Leon told her to move back and leave it to him to handle. She was dead-weight at this point. Thankfully, they weren't alone in their little quest.

Luis was a character indeed. A man riddled with a mysterious aura that only peaked her curiosity. Sweet flirtations spilling from his lips when it wasn't a witty quip or comment. The man was also a researcher, like her. Yet he held a bravery to him also, holding his ground against the infected. If he could do it, why couldn't she?

"Wooh! That was something, eh?" Luis smiled, spinning his gun a little before returning it to its holster. Pulling a tissue out, he wiped away the splatters of blood off his face before tossing it away. He leaned up against one of the crates that was spared from Leon's little rampage of destroying some to snatch potential bullets laying about.

"Yeah. Sure." [Name] hummed, trying to shake off the lingering panic. An axe had been launched at her head, missing her by inches as it embedded into the wall beside her head. At that point, she just froze. Luis having to step in to finish off the infected man before he launched another. Never in her entirely life had she had a close brush with death like that. Even when handling pathogens and experimentations, there were safety precautions put in place, ways to ensure the minimum risk of danger. Out here, there was no such thing.

"Oh, come on, pollito, give me a smile." Pollito? She knew some basics of the language to know what it meant. [Name] knew she wasn't the bravest but this was her first time in a situation as dire as this. She wasn't that bad of a coward to be called a chicken, was she? Embarrassment coiled inside her, chocking out the fear and clotting up in its place.

Her eyes tore away from Luis and looked down, pulling out some green and red herbs they got earlier, crushing them up to combine them together into a vial. They had shown to have some unique properties regarding healing, and often were of great use to them. She shuffled over to Leon and set the vial beside him without a word and turned to the small map they had, outlining the island and isolated sections.

They had to cross the lake still, now that they had the fuel for it. Luis having been trying to speak to her only to receive dry, short responses, if not a hum of some degree. Confusion painted his face at her sudden silent treatment. Leon told them to quickly check the surrounding shacks for supplies while he got the boat ready.

[Name] forced open some boxes and picked up any loose bullets or herbs that she found. The door to the small shack softly thudded as Luis stood there, his grey eyes locked onto her, swirling with a mix of concern and confusion.

"[Name], what's the matter? You've been awfully quiet." His question was only responded by a plain "nothing", that didn't satisfy his question at all. He walked over to her, closing the distance between them and had her look at him. "Tell me the truth, pollito."

Another wave of humiliation hit her and she could feel the light sting of tears threatening to build up behind her eyes. She couldn't cry now. "Look, I try my best here. I'm not used to this shit, those things out there! I'm a researcher who spent most of my career behind a desk or counter, not out in the field surrounded by murdererous madmen!"

Luis looked at her, listening to her pour out the built up concerns and worries. "So, I'm sorry that I'm a chicken but you have to get it." A moment passed before Luis softly chuckled at this. His warm smile lifting his face.

"[Name], pollito is a term of endearment for my family. We use it as a pet name or nickname, I'm not insulting you." He leaned against the table a bit, resting his weight. "I never once insulted your bravery. If anything, it's impressive."

His words cut through her, filling her chest with a pleasant comforting warmth, purging away the humiliation pestering her but moments ago. Luis smiled at her, noting her shoulders relax slightly as she took in what he said. He wasn't insulting her. He was just calling her a pet name.

"....oh." That was all she could say. She did feel a little silly now. Luis simply walked over and gently tilted her head up to him, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"Do you think you can give me a smile, pollito?" He hummed. [Name] lifted her lips, giving him a small smile.

"Ah, there we go."

[egoniria]

♡ trufa ♡

muerde madera te sigue al baño observa todo lo que haces se duerme en tu cara pisa tu cara te lame la cara maulla cuando no te encuentra come huevito pollito pepitas de trucha arándano y sabe a quién darle su amor

[shesthespinstersimmer]

Girl’s Night (2)

Previous / Next / Beginning

MERCEDES: ( Laughs ) Some of us find our true loves later in life, Doña. Not everyone gets lucky like you and Pollito.

CONNIE: Yeah. We are lucky.

RANDOM DUDE: Forgive me, but I couldn't help but notice you. Would you do me the honor of letting me buy you a drink?

FERNANDA: That's sweet, but no, thank you. We're good.

DUDE: Alright if I enjoy a drink here, then?

FERNANDA: I mean, it's a bar. That's what it's for.

MERCEDES: Maybe it's time I call Q to come and get us?

CONNIE: Tal vez; este tip no parece que se vaya a callar.

DUDE: Your friend looks like I'm interrupting your night.

FERNANDA: Probably because you kind of are.

DUDE: I just don't get it - women always complain they can't find a good man. One comes along? They're not interested.

FERNANDA: A good man doesn't whine to a group of women obviously trying to have a nice night out to themselves.

CONNIE: You got an eta on Q, Mercedes?

MERCEDES: 5 minutes.

[broken-glowsticks]

To All my STAYs that speak Spanish!

So... I've been referring to Felix with this particular nickname, one that I haven't seen any other stay use. This stems from my absolutely delulu-ness.

May I give you my personal nickname for Felix:

Pollito 🐤

This is totally a pun. We all know Felix's skzoo is Bbokari (who is a chick) and that Felix's Korean name is Yongbok (which is where bbokari's name comes from).

bbokari + Yongbok = bok bok

Get it? Like a chicken cluck?

...

I'll see myself out.

[uncaaj]

Fanfic: I Luv U Emo Boy XD (DuckTales 17)

Based on an AU by @georgiarose and Glo

READ NOW ON AO3!

The perfect day off began like this- with the drop of a CD into a boombox. The disc whirred to life and the echoing notes of a lonely piano filled the subdued, poster-riddled bedroom of Gyro Gearloose. He stretched his lanky arms to the ceiling and brought them down gracefully, cracking his neck just as the lead singer of his favorite band began to tell a story.

When I was a young boy

My father drove me into the city

To see a marching band

Gyro swept his long, jet-black bangs out of his eyes. 

Perfect.

Walking over to the mirror next to his dresser, he snatched a black tube from the top of it and unscrewed the cap. The brush inside emerged covered in cheap eyeliner, color “Eternal Night.” As he carefully drew the makeup around the perimeter of his eyes, making sure to keep the lines simple and clean, he contemplated what he was going to wear. The sun was at its summer peak, roasting everything outside to a fine golden brown. No matter, for he had laid out his outfit the night before, something his parents would call a proactive and studious action. What did they know? They shouldn’t get their hopes up thinking he’d ever live the life they did. He just didn’t want to spend forever deciding what to wear, not when that time was better spent browsing for the new Haythorne Heights CD, which would be out any day now.

That, and impressing his boyfriend.

Speaking of, it was time to see if he was up. He probably was. Gyro was a late sleeper, something his parents frowned upon. Whatever. Gyro closed up the eyeliner and returned it to the dresser, making a mental note that he should get more while he was out. He grabbed his phone and flipped it open, heading straight for the top of his contact list.

“Gyro!” called a voice outside the door. “Can you please turn your music down? Your father can’t hear the big game!”

Gyro rolled his eyes and turned the knob a fraction of a percent down. Parents.

+++

Oh, well, imagine

As I’m pacing the pews in a church corridor

And I can’t help but to hear

No, I can’t help but to hear an exchanging of words

Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera tried not to nod his head to the upbeat, plinky sounds of his own boombox as he applied his eyeliner. Luckily he had done this so much, he had the application down to a fine science. All of his friends were jealous, even Gyro, the emo-est emo he’d ever known.

Fenton’s phone vibrated on his desk. Speaking of…

He finished up and screwed the brush back into the vial. He flipped the phone open with his thumb and saw the new text notification.

“hey loser XD u up?”

Fenton smiled and started pressing the keypad, which he also knew inside and out for the perfect SMSs. “I woke up at 9am this morning. Are you up?”

“lol who r u, my mom?”

“I love you too. :3 When are you coming?”

“in 10 min, we got the new spiked bandS @ the HT”

“:DDDDDD”

“see u soon”

His bedroom door opened. Fenton shut the phone and looked up. M’ma Cabrera walked in, lugging a laundry basket. “You got your clothes sorted, pollito?” she asked.

“Yes, M’ma, on my bed,” said Fenton, turning the music down so he could hear her properly.

She held the basket out on the bed’s edge and scooped the pile of neon tees and striped pull-ons into it with one motion. “So who’s taking you to the mall today?” she asked.

Fenton gulped and ran his fingers through his long purple-tipped hair. He had forgotten to mention that part until now and he knew she wouldn’t be thrilled knowing who he’d grabbed a ride from. “Er, Gyro Gearloose,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

M’ma sighed and put the basket onto the bed. “You know I don’t like you hanging out with that boy.”

“M’ma, he’s not that bad-”

“He’s careless, he’s disrespectful and he smokes- bad habits very easy to pick up. And I bought you all those nice shirts for your first college semester and you are dressing like a piñata!”

“M’ma, this is what everybody’s wearing. But I’m not doing it to fit in. It’s an expression of who I am.”

M’ma sighed again and wrapped her son up in a big hug. “Your mama can’t help it. I just don’t want you getting into any trouble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Fenton, trying a little to squirm out of the hug. “I trust him, and you can trust me.”

M’ma nodded. “Okay, Fenton.” She smooched him on the forehead and went back to grab the laundry basket. “Just make sure you’re back by dinnertime, okay?”

“Yes, M’ma,” said Fenton, waving her out. As soon as the door shut, he exhaled in relief. He loved his M’ma, but boy, was she smothering sometimes.

A little while later, Fenton heard a car horn outside his window. His excitement spiked in his chest and he practically tumbled out the door into the living room. “I’m leaving, M’ma! Love you, see you at dinner, bye!” 

It all came out as one word as he bolted out of the house, but M’ma understood it perfectly anyway. Her own motherly instinct spiking, she carefully placed the sudsy plate she was sponging back into the sink and made her way to the front window. Peeking through the blinds, she saw Fenton and Gyro leaning against the latter’s car. Gyro, dressed in a black beanie, black t-shirt whose band logo she didn’t recognize, black skinny jeans, and black boots despite the blazing temperature outside had his phone held up high, Fenton in his other arm as they posed for a picture. M’ma sighed, seeing wisps of smoke emit from the cigarette in Gyro’s mouth. She knew Fenton was at the age where she could let go some and let him live his life, but darn it if he didn’t make so hard to do so. Still, it was the price of the gig and she would love him and support him to the ends of the earth no matter what.

As the camera shutter clicked, Gyro caught sight of Mrs. Cabrera peeping at them through the front window of Fenton’s house and sent a dark sneer in her direction. She was unfazed, police women usually weren’t, and made the “I have my eyes on you” motion toward him before letting the blinds go and returning to whatever it is she was doing. Gyro rolled his eyes.

“What’s up?” said Fenton.

“Parents,” Gyro scoffed.

“She means well, I promise. She bought me this the other day.” He motioned toward his pink shirt with a kooky character on the front from that one Invader Zir show on TV.

“Well, that’s something. You’ll get tons of likes when I post this on ThisSpace later.”

“D’ya think we’ll make front page?” Fenton bounced on his toes at the thought.

Gyro blushed. Gods, he was so cute. All he could do was shrug and give him a peck on the forehead, then walked over to the driver’s seat of his all-black rustbucket. As Gyro and Fenton peeled away from suburban hell, engine sputtering all the while, he asked, “You mind if we stop at Starducks first? I feel like the undead.”

“Fine with me. Maybe I’ll try that new hibiscus refresher they have.”

“You’re so fruity, dork.”

“You’re my boyfriend so who’s really the fruity one?”

“...touche.”

Gyro pressed the play button, and the two lovebirds entered their pure nirvana set to a CD in a stereo.

Dance, dance

We’re falling apart to half-time

Dance, dance

And these are the lives you love to lead

Dance, this is the way they’d love

If they knew how misery loved me

[wileys-russo]

Platonic!Alexia Putellas, “How did you even manage to get up there?!?!”, tree

stuck II a.putellas/barça-femeni

"come on!" cata groaned as the ball sailed right past her head again, a widespread grin on your face from the free kick spot. "thats five for five coll, you're losing your touch!" you taunted, the spaniard flipping you off and kicking the ball back to you.

"i'm done with this humilation amiga!" the goalkeeper pulled her gloves off with a defeated shake of her head, making her way out of the goal.

"have you thought about maybe saving some then? won't be so humiliating." you grinned, pulled quickly into a headlock by the girl who chastised you in spanish before letting you up.

"hey!" you groaned as no sooner were you freed did a weight land on your back almost causing your knees to buckle as you stumbled but steadied yourself.

"hola!" mapi sung out, clinging onto you as you tried to shake her off. "finished your laps then?" you laughed, the older girls constant chatter throughout training meaning she was ordered to run an extra ten laps of the pitch under your captains watchful eyes.

"yes! my legs are like jelly compañero, carry me." mapi sighed tiredly, tattooed hand patting your cheek as you struggled to take steps forward.

"for a tiny person you're so heavy." you grunted out as she scoffed in offence. "i am not tiny or heavy!" the defender protested as you rolled your eyes. "tell that to me i'm the one carrying you maría." you groaned out.

"do not call me that! makes me feel like i am in trouble." the older girl huffed as you made your way inside and headed for the change rooms. "why because thats what ingrid says when she's mad at you?" you snickered, whining as mapi sharply tugged your ears for the comment.

"ow! you can walk yourself then!" you dropped her without any warning causing her to fall onto her ass with a hiss of pain. "at least help me up." the older girl held a hand out as you rolled your eyes but grabbed it.

you let out a yelp as suddenly you joined the defender on the ground, mapi hopping to her feet with a grin as a few of the girls wandered out of the change rooms.

"you fall for that everytime pollito." mapi grinned with a shake of her head as you glared up at her, catching both her girlfriends and your captains eyes over mapi's shoulder, both who frowned curiously at the sight of you on the floor.

"ingrid, ale! she's picking on me again." you pouted as ingrids face hardened and she started to quickly walk over, alexia following suit. "mentirosa!" mapi gasped as the taller girls arrived and immediately helped you up.

"she asked me for money for the vending machine and then pushed me over when i said no." you sighed, ingrid pulling you into a tight hug and glaring at her girlfriend whose mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"princesa she's lying!" mapi defended herself with a scoff, eyes burning holes into your head as you sent her a smug smile which quickly turned into a frown when ingrid glanced down at you.

"what have i said about bullying her maría?" ingrid warned as mapi could only scoff in disbelief, alexia running a hand through your hair with a shake of her head.

"honestly, maría you're supposed to be a role model for her she's only sixteen. act your age!" alexia warned, ingrids arms still protectively wrapped around you as both girls guided you away.

you only peeked around them and grinned at mapi who was staring after you venomously, your hand curling up to flip her off as her jaw dropped before you rounded a corner and were out of sight.

as much as in that moment mapi wanted nothing more than to wring your neck, she couldn't deny she really did harbour a large soft spot for you, seeing a lot of herself within you and hoping to be able to use that to guide you forward as you grew older.

so when an hour later you appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a smile and a peace offering in the form of her favourite candy bar, she didn't have a choice but to roll her eyes and pull you into a hug.

however just because mapi cared for you did not stop her also viewing you as the ultimate source of entertainment. as pina and patri grew wiser they stopped giving into the dares and challenges mapi would set them, frustratingly.

but then you came along and suddenly her attentions shifted, forever egging you on to do things to mess with your teammates, and most of the time helping you.

your innocent smile and charming demeanor meant that you were the perfect shield for her to hide behind, alexia rarely ever able to stay upset with you for more than a moment and everyone else just brushing it off as you being young and adventurous.

it was on this particular tuesday after you'd weasled your way back into mapi's good books and alexia had landed herself onto her hit list with the extra laps that mapi decided to make a move.

"i bet you cannot hide ale's boots somewhere she can't find them pollito." mapi pulled you into the change rooms as everyone else headed off for lunch, the defender watching on gleefully at the way your face lit up at the challenge.

"is this because of the extra laps?" you questioned, not quite as gullible as mapi had hoped as she rolled her eyes. "maybe." was all the defender replied as you shrugged, not really needing much convincing to go forward with it anyway.

despite the fact she kept an incredibly tidy home, which you would know given the fact you lived with her, alexia's cubby was rarely not messy, boxes on boxes of shoes stacked on the top shelf as various bottles, medical tape and knick knacks littered the cubby itself.

you smiled at the photos of her and her family taped to the wall having been all but legally adopted into it anyway, eli claiming you as her third daughter from the very moment she met you. you rolled your eyes at the pictures of you taped up, most of which were taken candidly when you weren't looking.

standing up on the bench you rifled through the various nike boxes until you found your captains favourite pair of boots, tugging them out and placing everything back the way you found it.

"where are you going?" mapi asked with a confused frown as you hopped down and headed for the door with the boots in hand. "you only said to hide them, you didn't say it had to be in here."

"you're not landing that!" mapi scoffed in disbelief as you'd tied alexia's boots together and were attempting to throw them up and over a tall tree branch, routinely missing time and time again as they fell to the grass and you sighed.

"new plan." you hummed looking around for a new hiding spot. "or, climb up." mapi gestured to the tree as you looked at it with a hint of uncertainty. "unless you are too scared, pollito." mapi taunted making chicken noises as your jaw hardened.

"gimme those." snatching the boots out of her hand you slung them around your neck, looking up again at the tree with a newfound determination, mapi cheering you on as you started to climb.

"see!" you grinned successfully, sat on a branch and hanging alexia's boots with a satisfied nod, mapi clapping her approval and gesturing for you to get down.

"uh maps?" you called out as the defender had started to walk back toward the training building, turning and raising an eyebrow as your face paled. "i can't." you shook your head as hers cocked to the side in confusion.

"what do you mean?" "i mean, i can't get down." you admitted, not having thought that far when you'd clambered up here, the height in which you were sat now dawning on you as suddenly things became even worse.

"pequeña?" your eyes widened as alexia wandered out, clearly looking for you as she spotted mapi and walked over, asking in spanish if she had seen you considering lunch had long began and you weren't ever someone to miss food.

"okay amiga, don't be mad." mapi started placing her hands on her best friends shoulders who immediately frowned. "maría that is the easiest way to get me mad!" alexia warned with a scowl, pushing her hands off as ingrid walked out next followed by frido as you sighed in defeat.

"whats going on? ale did you find her?" frido asked as the two arrived and mapi rubbed the back of her neck with a guilty smile ingrid knew all too well. "where is she amor?" her girlfriend sighed, rubbing her temple with her fingertips already knowing something bad was happening.

"eh...there?" her hand moved to stretch toward the sky, finger pointing you out as the three girls eyes followed, widening in horror as you gave them a small wave, cheeks flushed red.

"maría. why is she in a tree?" alexia turned her gaze on her best friend who shrank, frido and ingrid hurrying over to the tree as mapi started to back up, alexia advancing with clenched fists.

"its a funny story?" mapi tried with a nervous laugh, turning on heel and sprinting off as alexia moved to grab the back of her training top but missed, cursing under her breath.

"traitor!" you yelled after the tattooed footballer who disappeared inside. "get down älska. right now!" frido yelled glaring up at you as your body deflated. "i can't." you mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.

"how did you even manage to get up there!?" alexia yelled making you wince, ingrid already on the phone to someone as you swang your legs back and forth avoiding the blondes eyes.

"i climbed up, just didn't think about how to climb down." you admitted as alexia inhaled and closed her eyes, counting to three as frido rubbed her back sympathetically.

"firetruck will be here in ten, they'll get her down." ingrid returned as your eyes widened in shock. "no way! this place is huge and you're saying the groundsmen don't even have a ladder?" you whined with a groan.

"i hope you told them to have the sirens on." alexia glared up at you as your eyes widened even further. "oh yes. lights, sirens, the full experience." ingrid confirmed as you exhaled deeply, crossing your arms and huffing unhappily.

and lights and sirens there were.

the disruption had caused practically the entire team and staff to come outside, your face burning bright red in embarrassment as an erruption of teasing, whistles and cheers greeted you once your feet hit the grass again.

you hissed in pain as alexia appeared, grabbing your ear and twisting it. "what do you say?" she ordered pointing to the firemen who helped you. "thank you." you mumbled, eyes trained to the ground and wincing as alexia pinched harder. "and?"

"sorry for wasting your time." you mumbled again, nearly falling over your feet as the furious blonde dragged you away still with a firm grip on your ear, your blush deepening at the teasing words from everyone which followed.

"nope! you too." mapi tried to hide before she was seen but it was to no avail as alexia grabbed the younger girls ear and pulled her inside, mapi whining while you remained silent, ingrid following after her with a dissapointed look.

"sit!" you were both pulled into the locker room and pushed to sit down side by side on the bench, mapi glaring up at her best friend and rubbing her ear as you remained silent, eyes trained to the floor.

"sorry chiqui." mapi winced as she looked at you and your ear which was just as red as hers, trying to hug you as you pushed her off and sent her a filthy look making her cringe.

both your gazes shifted as alexia cleared her throat, eyes still ablaze with anger as ingrid stood beside her fixing her girlfriend with a look that meant mapi knew she'd be sleeping in the living room tonight, no exceptions.

"why the hell were you in a tree huh? estúpido!" you frowned as alexia directed the question to you, words racing through your head as something clicked and your frown melted into a pout.

when you added a sad sigh that only mapi knew was very much so fake, her head turned, eyes wide in fear of what was about to come out of your mouth.

"capi i only went up there for you." you mumbled, hitting alexia with your best puppy dog eyes as she frowned and mapi inhaled sharply, seeing where you were going to take this.

"what do you mean?" alexia asked, tone a little softer now as again you sighed.

"well mapi threw your boots up there and i know they're your favourite pair ale so i tried to climb up and get them back for you, but then i got stuck and mapi ran away without helping me." you rested your chin on your fist with another sad sigh.

"pequeña diablo mentiroso." mapi whispered under her breath, shaking her head with a look of disbelief as you glanced to her, corners of your mouth upturned smugly just for a moment.

"maría!" ingrid hissed in disbelief as mapi stammered out the truth but it was far too late, alexia already sat on your other side and looking over your ear, kissing your forehead and cooing repeated apologies as you tucked yourself into her side.

"we're leaving. go!" ingrid warned sternly, pointing to the door as mapi gave up defending herself, grabbing her bag as ingrid hugged you tightly, saying something inaudible as you smiled at mapi over her shoulder.

"you lose!" you mouthed at her smugly as the defender sighed deeply, shaking her head before mouthing something back at you, admittedly almost as proud as she was infuriated.

"well played amiga."

[kitakati]

I took too many screenshots of them not to share more

A little backstory on them, Mari and Fernando are siblings and Isai's childhood friends/neighbors, and were the first kids who helped him come back to himself after arriving in Del Sol Valley with his dad.

Lore continues below ⬇️ tw violence / tw homophobia / tw abuse

If there were different Latin American countries in the sims world, they would be the equivalent of Mexican, but born in Del Sol Valley.

Isai and Mari have an annoying older sister, annoying younger brother relationship (they are 2 years apart), but they were always there for each other when they needed to just sit and talk or escape the rough life situations they grew up around. She calls him Pollito which means little chick because when Isai arrived from Selvadorada when he was around 9 years old, after a few months of mourning the loss of his mother during the journey, he would stick to Mari's side until his confidence got back to him and he was himself again. He was also small for his age until his growth spurt in his junior year of high school.

Fernando used to be very hot headed and stubborn, more so than he is as an adult, so when he first met Isai he would lose patience with him and get frustrated that he would be mute and wouldn't do anything on his own. Fernando had to get pushed by his sister to open up to Isai since they are the same age, and she felt that he needed friends too. After a few years of slow work Isai's warm confident personality started to shine through. Fernando found himself gravitating toward him more, wanting to get closer and even feeling like the beginning of a crush when they were starting high school. Mari helped him understand his feelings and what they meant, and he came out as gay to those he felt safe with. But his dad caught him staring at Isai too long once and beat him until Mari came in with a knife and outed herself as lesbian to her father and told him if he was so angry, that he would have to save some energy to beat her too, which made him back off. Their dad ended up taking a temporary job out of state a few weeks later and never came back.

They got along well and with Mari, the three of them would get into trouble, pulling pranks on the older rich kids who treated them badly, stealing little things from corner stores, exploding fireworks in the neighborhood, and getting into small fights with anyone they felt disrespected them. Isai would get scolded and punished by not being able to do anything with his time other than school, sports, and studying. When Mari and Fernando still lived with their dad, he was abusive and would scream, throw things and hit them if he completely lost his temper. But once that period was over, the three of them would always go back to their normal teenage shenanigans.

As adults, Isai doesn't see them as much as he used to, but he and Fernando used to have a kind of side-down low relationship while he was off playing in sports leagues and travelling. Meanwhile, back in Del Sol Valley, Fernando was getting involved in street life and crime. They weren't exclusive and it was one sided so after a few years Isai and Fernando talked and called it off. Fernando definitely still has feelings though. They still very deeply care about each other.

[santiagoxpierce]

"Would you like to come to blooming acres with me, pollito?" Santiago asked Val, already getting ready to leave. He had a few free days coming up and he figured that he might as well get the front- and back yard up to spruce. Perhaps surprise Viktor along with it too. And though he was gay, his taste in flowers and plants weren't exactly his forte. "Your old man needs your opinion." @valxdelgado

[autistic-sidestep]

uno_reverse_card.gif im cheating and using a few ideas from the meme bc i have No braincells but i DO crave that suranga lore SO--

favorite color to wear AND favorite color in general, if they're different things; favorite genre of any media AND what his favorite type of media is (music, movies, shows, etc), favorite person, AND what he thinks abt the rat king :3

k lets finally fuckign answer this

favourite colour: phthalo green! namely why it's a very core part of the argos suit. they like wearing blacks/greys/dark greens and blues, those tend to lean into the more professional/conservative look they're angling for as a mob step, but i'm sure if they weren't having to worry abt staying lowkey in civilian cover they'd love to dress up in more bright colours, jewel tones n such. as for now, most of that's reserved for when they're juno (pre-debut) and argos.

their cuckoo training's given them an aversion to opera and ballet, given those featured heavily in the functions they were meant to infiltrate as a cuckoo, sometimes as a dancer themselves. but! musicals and plays, for sure. The COSTUMES. THE EMOTIONS. tia elena probably invites sura to come with her one time and they're hooked (i want to believe wicked's in the fh verse, they'd be all over that. misunderstood outcast tarred as a villain? YEAH. post-hb it'd have even more resonance; no good deed is SO fitting cos of past-self rivalry. defying gravity, too.) then there's 70s-80s rock, esp queen (ofc the lead singer is the purrcury's namesake), sharing the same taste in music as pelayo and joes lol.

they're a classics/shakespeare nerd too, (hence why sura's puppet was named juno), and they'd especially enjoy viola's genderfuckery in twelfth night (and honestly, the mental image of argos going "it's SHAKESPEARE you HEATHEN" after quoting something from one of the tragedies at a clueless hero is too funny to pass up. they're just bringing some class to the villain scene.)

they like movies, though they do find it a little less engaging w/o the minds to read. a good few hollywood golden age, but animated ones are probably their favourite thanks to themmy. they binged a bunch of cartoon movies together, and lilo and stitch is their favourite cos of the BIG relate to lilo being a weird autistic girl and stitch being an escaped experiment that was made to be evil, but learned to love,,,,,

favorite person: pre-hb, it was a tie between ortega, tia elena (she nicknamed sura pollito, and she's the Only person sura will allow to call them that) and, as expected, themmy, in no small part due to the fact they all kept feeding sura. and he kept coming back like a stray cat lol. they made sura feel safe and loved and valued, and not just a little kid. themmy (in my hc) being openly autistic especially helped sura be less insecure about how young he came off, especially when the farmhands infantilised the regenes so much (and by extension, learning to mask and suppress his autistic traits). part of hiding his face (and lowering his voice) was so people would take him seriously, cos he was well aware how babyish he looked. it was a huge relief not to do that anymore, or at least do it less.

themmy: so what did you think?

t:

t: are you crying?

sura, sniffling and very obviously holding back tears: no

throughout rebirth, it was just mortum, largely cos they felt like the friendships they had as sidestep, being able to relax in someone else's company, this time, in juno's body. they love nerding out with her on tech stuff, critiquing peoples' suits, and just generally having someone that Gets It about just sitting in silence hanging out (mortum reads as neurodivergent to me).

it's a tie between her and chen now, to the surprise of both sura and chen, given how much friction they used to have lol. turns out that they have a lot in common (better at bonding with animals instead of people), more so than before hb, of course. (i am also pushing my autistic chen agenda, and that was part of the friction between the two was that step was trained to understand allistic inclined people. chen operates on different rules. but also given chens scepticism about the suspiciously well-trained young vigilante thing, i'll give him a pass for that too.)

rat king opinions: SURA ADORES THE GIRLS. sorta filling the void fred did, but not quite. i like to think of them as like… a telepathic equivalent of a service dog. if sura wasn't a mob step, they'd be a lot more dependent on them for interaction, but as is, they're a reliable supportive presence that sura knows will always have its back. it's nice to have another telepath to communicate with! routinely gives them mental scritches and treats for being the best telepathic rat brains in the whole world. they deserve it!!(and an added bonus, that also involves some self-care for herself. can't disappoint/let them down. it's a win/win.)