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kombuuuu · 1 year

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Somethin’ Soft for someone Tough.

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

i ❤️ miles and he is so bf uhuh (i’m insane put me in a cell)

also he’s soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT

warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times

I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)

—

Miles didn’t understand your hurt. He didn’t understand why you hated him being the Prowler—, didn’t understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..

-Profession.

It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. He’d already lost enough, he can’t lose you. He won’t. You just didn’t get that.

Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasn’t.

He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.

So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.

And he didn’t try to understand why.

—

It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.

Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.

It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).

Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.

Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.

Assuring you he was nothing but careful,—

“Mami, ¿por qué iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.”

"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."

A bashful murmur of “Just be more careful.” Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Miles’ bed awaiting his return that’s seemingly taking years.

A crash outside your (boyfriends’) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.

The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Miles’ stumbling body from toppling through.

A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.

“Hey, mami.”

Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.

“Miles, what happened?” Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.

“I tripped.”

You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.

“C’mon, baby, come inside.” Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didn’t catch it.

Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.

He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.

You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.

He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasn’t one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.

“No está tan mal, ma.”

"It's not so bad, ma."

His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.

His boxers,—

—,his hand twitched.

“Not that bad?” Your hushed voice bled of concern. “There’s a gash in your side!”

The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.

You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.

You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. “Amor, It’s just a—“ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.

“No digas que es sólo un corte.”

"Don't say it's just a cut."

“Mi sol, I have suffered worse.”

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume you’d need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.

“You look good like this, mami.”

You choked slightly, glaring up at him.

“Take off your jacket, Morales.”

"Sabes, si querías que me desnudara..."

"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."

“One more word.”

“Understood.”

He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.

It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.

“What were you cut with, Papi?”

His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.

“A knife, probably.”

Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.

“Figures.”

You hid your smile.

He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.

“Mami, entiendo que estés enojada, but please be gentle.”

"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."

He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.

“I am gentle.”

“Sure.”

You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.

The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.

“There, all done.”

“Not gonna kiss it better?”

You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.

Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.

“Lay down, baby.”

He whispered your name, “Chiquita, you take such good care of me.”

Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.

“Gon’ spoil you after this.”

You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.

“You already spoil me, Papi.”

Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.

“‘S’cause you deserve it.”

He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.

You giggled, “Need help, baby?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “I got it.”

“Mhm.” He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.

“C’mere mami.” He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. “Mm—“ “Shh, it don’t hurt.” You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.

The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.

“It’s hot baby, we’re gonna get all sweaty.”

“Hopefully.”

“Miles.”

You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Mm, there. Now you’re all better.”

He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.

He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and he’d already had a running start.

He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers you’d created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.

Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.

“Much.”

He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.

It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.

—

first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again

as angst is all i’m good for

i literally don’t know how to write fluff so pray it was good

IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in Skinner boxes

Enshittification is the process by which digital platforms devour themselves: first they dangle goodies in front of end users. Once users are locked in, the goodies are taken away and dangled before business customers who supply goods to the users. Once those business customers are stuck on the platform, the goodies are clawed away and showered on the platform’s shareholders:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Enshittification isn’t just another way of saying “fraud” or “price gouging” or “wage theft.” Enshittification is intrinsically digital, because moving all those goodies around requires the flexibility that only comes with a digital businesses. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can’t rapidly change the price of eggs at Whole Foods without an army of kids with pricing guns on roller-skates. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can change the price of eggs on Amazon Fresh just by twiddling a knob on the service’s back-end.

Twiddling is the key to enshittification: rapidly adjusting prices, conditions and offers. As with any shell game, the quickness of the hand deceives the eye. Tech monopolists aren’t smarter than the Gilded Age sociopaths who monopolized rail or coal — they use the same tricks as those monsters of history, but they do them faster and with computers:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

If Rockefeller wanted to crush a freight company, he couldn’t just click a mouse and lay down a pipeline that ran on the same route, and then click another mouse to make it go away when he was done. When Bezos wants to bankrupt Diapers.com — a company that refused to sell itself to Amazon — he just moved a slider so that diapers on Amazon were being sold below cost. Amazon lost $100m over three months, diapers.com went bankrupt, and every investor learned that competing with Amazon was a losing bet:

https://slate.com/technology/2013/10/amazon-book-how-jeff-bezos-went-thermonuclear-on-diapers-com.html

That’s the power of twiddling — but twiddling cuts both ways. The same flexibility that digital businesses enjoy is hypothetically available to workers and users. The airlines pioneered twiddling ticket prices, and that naturally gave rise to countertwiddling, in the form of comparison shopping sites that scraped the airlines’ sites to predict when tickets would be cheapest:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/27/knob-jockeys/#bros-be-twiddlin

The airlines — like all abusive businesses — refused to tolerate this. They were allowed to touch their knobs as much as they wanted — indeed, they couldn’t stop touching those knobs — but when we tried to twiddle back, that was “felony contempt of business model,” and the airlines sued:

https://www.cnbc.com/2014/12/30/airline-sues-man-for-founding-a-cheap-flights-website.html

And sued:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/06/business/southwest-airlines-lawsuit-prices.html

Platforms don’t just hate it when end-users twiddle back — if anything they are even more aggressive when their business-users dare to twiddle. Take Para, an app that Doordash drivers used to get a peek at the wages offered for jobs before they accepted them — something that Doordash hid from its workers. Doordash ruthlessly attacked Para, saying that by letting drivers know how much they’d earn before they did the work, Para was violating the law:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/tech-rights-are-workers-rights-doordash-edition

Which law? Well, take your pick. The modern meaning of “IP” is “any law that lets me use the law to control my competitors, competition or customers.” Platforms use a mix of anticircumvention law, patent, copyright, contract, cybersecurity and other legal systems to weave together a thicket of rules that allow them to shut down rivals for their Felony Contempt of Business Model:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Enshittification relies on unlimited twiddling (by platforms), and a general prohibition on countertwiddling (by platform users). Enshittification is a form of fishing, in which bait is dangled before different groups of users and then nimbly withdrawn when they lunge for it. Twiddling puts the suppleness into the enshittifier’s fishing-rod, and a ban on countertwiddling weighs down platform users so they’re always a bit too slow to catch the bait.

Nowhere do we see twiddling’s impact more than in the “gig economy,” where workers are misclassified as independent contractors and put to work for an app that scripts their every move to the finest degree. When an app is your boss, you work for an employer who docks your pay for violating rules that you aren’t allowed to know — and where your attempts to learn those rules are constantly frustrated by the endless back-end twiddling that changes the rules faster than you can learn them.

As with every question of technology, the issue isn’t twiddling per se — it’s who does the twiddling and who gets twiddled. A worker armed with digital tools can play gig work employers off each other and force them to bid up the price of their labor; they can form co-ops with other workers that auto-refuse jobs that don’t pay enough, and use digital tools to organize to shift power from bosses to workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Take “reverse centaurs.” In AI research, a “centaur” is a human assisted by a machine that does more than either could do on their own. For example, a chess master and a chess program can play a better game together than either could play separately. A reverse centaur is a machine assisted by a human, where the machine is in charge and the human is a meat-puppet.

Think of Amazon warehouse workers wearing haptic location-aware wristbands that buzz at them continuously dictating where their hands must be; or Amazon drivers whose eye-movements are continuously tracked in order to penalize drivers who look in the “wrong” direction:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

The difference between a centaur and a reverse centaur is the difference between a machine that makes your life better and a machine that makes your life worse so that your boss gets richer. Reverse centaurism is the 21st Century’s answer to Taylorism, the pseudoscience that saw white-coated “experts” subject workers to humiliating choreography down to the smallest movement of your fingertip:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

While reverse centaurism was born in warehouses and other company-owned facilities, gig work let it make the leap into workers’ homes and cars. The 21st century has seen a return to the cottage industry — a form of production that once saw workers labor far from their bosses and thus beyond their control — but shriven of the autonomy and dignity that working from home once afforded:

https://doctorow.medium.com/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk-463e2730ef0d

The rise and rise of bossware — which allows for remote surveillance of workers in their homes and cars — has turned “work from home” into “live at work.” Reverse centaurs can now be chickenized — a term from labor economics that describes how poultry farmers, who sell their birds to one of three vast poultry processors who have divided up the country like the Pope dividing up the “New World,” are uniquely exploited:

https://onezero.medium.com/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs-b2e8d5cda826

A chickenized reverse centaur has it rough: they must pay for the machines they use to make money for their bosses, they must obey the orders of the app that controls their work, and they are denied any of the protections that a traditional worker might enjoy, even as they are prohibited from deploying digital self-help measures that let them twiddle back to bargain for a better wage.

All of this sets the stage for a phenomenon called algorithmic wage discrimination, in which two workers doing the same job under the same conditions will see radically different payouts for that work. These payouts are continuously tweaked in the background by an algorithm that tries to predict the minimum sum a worker will accept to remain available without payment, to ensure sufficient workers to pick up jobs as they arise.

This phenomenon — and proposed policy and labor solutions to it — is expertly analyzed in “On Algorithmic Wage Discrimination,” a superb paper by UC Law San Franciscos Veena Dubal:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4331080

Dubal uses empirical data and enthnographic accounts from Uber drivers and other gig workers to explain how endless, self-directed twiddling allows gig companies pay workers less and pay themselves more. As @[email protected] explains in his LA Times article on Dubal’s research, the goal of the payment algorithm is to guess how often a given driver needs to receive fair compensation in order to keep them driving when the payments are unfair:

https://www.latimes.com/business/technology/story/2023-04-11/algorithmic-wage-discrimination

The algorithm combines nonconsensual dossiers compiled on individual drivers with population-scale data to seek an equilibrium between keeping drivers waiting, unpaid, for a job; and how much a driver needs to be paid for an individual job, in order to keep that driver from clocking out and doing something else. @ Here’s how that works. Sergio Avedian, a writer for The Rideshare Guy, ran an experiment with two brothers who both drove for Uber; one drove a Tesla and drove intermittently, the other brother rented a hybrid sedan and drove frequently. Sitting side-by-side with the brothers, Avedian showed how the brother with the Tesla was offered more for every trip:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UADTiL3S67I

Uber wants to lure intermittent drivers into becoming frequent drivers. Uber doesn’t pay for an oversupply of drivers, because it only pays drivers when they have a passenger in the car. Having drivers on call — but idle — is a way for Uber to shift the cost of maintaining a capacity cushion to its workers.

What’s more, what Uber charges customers is not based on how much it pays its workers. As Uber’s head of product explained: Uber uses “machine-learning techniques to estimate how much groups of customers are willing to shell out for a ride. Uber calculates riders’ propensity for paying a higher price for a particular route at a certain time of day. For instance, someone traveling from a wealthy neighborhood to another tony spot might be asked to pay more than another person heading to a poorer part of town, even if demand, traffic and distance are the same.”

https://qz.com/990131/uber-is-practicing-price-discrimination-economists-say-that-might-not-be-a-bad-thing/

Uber has historically described its business a pure supply-and-demand matching system, where a rush of demand for rides triggers surge pricing, which lures out drivers, which takes care of the demand. That’s not how it works today, and it’s unclear if it ever worked that way. Today, a driver who consults the rider version of the Uber app before accepting a job — to compare how much the rider is paying to how much they stand to earn — is booted off the app and denied further journeys.

Surging, instead, has become just another way to twiddle drivers. One of Dubal’s subjects, Derrick, describes how Uber uses fake surges to lure drivers to airports: “You go to the airport, once the lot get kind of full, then the surge go away.” Other drivers describe how they use groupchats to call out fake surges: “I’m in the Marina. It’s dead. Fake surge.”

That’s pure twiddling. Twiddling turns gamification into gamblification, where your labor buys you a spin on a roulette wheel in a rigged casino. As a driver called Melissa, who had doubled down on her availability to earn a $100 bonus awarded for clocking a certain number of rides, told Dubal, “When you get close to the bonus, the rides start trickling in more slowly…. And it makes sense. It’s really the type of shit that they can do when it’s okay to have a surplus labor force that is just sitting there that they don’t have to pay for.”

Wherever you find reverse-centaurs, you get this kind of gamblification, where the rules are twiddled continuously to make sure that the house always wins. As a contract driver Amazon reverse centaur told Lauren Gurley for Motherboard, “Amazon uses these cameras allegedly to make sure they have a safer driving workforce, but they’re actually using them not to pay delivery companies”:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/88npjv/amazons-ai-cameras-are-punishing-drivers-for-mistakes-they-didnt-make

Algorithmic wage discrimination is the robot overlord of our nightmares: its job is to relentlessly quest for vulnerabilities and exploit them. Drivers divide themselves into “ants” (drivers who take every job) and “pickers” (drivers who cherry-pick high-paying jobs). The algorithm’s job is ensuring that pickers get the plum assignments, not the ants, in the hopes of converting those pickers to app-dependent ants.

In my work on enshittification, I call this the “giant teddy bear” gambit. At every county fair, you’ll always spot some poor jerk carrying around a giant teddy-bear they “won” on the midway. But they didn’t win it — not by getting three balls in the peach-basket. Rather, the carny running the rigged game either chose not to operate the “scissor” that kicks balls out of the basket. Or, if the game is “honest” (that is, merely impossible to win, rather than gimmicked), the operator will make a too-good-to-refuse offer: “Get one ball in and I’ll give you this keychain. Win two keychains and I’ll let you trade them for this giant teddy bear.”

Carnies aren’t in the business of giving away giant teddy bears — rather, the gambit is an investment. Giving a mark a giant teddy bear to carry around the midway all day acts as a convincer, luring other marks to try to land three balls in the basket and win their own teddy bear.

In the same way, platforms like Uber distribute giant teddy bears to pickers, as a way of keeping the ants scurrying from job to job, and as a way of convincing the pickers to give up whatever work allows them to discriminate among Uber’s offers and hold out for the plum deals, whereupon then can be transmogrified into ants themselves.

Dubal describes the experience of Adil, a Syrian refugee who drives for Uber in the Bay Area. His colleagues are pickers, and showed him screenshots of how much they earned. Determined to get a share of that money, Adil became a model ant, driving two hours to San Francisco, driving three days straight, napping in his car, spending only one day per week with his family. The algorithm noticed that Adil needed the work, so it paid him less.

Adil responded the way the system predicted he would, by driving even more: “My friends they make it, so I keep going, maybe I can figure it out. It’s unsecure, and I don’t know how people they do it. I don’t know how I am doing it, but I have to. I mean, I don’t find another option. In a minute, if I find something else, oh man, I will be out immediately. I am a very patient person, that’s why I can continue.”

Another driver, Diego, told Dubal about how the winners of the giant teddy bears fell into the trap of thinking that they were “good at the app”: “Any time there’s some big shot getting high pay outs, they always shame everyone else and say you don’t know how to use the app. I think there’s secret PR campaigns going on that gives targeted payouts to select workers, and they just think it’s all them.”

That’s the power of twiddling: by hoarding all the flexibility offered by digital tools, the management at platforms can become centaurs, able to string along thousands of workers, while the workers are reverse-centaurs, puppeteered by the apps.

As the example of Adil shows, the algorithm doesn’t need to be very sophisticated in order to figure out which workers it can underpay. The system automates the kind of racial and gender discrimination that is formally illegal, but which is masked by the smokescreen of digitization. An employer who systematically paid women less than men, or Black people less than white people, would be liable to criminal and civil sanctions. But if an algorithm simply notices that people who have fewer job prospects drive more and will thus accept lower wages, that’s just “optimization,” not racism or sexism.

This is the key to understanding the AI hype bubble: when ghouls from multinational banks predict 13 trillion dollar markets for “AI,” what they mean is that digital tools will speed up the twiddling and other wage-suppression techniques to transfer $13T in value from workers and consumers to shareholders.

The American business lobby is relentlessly focused on the goal of reducing wages. That’s the force behind “free trade,” “right to work,” and other codewords for “paying workers less,” including “gig work.” Tech workers long saw themselves as above this fray, immune to labor exploitation because they worked for a noble profession that took care of its own.

But the epidemic of mass tech-worker layoffs, following on the heels of massive stock buybacks, has demonstrated that tech bosses are just like any other boss: willing to pay as little as they can get away with, and no more. Tech bosses are so comfortable with their market dominance and the lock-in of their customers that they are happy to turn out hundreds of thousands of skilled workers, convinced that the twiddling systems they’ve built are the kinds of self-licking ice-cream cones that are so simple even a manager can use them — no morlocks required.

The tech worker layoffs are best understood as an all-out war on tech worker morale, because that morale is the source of tech workers’ confidence and thus their demands for a larger share of the value generated by their labor. The current tech layoff template is very different from previous tech layoffs: today’s layoffs are taking place over a period of months, long after they are announced, and laid off tech worker is likely to be offered a months of paid post-layoff work, rather than severance. This means that tech workplaces are now haunted by the walking dead, workers who have been laid off but need to come into the office for months, even as the threat of layoffs looms over the heads of the workers who remain. As an old friend, recently laid off from Microsoft after decades of service, wrote to me, this is “a new arrow in the quiver of bringing tech workers to heel and ensuring that we’re properly thankful for the jobs we have (had?).”

Dubal is interested in more than analysis, she’s interested in action. She looks at the tactics already deployed by gig workers, who have not taken all this abuse lying down. Workers in the UK and EU organized through Worker Info Exchange and the App Drivers and Couriers Union have used the GDPR (the EU’s privacy law) to demand “algorithmic transparency,” as well as access to their data. In California, drivers hope to use similar provisions in the CCPA (a state privacy law) to do the same.

These efforts have borne fruit. When Cornell economists, led by Louis Hyman, published research (paid for by Uber) claiming that Uber drivers earned an average of $23/hour, it was data from these efforts that revealed the true average Uber driver’s wage was $9.74. Subsequent research in California found that Uber drivers’ wage fell to $6.22/hour after the passage of Prop 22, a worker misclassification law that gig companies spent $225m to pass, only to have the law struck down because of a careless drafting error:

https://www.latimes.com/california/newsletter/2021-08-23/proposition-22-lyft-uber-decision-essential-california

But Dubal is skeptical that data-coops and transparency will achieve transformative change and build real worker power. Knowing how the algorithm works is useful, but it doesn’t mean you can do anything about it, not least because the platform owners can keep touching their knobs, twiddling the payout schedule on their rigged slot-machines.

Data co-ops start from the proposition that “data extraction is an inevitable form of labor for which workers should be remunerated.” It makes on-the-job surveillance acceptable, provided that workers are compensated for the spying. But co-ops aren’t unions, and they don’t have the power to bargain for a fair price for that data, and coops themselves lack the vast resources — “to store, clean, and understand” — data.

Co-ops are also badly situated to understand the true value of the data that is extracted from their members: “Workers cannot know whether the data collected will, at the population level, violate the civil rights of others or amplifies their own social oppression.”

Instead, Dubal wants an outright, nonwaivable prohibition on algorithmic wage discrimination. Just make it illegal. If firms cannot use gambling mechanisms to control worker behavior through variable pay systems, they will have to find ways to maintain flexible workforces while paying their workforce predictable wages under an employment model. If a firm cannot manage wages through digitally-determined variable pay systems, then the firm is less likely to employ algorithmic management.”

In other words, rather than using market mechanisms too constrain platform twiddling, Dubal just wants to make certain kinds of twiddling illegal. This is a growing trend in legal scholarship. For example, the economist Ramsi Woodcock has proposed a ban on surge pricing as a per se violation of Section 1 of the Sherman Act:

https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/print/volume-105-issue-4/the-efficient-queue-and-the-case-against-dynamic-pricing

Similarly, Dubal proposes that algorithmic wage discrimination violates another antitrust law: the Robinson-Patman Act, which “bans sellers from charging competing buyers different prices for the same commodity. Robinson-Patman enforcement was effectively halted under Reagan, kicking off a host of pathologies, like the rise of Walmart:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/27/walmarts-jackals/#cheater-sizes

I really liked Dubal’s legal reasoning and argument, and to it I would add a call to reinvigorate countertwiddling: reforming laws that get in the way of workers who want to reverse-engineer, spoof, and control the apps that currently control them. Adversarial interoperability (AKA competitive compatibility or comcom) is key tool for building worker power in an era of digital Taylorism:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

To see how that works, look to other jursidictions where workers have leapfrogged their European and American cousins, such as Indonesia, where gig workers and toolsmiths collaborate to make a whole suite of “tuyul apps,” which let them override the apps that gig companies expect them to use.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For example, ride-hailing companies won’t assign a train-station pickup to a driver unless they’re circling the station — which is incredibly dangerous during the congested moments after a train arrives. A tuyul app lets a driver park nearby and then spoof their phone’s GPS fix to the ridehailing company so that they appear to be right out front of the station.

In an ideal world, those workers would have a union, and be able to dictate the app’s functionality to their bosses. But workers shouldn’t have to wait for an ideal world: they don’t just need jam tomorrow — they need jam today. Tuyul apps, and apps like Para, which allow workers to extract more money under better working conditions, are a prelude to unionization and employer regulation, not a substitute for it.

Employers will not give workers one iota more power than they have to. Just look at the asymmetry between the regulation of union employees versus union busters. Under US law, employees of a union need to account for every single hour they work, every mile they drive, every location they visit, in public filings. Meanwhile, the union-busting industry — far larger and richer than unions — operate under a cloak of total secrecy, Workers aren’t even told which union busters their employers have hired — let alone get an accounting of how those union busters spend money, or how many of them are working undercover, pretending to be workers in order to sabotage the union.

Twiddling will only get an employer so far. Twiddling — like all “AI” — is based on analyzing the past to predict the future. The heuristics an algorithm creates to lure workers into their cars can’t account for rapid changes in the wider world, which is why companies who relied on “AI” scheduling apps (for example, to prevent their employees from logging enough hours to be entitled to benefits) were caught flatfooted by the Great Resignation.

Workers suddenly found themselves with bargaining power thanks to the departure of millions of workers — a mix of early retirees and workers who were killed or permanently disabled by covid — and they used that shortage to demand a larger share of the fruits of their labor. The outraged howls of the capital class at this development were telling: these companies are operated by the kinds of “capitalists” that MLK once identified, who want “socialism for the rich and rugged individualism for the poor.”

https://twitter.com/KaseyKlimes/status/821836823022354432/

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onsomenewsht · 6 months

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now playing: Moon

< track 6 || fine.

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic), María Leon x Reader (platonic), Barcelona Femení x Reader

》 words count: +6k

》 how can I be dead to you / when we're looking at the same moon?

The second leg of the Champions League’s quarter final between Barcelona and Arsenal is scheduled ten days after the first one.

Ten days in which you do nothing but think about this game. About welcoming your former club in your new home. About the tactics and the plays that didn’t work out quite as you wished, about what to do and not do to be better.

About Alexia.

Alexia’s a constant thought, and for the first time since leaving Barcelona, you allow that thought to invade every single corner of your mind.

I hope you found what you left for

The conversation you had on your favourite spot replies over and over again in your head. Lying in your bed as you relive it all late at night or surprised by a sentence in the middle of practice, it’s always with you in some way. You let her smile pop up out of nowhere and let one of your own grow on your lips without a reason. You indulge yourself in speaking about your relationship, about her, about how you felt with her and how you feel without her.

You try to forgive yourself now you know she doesn’t hate you.

To the point you permit yourself to send a text to Eli and Alba and invite them to watch the game in the family and friends’ section of the Emirates Stadium. They obviously declined, but you didn’t expect them to actually take in your offer - it was a symbolic gesture.

However, the entire Putellas family accepts your invite out for dinner that same night, even if Alexia insists on paying since they just kicked you out of the Champions League.

“You’re my guests, I’m gonna pay”

“Vale, I’m paying next time then”, she smiles.

Despite all the analysis and the tactics and the effort the entire Arsenal team and staff put into the game, despite the immense support of the fans who fill the stadium and cheer from the start to the final whistle, you lose.

Tecnichally, you tie. Claudia manages an incredible equaliser in the eightieth minute, crushing your hopes as the harsh law of football enforces the advantage Barça needs to get through the semifinals.

Your former teammates are reluctant to come to you after the game, but you accept gracefully their hands and words of encouragement. The tension none of you realise is there dissipates as soon as Alexia invites you into a group hug, surrounding you in Blaugrana’s colours briefly before you escape with Claudia’s jersey.

“As a reminder you could be playing for another Champions League if you stayed?”

“No, as a reminder to never piss you off again”

María is unusually soft in her teasing, letting a few jabs pass by and taking you in her arms when she senses that you need a place to let go of your disappointment without getting caught by the cameras.

“No te pongas triste, nos veremos pronto” (Don’t be too sad, you will see me again soon)

“Don’t you dare ask me to be a bridesmaid or something”

“¡A la mierda!”, the defender’s laugh might be able to fill the now half empty stadium, “Pero te necesito para elegir mi traje” (But I need you around to pick my outfit).

“You still don’t know what to wear?”

“Necesito buen gusto de verdad, no puedo permitir a mi futura esposa de ayudarme” (I need someone with a real fashion sense, it’s not like I can let my future wife help me).

“Frido?”, you try to ask.

“Está de su parte” (She’s on Ingrid side)

“Alexia?”

You and María exchange a knowing look. The Catalan is the most helpful person in most situations, but definitely not the right one for this job.

You bid your goodbye with a promise of a trip back to Barcelona before the end of the season, an away kit in your hand and a plan for dinner with your ex’s family.

The atmosphere in the changing room is tense, your teammates are upset about the result and not really in the mood to talk.

“Well, we lost to them and ten days later we tie”, you manage to draw their attention to you, “next time we face them we’re gonna win”

It’s stupid, it’s a risky attempt to break the ice in the room, but the different and loud reactions you get from all the girls tell you you’re all gonna be fine - even if you have to dodge a pair of boots to prove it.

I hope you found what you left for

That day, that loss, somehow and in some twisted way, gives you permission to feel everything you need to feel.

You let yourself be upset about getting kicked out of the Champions League by your former team, but you also let yourself celebrate every single win with your new club. You let yourself feel the bittersweet taste of a second place in the championship, but you lift the FA Cup with the same excitement you lifted every trophy in Barcelona. You let yourself miss your teammates-turned-friends when you go each on your own ways for the off-season, but you also invite them to spend time at your place that feels every day more like home.

Leah is delighted to see more than a faded shadow of who you are, this new version of you every day more present and every day clearer.

“You know, Keira used to talk you up so much back when you played together”, she says as you try to pack everything you think you need in an oversized luggage.

You will pay the extra tax, better than being unprepared.

“I don’t meet the expectation?”

“Definitely not”, she ducks just in time to avoid a pair of socks.

“She described you as this outgoing, always up for a joke person, and we got a moody footballer who barely spoke to us outside of the training centre”

The English captain is not wrong, the first weeks in London were very challenging both physically and mentally as you tried to adapt to a different style of play and a different view of yourself.

I hope you found what you left for

It took you some time, Leah and all the other girls’ patience, an overwhelming heart to heart talk with your ex girlfriend, and a devastating loss to reveal the first results of your slow healing process.

“Look at me now”

“Yeah, I don’t have to force myself in here anymore. You even cook for me willingly”

“Well–”, you’re not as fast as her when she throws the socks back at you.

Luggage filled and closed, silence spreads in the room when both of you want to address something but you don’t want to start a conversation that’s most likely to make the other uncomfortable.

“Last meal?”

“I’m leaving for a week to Barcelona, not to a war zone”

“In some sense–”

You ignore the blonde, yet go into the kitchen to cook something for the two of you. She offered to help you pack and drive you to the airport tomorrow, the least you can do is feed her one more time before letting her on her own devices.

Alexia’s comfort meal is what you go for. The ingredients are the only ones available in your fridge, and, honestly, the food looks comforting to you too this time.

“I don’t mind this version of you”

“You’re such a good friend, Williamson, have I ever told you?”

“Several times actually”

You don’t think you are the same person you were back in Barcelona, but you don’t think that is a bad thing either.

Maybe you’re not as outgoing as you used to be and you don’t find yourself involved in all the jokes your friends plan, but you’re letting yourself relax around the people you feel close to and you don’t hide your emotions anymore - sad nor happy ones.

Not a shell anymore, you can feel this new version of you growing out and taking down the wall you built around yourself one brick at a time.

You left to find yourself, even if you had no idea where to start your search.

You keep finding some pieces you thought were lost forever, others you never realise weren’t with you anymore. Some pieces you drop along the way, others you carefully say goodbye to to be buried deep down. Some new pieces you pick up yourself, and right now, you don’t care if they will stay with you forever or just till you need them.

You’re moving and, wherever you’re heading, you’re finding yourself on the way.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Leah’s reaction to your question caught you off guard, she almost choked on the food she’s devouring as a famished kid.

“Did you just fucking ask me to be your plus one at a wedding the day before you leave for said wedding?”

“What can I say, I’m known for my perfect timing”

You hand her a glass of water, knowing she’s most likely able to see right through you even if your eyes are fixed on the now empty plate.

“Are you scared to go to your friend’s wedding alone?”

“I need a buffer”

“You need a bulletproof jacket”, she really sees right through you.

“You need a new knee but I’m not here pointing it out, am I?”

It’s not like you’re scared to attend María and Ingrid’s wedding alone, and it’s not like you need a comfort blanket to hold on while surrounded by your friends and former teammates and people from your life back in Barcelona.

“Look, I’m flattered, you’re cute at everything but—”

“Ew, no, if you don’t shut up right now I’m going to break your good knee”

Leah knows that’s not the reason why you’re asking her to be your plus one, she just wants to poke at you and get the words out of you.

It takes her a couple of more quips and annoying comments to let you admit the real reason.

“Mapi let slip Alexia’s taking someone”

“Oh, sweet little Trotter, you’re asking me to make two time Ballon d’Or winner Alexia Putellas jealous–”, she doesn’t have the time to end her sentence as you sprint toward her and she has a feeling you’re not joking anymore about kicking her.

Leah ends up taking you to the airport the next day, insisting to drop you off as a kid on their first day of school. You have a feeling she doesn’t accept your invitation because the short notice doesn’t give her the proper amount of time to pick the right outfit, nothing more.

Another English girl picks you up when you land under the barely raised Barcelona’s sun, you almost feel like they take turns to babysit you.

“Keira, not to sound ungrateful, but I genuinely can’t think of anything worse than being your guest”

“Ouch! Do you wanna be left on the side of the road?”

“I’ll be fine in my fancy hotel room by myself, really”

“By yourself, uhm?”

The seatbelt is the only thing preventing you from hitting your head on the dashboard, despite your best effort. Of course they gossip about you. Whatever you tell Leah, you know it’s like you tell Keira too and vice versa. You even found yourself in the middle of one of they’re gossip sessions once, your life is their favourite topic lately.

They’re lucky you can admit you own them your sanity.

“I don’t know who she’s bringing”

“I didn’t ask”, you scoff as if the question isn’t on the tip of your tongue for weeks.

Well, you’re gonna find out in a couple of hours anyway.

Keira reluctantly drops you at the hotel you’re staying at, voicing once more you could have stayed with her or any of your other friends who she knows offered their home.

Your former teammates are way nicer with you now they’re once again Champions League winners.

Maybe it’s also because you stopped hide and actually made an effort to stay in touch.

Both can be true.

Once settled in your room and ready to leave, you’re so anxious one could think you’re the one getting married as you retouch your makeup every five minutes and keep fixing non-existent creases in your maroon strapless dress. It’s a beautiful tailor-made piece you never found the excuse to wear till now.

It’s a call from María herself that stops you from spiralling again about the shape of your eyebrows.

“If this is a getaway call, you must know I have no car nor intention of helping you”

“Idiota! Dónde estás?” (Where are you?), she asks with a well hidden note of anxiety in her voice.

“I’m not gonna be late and take the spotlight away from you, don’t worry”

“¿Puedes venir aquí por favor?” (Can you come here, please?)

“María, I’m gonna kill you”, you state, sliding your heels on with one hand and calling the reception to hail a taxi with the other.

You stay with her on the phone the whole ride to the venue, thankfully just ten minutes away since you planned this visit meticulously to avoid any “accident”.

You definitely didn’t plan this though.

As you storm into the room your friend tells you to find her, you should have seen it coming.

“If you need a getaway car or a pep talk, you know I’m not the right person”

“¿No tienes un discurso para convencerme de casarme?” (You don’t have a speech to convince me to get married?)

“You don’t need a speech”

“Ay, no, no lo necesito” (No, I don’t), she confirmed as you take in the grin and the attire she’s wearing, “Pero tu sí” (But you do).

María is relaxed and ready to walk down the aisle, saying goodbye to who you think is the makeup and hair team. You could have punched her if not out of respect for the incredible job they did. Just then you notice all the people in the room, Alexia in the corner with a sympathetic smile on her perfectly traced lips.

She’s stunning.

The long royal blue dress she’s wearing shows just the right amount of tanned skin, gold jewellery complimenting her features and making Alexia glow in a way you will never forget.

“I told her it was a stupid idea”

You must have been frozen in place for a second too much.

“Quiero que te levantes y digas cosas bonitas, Nena” (I want you to stand up at some point to tell some nice things)

“Just ask like a fucking normal person, María!”

“Lo hice, dijiste que no” (I did, you said no)

“So you made me think you wanted to ditch the whole thing?”

“Estás aquí temprano, ¿no? Tienes tiempo de escribir un buen discurso” (You’re here early, aren’t you? You have time to write something good)

The relaxing methods your new therapist drilled into you the past weeks better work, you’re really close to making your friend get married with a black eye as payback for the heart attack she got you.

“You’re so lucky I love you”, you sigh as the defender kisses your cheek and leads the way out of the room.

Apparently, you better hurry up as your outbursts pushed the schedule five minutes back what it’s supposed to - much to the wedding planner’s annoyance.

Alexia slows down her pace to walk next to you as you follow the indications given to you.

“Finally”

“What?”

“I can finally see you in this dress”, her smile is way too honest for the day you’re both about to go through, “Worth the wait”.

The ceremony is short and sweet. You’re not sure how María Pilar León manages to stay still for so long, but Ingrid’s hand intertwined with hers the entire time must be the main reason.

There’s some sort of light surrendering your friends. It may be the stunning yet intimate venue they choose or the Barcelona sun hitting at the perfect moment as they smile at each other. It may be the love you can feel radiating from the couple or the support and genuine excitement all the people in the room are sharing for the occasion.

Whatever it is, you’re happy to be part of it.

María and Ingrid exchange their vows with tender words and silent promises you know they’re making to each other. At some point you even have to hold on Frido’s arm, sit on your left side, as you start to cry big tears that are most definitely ruining your makeup.

Feeling Alexia’s eyes on you the entire time is not helping.

You have no idea that the wedding photographer is snapping a couple of pictures of you and the other guests in their emotional state, as per Mapi’s request. It surprises you way later when the Spanish defender posts the photo on her socials on your birthday - you block her for a month just to spite her.

When the sun sets and you manage to compose yourself a bit, the party starts and Ingrid takes it upon herself to make you lose your composure, handing you the first drink of the day.

You’re pretty sure the wedding planner hates you as he finds out you’re not only the reason why arranging seats and tables was so unnecessarily difficult, but he also has to brief you at the last minute about the little moments they planned and when you’re supposed to make your speech.

You know for sure he hates you when you tell him you actually still have to write it down so a delay in the schedule is needed. He leaves you with some paper, pen and cursed words.

It looks like everyone wants to talk to you and you find yourself the centre of attention way more times you’re comfortable with, even more than the newlyweds - much to their amusement.

A lifesaver comes in the form of Lucy Bronze, the buffer you didn’t know you needed, but you’re glad is around to help you deal with the Spanish excitement that surrounds you all over.

The English girl, who you now understand is the bonus member of the blonde squad that for some reason hunts you, is acting as your personal bodyguard since Keira is already not sober enough to be helpful.

“Please, tell me you wrote your speech”, Lucy’s eyeing your second refill of the day.

It’s an open bar, after all, you’re not letting María’s mother warm embrace and some girl you don’t remember the name of - but met maybe twice while celebrating a trophy’s win - messing with your mind more than what you’re already doing by yourself.

“I wrote a complaint and a draw of a monkey throwing shit”

“Classy, I can’t wait to see what you’ll go for”

“I told María fucking Engen-León not making me do a fucking speech”

Pages of scribbled words later, you’re back in Barcelona for your best friends’ wedding with no speech, no idea of what you’ll say and not sober enough to write down anything nice about a certain defender.

“Language, por favor”

You almost drop your glass when you feel Alexia’s hand on your back to get your attention and a teasing grin on her face. The desire to trace her lips with your finger is stronger now the first drinks are hitting.

“She can still scold you?”

“You have no idea the things she can still do to me, Bronze”, you mutter as you practically bottom down your drink.

“Can I steal you for a moment?”, she asks with a softer smile.

“I’m pretty sure the words were–”

Lucy doesn’t have time to finish her sentence as both you Alexia hit her without taking your eyes off each other. She gets the hint and leaves with a laugh.

“My date wants to say hi”

You’re pretty sure her words just triggered a malfunction in your already damaged brain. You could have been less shocked if she had asked to marry her right now and there.

“What?”

“Vien conmigo” (Just come with me)

Alexia is way too amused for your liking, but you follow her lead without real hesitation - leaving behind your empty glass and probably what’s left of your sanity.

As the two of you approach the table her family is sitting at, her hand finds a place on your back in a comforting way when you spot Eli, Alba and another tiny brunette you immediately know is about to make you cry.

The kid is too focused on her drawing to notice the two approaching, Alba nudges her, and the little girl retorts back with a hit. As soon as you are spotted, the colourful paper and the annoying woman are both forgotten.

Alexia’s little cousin, Zoe, comes at you at full speed and you’re able to welcome her into your arms fast enough just thanks to your professional athlete’s reflexes.

You hold on to her green dress as the girl jumps in your arms, too excited to see you again after more than a year to realise she’s speaking rapidly at you.

“En español, monita, por favor”, Alexia intercepts.

“¡Estás aquí!” (You’re here)

“Yeah, estoy aquí”

Alexia can’t hold back a laugh as you try to keep up with the little girl’s energy, who is set to tell you everything she has done since the last time she saw you. You were around when Zoe was barely old enough to walk properly.

Four years is a long time when you’re as young as the kid is.

The two of you were a pair who always managed to drive Alexia crazy and fill her heart with love at the same time.

“Ale me dijo que ya no vivis juntos, ahora tu juegas para Inglaterra” (Ale told me you don’t live together anymore, you play for England now)

“Juego para un equipo inglés” (I play for an english club)

“¡El equipo rojo! Pregunté Ale tu camiseta” (The red one! I asked Ale for your jersey)

“¡Ay, ¿de verdad?!” (Oh, did you really?), you notice Alexia’s blush immediately, keeping up the teasing thanks to the little girl.

You manage to calm Zoe enough to make her sit back. She’s mostly on your legs as the two of you keep talking and taking turns picking colours. All under the watchful sight of Alexia, who was instructed to sit down too by her cousin.

When the draw is finished and signed, you can feel the young mind running. The little frown in the middle of the forehead is a sight you’re way too familiar with.

“Qué está pensando, monita?” (What’s on your mind?)

“¿Estás de vuelta?” (You’re back in Barcelona?)

Alexia tries to divert the conversation, sensing her cousin is about to ask or say some things that are way too difficult to explain - despite being such easy questions. However, you smile and nod to let her know you can deal with it.

“He vuelto para Mapi’s boda y podemos celebrarlo juntos” (I’m back for Mapi’s wedding, so we can celebrate together)

“Lo sé, Ale me dijo que estarías aquí y quería saludarte” (I know, Ale told me you could be back and I wanted to say hi)

“Siento haber desaparecido, intentaré venir saludar más” (I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll try to come say hi more when I can)

“¿Prometes?” (You promise?), Zoe holds up a tiny finger, mimicking a gesture you taught her years ago.

You wrap your pinky around hers firmly, shaking it three times. It’s another promise you’re not going to break.

“Tienes que prometerlo a Ale también, ella te echa de menos” (You have to promise Ale too, she miss you)

“Lo sé” (I know)

The way Zoe is tracing coloured lines around her drawing is a tell that she still has a lot of questions for you, probably not satisfied enough with the answers she got from Alexia.

The pair of you spent a lot of time with the kid as you always encouraged the Catalan to spend as much time as possible with her extended family too, knowing it pained her to have a little cousin who looks up at her with such admiration but not actually seeing her much.

Also, babysitting Zoe was so fun for you and an excuse to tease Alexia in so many ways you took the chance on any possible occasion.

“¿Aún la amas?” (You still love her?)

The chair you’re sitting in is strong enough to keep you still even if the entire room is spiralling, and you’re pretty sure there’s a huge hole under your expensive heels. You caught Alexia’s panicked face out of the corner of your eye too.

It takes you a moment, but when you answer Zoe’s question you’re the most sure you have ever been in the past year or so.

“Siempre la amaré” (I’ll always love her)

Ironically enough, the wedding planner is the one saving you from yourself and the innocent questioning of a kid.

You stand in your designated spot with a microphone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other - blank if not for the doodles you let Zoe draw on it. You will play the part, props at all.

There may be no speech planned or intention to do one in the first place, but you know what to talk about when talking about love.

After a short introduction of who you are - even if almost everyone knows you for some reason or other - and a couple of football related jokes, you manage to buy yourself enough time to find a pair of soft eyes in the crowd.

You saw María and Ingrid growing a supportive and caring relationship, you know both of them enough to describe how wonderful their love is and even landing some good jokes on Mapi’s expenses.

You know how being in love feels like enough to get some people emotional, you know how being loved feels like enough to make some other cry.

“Finally, I would like to propose a toast”, you raise your glass and wink at the wedding planner - he may have had a heart attack during a questionable part of your speech, but you definitely saw him shed a tear or two at the end.

“To Ingrid, who is one of the thoughtful human beings I have the honour to look up to in my life. You don’t even need words to let people understand your love for them, it’s the most important thing you taught us and the one I’ll try the most to remember when my mind and my mouth will fighting against each other”

The Norwegian woman looks at you with a warm smile as she raises her own glass, reaching for her wife’s hand.

“To María, who is one of the most annoying human beings I have the privilege to call family. You taught us that everyone deserves to be respected and taken care of, that you don’t even need to know someone to make them feel welcome. I’ll never forget you proved it to me the very first day we met, and I’ll keep trying to grant myself the same care you unconditionally show me”

Your friend is crying as you smile at her, trying to let her understand how much you appreciate everything she did and does for you, how much you appreciate her firm support despite her opinion on your choices.

“To everyone here, who is witnessing a celebration of love that’s never going to fade as we’ll keep it alive”

Alexia’s eyes on you make you believe your own words more than anything else.

As the night progresses, most of the guests are gone. The ones still standing are the closest to the couple and the ones who managed to take the most advantage of the open bar.

You’re obviously among those.

The break from dancing you treat yourself with is filled with rapid words from Ona, Lucy, Aitana and Keira, all engaged in a conversation about your performance at Arsenal and how you can do better next season.

It’s not really talk shop as they’re making fun of you and the unfortunate episode that saw you tripping on the ball while attempting a quite impressive shot outside the box.

You found your footing and the back of the net shortly after, so their amusing is quite frankly unnecessary if you can say yourself.

“Mary let that ball pass ‘cause she was laughing so much, that’s all”

“Fuck you, Bronze!”

“She’s right, I saved the video and I watch it every time I miss you”

“You’re worse than Mapi”, you don’t dignify Keira with an answer as you leave the group to refill your drink.

“Lo siento en mi corazón cuando hablas de mi” (I can feel in my heart when you’re talking about me)

Out of nowhere, María appears in front of you, and as the magician she apparently is tonight, it makes your glass disappear, all while dragging you toward the bubble of loud dancing guests.

You could be mad at her if not for the genuine laughs that are surrounding you, making you miss those girls but convincing you to enjoy this occasion even more.

“Gracias por hoy, Nena” (Thank you for today)

“Estoy tan feliz por ti” (I’m so happy for you)

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the beautiful day you’re having or the fact your best friends just got married and you couldn’t be happier for them, but you sense this is an emotional moment for the two of you.

The Spaniard holds you in her arms firmly, whispering barely loud enough for you to hear, “I want you to be happy too”

“I’m getting there”

The moment ends when the soft smiles on both your faces turn into grins and then open laughs as you start getting loose around all your friends.

You accept Jana’s hand gracefully as she drags you between her and Claudia, the two dancing as no one is watching and taking you down in a mindless movement of arms and hair.

“Still no rhythm at all”

You’re sure you’re drunk enough to imagine Alexia’s hands on your waist as she gets closer to make fun of you.

To be fair, out of the two of you, the Catalan is the one with the worst moves. She is just lucky to be incredibly sexy as she dances.

“You were sober enough to remember that night out after our first Champions League”

“¡Ajá, cállate! Someone tripped me”

“Yeah, your own feet”

The music is loud and the bodies around move in a way that you have to stay basically pressed on her to keep the teasing conversation going.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you grip her arm to let a carefree laugh out.

“You were sober enough to kiss me that same night, what does that say about you?”

“That I have the worst timing ever!”

You mean nothing but the truth, Alexia knows and she keeps you close despite your friends trying to involve you in a group dance - the two of you too wrapped in your own bubble to notice.

Keira does though and she openly calls you out on your behaviour, reminding you this may not be the best time or place to dance with your ex girlfriend as this is your own wedding.

The party slows down late in the evening, the last guests bidding their goodbyes and congratulating the happy couple once again.

You’re next to María as she hugs Alba - Eli and Zoe declared the night over a while ago. The defender’s hair is messed up, and a thin sheet of sweat from the dancing and the emotion of the day is covering her forehead. She never looked better.

“When are you leaving?”, the younger girl asks when is your turn to hug her.

“I’ll stay for a couple of days, I planned the off-season under the Italian sun”

“¡Vale!, you can come at dinner one of those”

“I’ll see what I can do”, you smile as you lightly push Alba and her knowing smirk away.

When you admit the day is officially over for you too, María and Ingrid both wrap you in a tight embrace to shower you with kisses and rapid words of gratitude in three different languages you’re way too tired to even try to understand.

At least you can tell they’re happy about your speech.

“I can take you to your hotel”

“You keep offering me rides, you sure you’re not thinking of a career change?”

“I don’t see myself getting a taxi license anytime soon”, Alexia’s attempt at a serious tone is making you giggle way too much for such a simple joke.

The walk toward her car is a silent one and it doesn’t turn uncomfortable when you get cosy in the passenger seat, taking your heels off with a sigh of relief.

The Catalan smiles as she remembers you tend to drop your manners when happily exhausted.

You look at her changing her shoes, a pair of sneakers always in the car for a safe ride, and you keep your eyes on her as she connects her phone to select a playlist.

It’s a ten minute ride at best, but she has not asked where you’re staying, and you’re too curious to find out what she’s planning to point it out.

You’re content and tired enough to admit every minute more you get to spend with Alexia is a win in your book.

She’s the one breaking the silence, turning the volume down a bit and keeping her gaze on the street even if the traffic light in front of you is glowing her features bright red.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with Zoe”

“I was happy to see her again, she’s getting so tall”

“Yeah”

“Lo siento” (I’m sorry)

Leaving Barcelona meant leaving Alexia, but it was your choice.

And it was your choice to leave every single one who reminds you of her too. Ignoring your friends and finding excuses to not face the consequences of your disappearing. Avoiding Eli and Alba’s calls, too ashamed of the pain you inflicted on the most important person in their life.

It was all your choice.

“We broke up, I didn’t expect you to keep in touch with my family”

“You didn’t expect me to break up with you in the first place”

Alexia turns to look at you for the first time since the ride started, no one behind you calling out to move as the light turns from red to green to red again.

“I can be held accountable for my own choices, Alexia”, you nod at her as she restarts the car to a still unknown destination.

“I was honest with Zoe”

“Lo sé”

“Tú eres mi corazón, te amaré por siempre” (You’re my heart, I will always love you)

“Lo sé”

A full moon high in the dark sky, the view from your windows is getting unfamiliar, but the woman next to you seems to know exactly where she’s going. The pace she’s keeping is slow enough to calm your nerves but fast enough to keep you awake.

There are so many things you want to say, so many useless apologies and unnecessary confessions on the tip of your tongue.

It could be so much easier if she’d hate you.

“I knew you would leave”

“What?”

“I knew you would leave, I knew you found the ring”

Her words manage to steal the breath from your lungs and stop the rhythm of your heart, you go from feeling nothing to everything in a split second. The music is suddenly too loud, the fancy car is crushing on you, and your own body is failing to respond to your commands.

Alexia immediately notices your distress, stopping on the side of the road and lowering your window to let the fresh night air hit your face. She wants to touch you, to ground you as she learned to do, but she’s aware she may make things worse.

You reach for her hand, holding on to her as a lifeline and she does everything she needs to to take you back.

“Sorry, I didn’t see that coming”, you say when you’re ready to think properly again, your attempt to joke landing just because Alexia knows you well enough to understand what you need right now.

“Yo–”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“¿Por qué no lo hiciste tú?” (Why didn’t you?)

The million dollar question, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you let her know? Why didn’t you just talk with her about your feelings and your fears?

You pay your therapist enough to answer those questions for you.

“I don’t think it could have changed anything”

“You couldn’t know”

“And I’ll never, it’s all done now”

You need her to hate you, you need her to hate you and not want to do anything with you ever again.

You need her to leave you.

Not like you left Barcelona, you need her to leave you behind and move on. It’d be so much easier.

Instead, you’re both moving on and you both are still moving in the same direction.

“You would have said sí”, it’s not a question.

“Of course”

You realise you’re still holding on to her just when the Catalan squeezes your hand three times, keeping you grounded and keeping herself together. Your confirmation is both unnecessary and needed, hurting and comforting.

“I want you to love yourself as much as I do”

“I’m trying”

It’s a whisper, it’s a confession you’re not sure you’re ready to hear yourself.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready”

“Alexia, no–”

“Sí”, she drops your hand just to firmly hold your face, guiding your gaze and your tears filled eyes on hers, “I’ll be here when you’re ready, here in Barcelona or wherever here will mean for us”

“I can’t ask you that”

“You’re not asking”

Tears are falling freely now, her thumb tracing your flushed cheeks and your fists holding desperately on her dress. The position you both are in is uncomfortable, the air from the open window tickles your neck, and Alexia’s honesty is crushing your heart, but you never felt better.

“I know you could do whatever I ask, stay in Barcelona or marry me. I need you to know I could do whatever you ask too”

“Then we’re stuck”

“No, we’re both moving”

“You wanna see where we end up?”

“Wherever it will be, we’ll find each other”

replay to start from track 1 >

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #mapi leon x reader #leah williamson x reader #barcelona femini x reader #now playing universe #woso #my wo(rd)so #here we go again #last track for this one #what a journey #thank you all #as always if you see a mistake #no you dont

413 notes · View notes

chlerc · 24 days

Text

first-time dad ; pablo gavi

— summary; he’s only ever on Instagram to post about his family and occasionally his footballing career but witnessing the first-time dad grow over time is way more sentimental and meaningful.

pairing — pablo gavi x childhood-best-friend!f. reader

social media au

content — you barely see gavi as a man of many words but when it comes to his sons and the love of his life, he gets sentimental and sappy real fast

NAVIGATION + author’s note: my head’s been into chinese drama too much i forgot about this draft rotting.

Liked by pablogavi, fcbarcelona and 3,493,107 others

ynusername baby gavira, august 2023 🤍

View all 6,826 comments

pablogavi eres la mejor mamá que podría pedir (you’re the best mom he could ever ask for)

ynusername @pablogavi te amo mucho (i love you so much)

pedri eres la mejor mamá que podría pedir 👏(congratulations both of you)

ynusername @pedri gracias, te amo 🤍 (thank you, love you)

fcbarcelona new culer 🥹

ynusername @fcbarcelona siiiii

alejandrobalde felicidades mi hermano y la señora 👏👏 (congrats my bro and the missus)

ynusername @alejandrobalde gracias tío alejandro 🤍 (thanks uncle alejandro)

forblaugrana Project Gavi 🔜🔜

blaugrana.daily our gavi is all grown up

gavi.fanpage EXCITED!!!

joaofelix79 no puedo esperar para conocer al bebé gavi (can’t wait to meet baby gavi)

ynusername @joaofelix79 estoy seguro de que él también está ansioso por conocerte, tío Félix! (i’m sure he can’t wait to meet you too uncle félix!)

Liked by pablogavi, pedri and 2,917,193 others

ynusername el 5 de agosto de 2023 comenzó nuestro proyecto @pablogavi Jr! bienvenido mi amor 🤍 (on 5 august 2023, our project gavi junior has begun! welcome my love)

View all 5,917 comments

pablogavi lo mejor que podría pedir en mi cumpleaños, gracias, la mejor esposa que podría pedir. (the best thing i could ever ask for on my birthday, thanks you, the best wife i could ever ask for.)

ynusername @pablogavi los amo mucho a los dos 😘 (i love you two so much)

pedri mismo cumpleaños que su papá 🥹 (same birthday as his dad)

pablogavi @pedri siii, el mejor regalo de todos los tiempos 😆 (yes, the best present ever)

blaugrana.page the ACTUAL project gavi with the same birthday

gavi.jpg i love this little family so much, can’t wait to watch him grow up!

fcbarcelona Welcome culer!!! 👏👏

ynusername @fcbarcelona una camiseta con su nombre? (a jersey with his name on it?)

fcbarcelona @ynusername ya te lo envié por correo 😉 (already mailed to you)

joaofelix79 por fin está aquí! (he’s finally here)

ynusername @joaofelix79 si tio félix, ven pronto! (yes uncle félix, come over soon!)

Liked by ynusername, joaofelix79 and 6,826,136 others

pablogavi oye Mateo ¿cómo ha pasado ya un mes? recuerdo que cuando tu mamá y yo nos enteramos de ti por primera vez, estábamos bastante conmocionados y perdidos, pero aún así felices. tú y tu mamá sois lo mejor que me ha pasado, ¿sabes? por favor, no crezcas tan rápido todavía. todavía tengo mucho que aprender como padre y sobre lo que tienes que enseñarme. gracias por darme la oportunidad Mateo ❤️ además, mamá tomó estas fotos. (hey Mateo, how has it already been a month? i remember when your mama and i first found out about you, we were quite shocked and lost but nonetheless happy. you and your mama are the best thing that ever happened to me you know? please don't grow up just so fast yet, i still have lots of learning to do as a father that you have to teach me about. thanks for giving me the chance, Mateo. also, mama took these photos)

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ynusername eres el mejor papá que podría pedir, mi pájaro enojado 🤍 (you’re the best dad he could ever ask for, my angry bird)

pablogavi @ynusername y eres la mejor mamá que existe (and you’re the best mama out there)

joaofelix79 Mateo es lo mejor que me ha pasado (Mateo is the best thing that ever happened)

ynusername @joaofelix79 seguro que Mateo también te quiere mucho tío Félix! (i’m sure Mateo loves you lots too uncle Félix!)

pablogavi @joaofelix79 ¿no soy lo mejor que te ha pasado? (i’m not the best thing that ever happened to you?)

joaofelix79 @pablogavi tú y tu hijo supongo 🙄 (you and your son i guess)

blaugranaplanet Mateo is growing up so fast!

livelaughlovebarca MATEO’S LITTLE ONESIES 🥹 and the bear pj’s!!!

saraguendogan Kais newest playmate soon!

ynusername @saraguendogan can’t wait 🤍

Liked by marcguiu9, _ferminlopez and 3,965,022 others

pablogavi Otra victoria en casa antes de volver a la Champions el miércoles, os esperamos a todos. força barça! (another victory at home before returning to the Champions League on Wednesday, see you all there. force barça!)

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_ferminlopez Mi hermano ❤️ (my brother)

fcbarcelona Jugón 👏 (game on)

ynusername apoyando a papá (rooting for papa)

pablogavi @ynusername te amo mi ángel (i love you my angel)

barca4life Best midfielder out there

for.blaugrana Masterclass performance

gavi.daily only the best

Liked by ynusername, pedri and 6,826,197 others

pablogavi hola Mateo, no puedo creer que ya estés cumpliendo seis meses. aprendo un poco más cada día siendo tu padre y estoy muy contento de que tú y tu mamá estén aquí conmigo. mamá y yo te amamos desde la luna y desde atrás, ¡y tus tíos también! tú y tu mamá me hicieron el hombre más orgulloso, estoy muy contento y orgulloso de llamarlos míos y nuestra pequeña familia. como siempre, no crezcas tan rápido Mateo, todavía tengo mucho que aprender. mamá volvió a tomar estas fotos...❤️ (hey Mateo, i can't believe you're already turning six months old. i learn a little more everyday being your father and i'm so glad you and your mama are here with me. me and mama loves you from the moon and back, so does your uncles! you and your mama made me the proudest man, i'm so glad and proud to call you two mine and our little family. as usual, don't grow up so fast Mateo i still have lots to learn. mama took these photos again...)

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ynusername Mateo seis meses! (Mateo six months!)

pablogavi @ynusername siiiiii mi amor (yes my love)

pedri mi pequeño está creciendo… (my little boy is growing up…)

pablogavi @pedri y te estás haciendo viejo (and you’re growing old)

mikkykiemeney Mateooo, so cuteeee!!!

ynusername @mikkykiemeney i know righttt, waiting to meet Miles!

gavi.family.fans Mateo is growing up so quickly!

forblaugrana Project Gavi coming along nicely

pablogavi.6 THE CUTEST!!!

lamineyamal ese nene es un tesorito, me lo comería! 😮😮 (you’re such a cutie pie, i could eat you up!)

pablogavi @lamineyamal por favor deja a mi hijo en paz 🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️ (please leave my son alone)

joaofelix79 ¡mi Mateo favorito! (my favourite Mateo!)

pablogavi @joaofelix79 hay otro Mateo en tu vida? (there’s other Mateo’s in your life?)

Liked by ynusername, joaofelix79 and 4,615,179 others

pablogavi hola mi pequeño Mateo! no puedo creer que haya pasado un año desde que naciste. solía pensar que no valía la pena celebrar mi cumpleaños hasta que llegaste tú. me alegro mucho de haber podido compartir mi fecha de nacimiento contigo y no hay nadie más a quien agradecer más que a tu mamá. gracias por hacer esto posible mi amor, @ynusername. Ustedes dos son para siempre lo mejor que me ha pasado. ¡por muchas más celebraciones de cumpleaños compartidas contigo, hombrecito! el amor de mi vida y mi Mateo, ustedes hicieron esto posible y ustedes dos siguen siendo el mejor regalo de cumpleaños. gracias por darme la oportunidad de ser tu papá Mateo, gracias por darme una oportunidad mi amor.❤️ (hey my little Mateo! i can't believe it's been a year since you were born. i used to think my birthday's weren't worth celebrating until you came along. i'm so glad i got to share my birth date with you and there's no one else to thank more than your mama. thanks for making this possible my love, @ynusername. you two are forever the best thing that happened to me. to many more shared birthday celebrations with you little man! the love of my life and my Mateo, you made this possible and you two are still the best birthday present ever. thanks for giving me the opportunity to be your dad Mateo, thanks for giving me a chance my love.)

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ynusername feliz cumpleaños al hombre que me hizo la mujer que soy y feliz cumpleaños al pequeño Mateo que me hizo la mamá que soy hoy 🤍 (happy birthday to the man who made me the woman i am and happy birthday to little Mateo who made me the mama i am today)

pablogavi @ynusername te amo muchoooo, más de lo que jamás imaginas (i love you so much, more than you ever know)

pedri feliz cumpleaños a mi pequeño Mateo, tu tío favorito es el que más te quiere! 🎂🎉 (happy birthday to my little Mateo, your favourite uncle loves you the most!)

joaofelix79 oh nooo, ¿por qué mi hombrecito está creciendo tan rápido? feliz cumpleaños mi pequeño Mateo el tio te quiere mucho (oh nooo, why is my little man growing up so quickly. happy birthday my little Mateo, uncle loves you very much)

alejandrobalde Feliz cumpleaños pequeño Mateo, espero verte en el entrenamiento más! 💪 (happy birthday little Mateo, hope to see you at training more!)

frenkiedejong happy birthday little Mateo!

lamineyamal el pequeño Mateo está creciendo bien, feliz cumpleaños pequeño! (little Mateo is growing up well, happy birthday little one!)

hctorforrt_ feliz cumpleaños pequeño Mateo, el tío Marc y yo estamos abiertos a más sesiones de niñera! 🎉 (happy birthday little Mateo, uncle Marc and I are open to more babysitting sessions!)

blaugrana Everyone calls him ‘Little Mateo’ 🥹

blaugranaplanet the cutest little Mateo!

Liked by ynusername, pablogavi and 1,800,005 others

mateogavi Feliz cumpleaños para mi! mamá y papá dijeron que este pastel era mío, así que jugué con él! el osito es muy lindo, ¿no crees que se parece a mi pijama? estoy tan feliz de haber recibido tantos juguetes nuevos de mis tíos! feliz cumpleaños a mi papá también 🧸🤍 (happy birthday to me! mama and papa said this cake was mine so i played with it! the bear is so cute, don't you think it looks like my pyjamas? i'm so happy i got so many new toys from my uncles! happy birthday to my papa too)

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pedri feliz cumpleaños pequeño Mateo, espero que te guste tu nuevo juguete! (happy birthday little Mateo, hope you like your new toy!)

mateogavi @pedri lo hice, muchas gracias tío Pedri 🐻 (i did! thank you so much uncle Pedri)

joafelix79 feliz cumpleaños pequeño Mateo, ten cuidado en el auto nuevo te tengo bien? 🏎🏎 (happy birthday little Mateo, be careful in the new car i got you okay?)

mateogavi @joaofelix79 tendré mucho cuidado tío Félix y cuando vuelvas te mostraré mis habilidades! (i will be super careful uncle Félix and when you come again, i’ll show you my skills!)

alejandrobalde sigue entrenando duro con el fútbol que te tengo pequeño Mateo! ⚽️ (keep training hard with the football i got you little Mateo!)

mateogavi @alejandrobalde señor si señor tio Alejandro! (sir yes sir uncle Alejandro!)

hctorforrt_ pequeño Mateo, espero que te guste la pista de carreras que te tengo el tío Marc y yo! (little Mateo, hope you like the race track uncle Marc and I got you!)

mateogavi @hctforrt_ me encanta, muchas gracias tio Marc y Hector! (i love it, thank you so much uncle Marc and Hector!)

marcguiu9 tío Marc te quiero mucho pequeño Mateo, feliz cumpleaños ☺️ (uncle Marc loves you so much little Mateo, happy birthday)

mateogavi @marcguiu9 Yo también te quiero mucho tío Marc!! (i love you so much too uncle Marc)

_ferminlopez creciendo bien pequeño Mateo, ¿te gusta el gran oso de peluche que te tengo? (growing up well little Mateo, do you like the big teddy bear i got you?)

mateogavi @_ferminlopez si tio Fermín! He estado durmiendo con él, mamá lo pone a mi lado por la noche. (yes uncle Fermín! i've been sleeping with it, mama puts it beside me at night)

blaugrana.daily Happy Birthday Mateo!!!

pablogavi.family Can’t believe you’re one already, happy birthday Mateo!

Liked by pablogavi, joaofelix79 and 1,928,108 others

ynusername hola mi pequeño, no puedo creer que ya estés cumpliendo un año. te amo a ti y a tu papá más de lo que jamás imaginarás, no lo olvides. Mateo, gracias por guiarme y enseñarme cuando estaba perdida como mamá primeriza. mi pájaro enojado, gracias por amarme y darnos una oportunidad. ustedes dos son las mejores cosas que me han pasado. gracias por darme la oportunidad de ser tu mamá Mateo, y gracias por elegirme mi pájaro enojado. feliz cumpleaños a los dos chicos que me hacen la mujer más orgullosa del mundo. los amo mis amores 🤍 (hey my little man, can't believe you're turning one already. i love you and your papa more than you'll ever know, don't forget that. Mateo, thanks for guiding me and teaching me when i was lost as a first time mama. my angry bird, thanks for loving me and giving us a chance. you two are the best things that ever happened to me. thanks for giving me the opportunity to be your mama Mateo, and thanks for choosing me my angry bird. happy birthday to the two boys that make me the proudest woman alive. love you my loves.)

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pablogavi Siempre juntos, no lo haría de otra manera. Estoy muy agradecida de que sois tú y Mateo. (always together, i wouldn’t have it any other way. i’m so grateful it’s you and Mateo.)

pedri ¿crees que te ves lindo en la tercera foto, eh? (you think you look cute in the third picture eh?)

pablogavi @pedri Bastante lindo obviamente 😒(quite cute obviously)

joaofelix79 la tercera foto es una broma 🤣🤣🤣 (third picture is a joke)

lamineyamal @joaofelix79 lo juro, la foto más divertida que he visto en mi vida. 😂😂 (i swear, funniest picture i’ve ever seen)

aurorapaezg feliz cumpleaños mi guapo 🤍 (happy birthday my handsomes.)

ynusername @aurorapaezg muchas gracias mi otra mitad 🥹 (thank you so much my other half.)

barcawaglife the cutest family!!!

forblaugrana Happy birthday gavira’s!

fcbarcelona Feliz cumpleaños nuestros guerreros 🥳🙌 (happy birthday our warriors!)

nikefootball Happy Birthday our star boy ⭐️

Liked by pablogavi, ynusername and 1,928,916 others

mateogavi te gustan mis conjuntos? mamá dice que me veo mejor que papá 🤫 (do you like my outfits? mama says i look better than papa.)

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joaofelix79 definitivamente te ves mejor que papá 🤣🤣 (you definitely look better than papa.)

lamineyamal cocinado por su propio hijo (cooked by his own son.)

pablogavi @lamineyamal callarse (shut up.)

mikkykiemeney the matching samba’s 🥹

ynusername @mikkykiemeney stop i LOVE it so much, all of us have one 🥹

aurorapaezg ooh luciendo mucho mejor que papá (ooh looking so much better than papa.)

pablo_gavi_fp MATCHING SAMBA’S ADORABLE!!!

pa6los cutest family ever, can’t change my mind

joselumato niño guapo 😁 (handsome kid)

Liked by pablogavi, joaofelix79 and 2,826,197 others

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mateogavi mamá y papá dicen que no pueden creer que cumpla dos años. Pero si yo voy a cumplir dos años, ¡entonces mi papá también se hará mayor! ¡feliz cumpleaños para mí! 🐻 (mama and papa says they can't believe i'm turning two. but if i'm turning two, then my papa's getting older too! happy birthday to me!)

View all 2,916 comments

joaofelix79 feliz cumpleaños a mi chico favorito! 🐻 (happy birthday to my favourite boy!)

mikkykiemeney happy birthday to Miles’ first ever friend 🥹

katrinefogtfriis happy birthday to the most precious and handsome little boy i’ve ever met.

pablogavi Feliz cumpleaños a mi chico favorito, siempre agradecido de tenerte y permitirme la oportunidad de ser tu papá. te amo más de lo que jamás sabrás. (happy birthday to my favourite boy, always grateful to have you and allowing me the chance to be your papa. i love you more than you'll ever know.)

_rl9 Happy birthday little Mateo!

_ferminlopez Feliz cumpleaños pequeño Mateo, no puedo creer que ya cumplas dos años. Eres el chico más agradable que he conocido, mi tío te quiere mucho. 🐻 (happy birthday little Mateo, i can't believe you're turning two already. you're the nicest boy i've ever met, uncle loves you so much.)

blaugrana.daily Happy Birthday to little Mateo 🎂

ynusername lo mejor que me ha pasado 🥹🤍 (the best thing that has ever happened to me)

444daily little Mateo is growing up so fast

Liked by pablogavi, aurorapaezg and 3,185,110 others

ynusername hoy es un día especial, no sólo celebramos el cumpleaños del pequeño Mateo y Gavi. Le damos la bienvenida al mundo a Guille. No puedo creer que los 3 chicos bajo el mismo techo compartan el mismo cumpleaños, pero bueno, al menos hago 3 cumpleaños a la vez. Siempre agradecido por mis 2 hijos y su fuerte papá, que siempre ha estado ahí para mí a pesar de los altibajos de su carrera. feliz cumpleaños pequeño Mateo y mi pajarito enojado Pablo, bienvenido al mundo pequeño Guille. No puedo esperar para celebrar los 3 cumpleaños juntos. 🤍 (today's a special day, we not only celebrate little Mateo and Gavi's birthday. we welcome Guille to the world. i can't believe the 3 boys under the same roof are sharing the same birthday but hey at least i throw 3 birthday's at once. always grateful and thankful for my 2 boys and their strong papa who's always been there for me despite his ups and downs in his career too. happy birthday little Mateo and my angry bird Pablo, welcome to the world little Guille. can't wait to celebrate all 3 birthday's together.)

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pablogavi Los amo a los tres más que al universo, más de lo que jamás merecen. gracias por hacerme el hombre que soy, por hacerme papá, por el pequeño Mateo y Guille dándome la oportunidad de ser su papá. (i love all three of you greater than the universe, more than you all ever deserve. thanks for making me the man i am, for making me a papa, for little Mateo and Guille giving me the chance to be their papa.)

joaofelix79 uni más para mí para amar!!! (one more for me to love!)

lamineyamal mismo nombre ah @guillefc.70

guillefc.70 @lamineyamal si si, no puedo creer que tenga el mismo nombre que una estrella. (yes yes, can’t believe i got the same name as a star.)

mikkykiemeney another friend for miles, you and gavi make the cutest babies 😵

ynusername @mikkykiemeney he’s got a secret 🤫🤫🤫

_ferminlopez jugadores como su papá (ballers like their papa.)

forblaugrana Happy Birthday to the Gavira family, welcome Guille. 🎉🎉🎉

433 Good day for the Gavira’s

barcelona.daily Happy Birthday little Mateo and Gavi. welcome Guille!

pedri Gavi lo cronometró bien, eh? (gavi timed it right, eh?)

pablogavi @pedri si soy bueno en todo ☺️ (yeah i’m good at everything)

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ynusername bebe gavira número dos, el 5 de agosto siempre será un día especial para mí. del 2004 al 2022 y ahora 2024. Te quiero pequeño Guille, bienvenido a casa 🤍 (baby gavira number two, 5th august will always be a special day for me. from 2004 to 2022 and now 2024. i love you little Guille, welcome home.)

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pablogavi No puedo creer que esté presenciando esto por segunda vez. honrado. (can't believe i'm witnessing this for the second time. honoured.)

joaofelix79 mi hermano tiene un timing impecable eh, el pequeño Guille ya tiene buena pinta (my brother has impeccable timing eh, little Guille looking good already)

aurorapaezg mis sobrinos son los mas lindos (my nephews are the cutest)

fcbarcelona Welcome new culer! ✨

barcawags highschool lovers are the cutest

katerinefogtfriis little Guille is looking so adorable 🥹

barca4barca THE CUTESTTTT OMG!!!!!

_ferminlopez que descanses pequeño Guille y la mamá de Mateo, cuídate mucho! (rest well little Guille and Mateo's mama, take good care of yourself!)

ynusername @_ferminlopez muchas gracias fer, eres el mejor 🤍 (thanks a lot fer, you’re the best.)

pedri cuidate mucho mi hermanita descansa bien (take care of yourself too my little sister, rest well.)

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pablogavi parece que el pequeño Mateo se está tomando bien su nuevo trabajo como hermano mayor. Debe estar muy cansado de jugar con el pequeño Guille y de cuidar a su mamá cuando yo no estoy en casa. mi pequeño Mateo está creciendo demasiado rápido y el pequeño Guille también está creciendo sano. (looks like little Mateo is taking his new job as an older brother well. he must be really tired playing with little Guille and looking after his mama when i'm not home. my little Mateo is growing up too fast and so is little Guille is growing up healthily too.)

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ynusername Concéntrate en tu pelota y recuperación. el pequeño Mateo estará en casa para cuidarme! (focus on your balling and recovery. little Mateo will be home to look after me!)

pablogavi @ynusername si señora, lo que usted diga. (yes ma’am, whatever you say.)

pedri se parece a su papá, un caballero (takes after his papa, a gentleman)

_ferminlopez sus padres le enseñaron bien, el tío más orgulloso aquí mismo (taught well by his parents, proudest uncle right here.)

joaofelix79 Necesito recompensar a mi pequeño Mateo la próxima vez que visite Barcelona nuevamente, hay muchos regalos preparados para los pequeños Guille y Mateo. (i need to reward my little Mateo the next time i visit Barcelona again, lots of presents prepared for little Guille and Mateo.)

sophangls if you observe carefully, gavi’s only on instagram to post about his family and occasionally football 😭

dani.carvajal.2 un hombre de sabias palabras, un verdadero caballero (a man of wise words, a true gentleman.)

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tarjapearce · 8 months

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So uh

Has Mama ever been shamed for her body?

Oh Definitely. :(

You see, growing in a Latino household is growing up bullied for sure, and such insecurities are turned into a nickname. Mama wasn't the exception tho.

Mama loved eating when she was a kid, she was pretty active. And then puberty hit, things changed but not precisely for the good.

Aunts and cousins always gave the snide and backhanded comments whenever she was found eating.

"Ay no, mija, ya deja de comer! que ahí luego vas a andar pidiendo ropa nueva." (Stop eating, You'll be asking for new clothes later)

Or the typical " Your body would look so good if you'd lose some of that weight." And the last but not least "You're getting bigger each time I see you!" In every family reunion.

This made Mama to have a bad relationship with food. And even if she lost weight, Mama still used oversized things.

Although Jessica helped to get some of her confidence back, Mama still struggled with food. Until, Miguel came into her life.

That party where they met and she ate Miguel's quesabirrias? It was the first time in months she ate something packed with flavor instead of boiled and steamed things.

And when Miguel took a notice of her crying cause she felt guilty for eating too much, this got him concerned. So, as a good back then boyfriend, he took a day to pamper her with things she had enjoyed in their previous dates.

And when Mama refused to finish her plate cause it would be too much, Miguel would only kiss her breathless while taking a good feel of her body.

"You think a couple of pounds are an issue for me?" He'd mumble while cornering her against the wall, "Tengo más de donde agarrar para cuando te saque esas inseguridades de la mente a punta de cogidas, preciosa" (More for me to grab when I fuck those insecurities outta your mind.)

Even to this day, Miguel still makes sure that Mama enjoys eating.

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #soccer family ⚽🕷️#mama o'hara #tw food issues #miguel ohara fluff #miguel o'hara imagine #Boyfriend Miguel #pre Soccer Family #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

sick little games * op81

neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)

(prev)

you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.

oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.

on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.

you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.

you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”

“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”

“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”

he blinks at you. “too soon.”

“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”

you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.

oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”

“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”

he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”

you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”

“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”

you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.

a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”

“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”

“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”

oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”

“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”

you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.

and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?

“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”

“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”

“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”

he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”

“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”

“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.

“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”

“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”

you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.

he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”

“oscar…”

insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”

you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @happy-nico @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @namgification @c-losur3

taglist: @lipringlrh @mess-is-my-aesthetic @vicurious28 @imsiriuslyreal @fionaschicken @pastryboyyy @spookystitchery @topgunmav1df1 @nixisracing @honethatty12 @bloodyymaryyy

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke 6futs

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ferrstappen · 5 months

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mónaco l Carlos Sainz

(a/n): this is a very short piece based on one of my favorite songs of all time which, by coincidence, is called Mónaco by Lagos and Danny Ocean. If you listen to it you can picture yourself having a summer romance with Carlos, true story. I'd love to dive deeper into it, but idk I just needed to get it out fast for some reason. hope you like it, feedback is always welcomed<3

summary: pero si algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco (but if there’s something left in us then it’s everything that happened in Monaco)

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre

she'd never forget the warm september night when Carlos took her to the casino for the first time. He still wasn't very familiar with the principality and she was just a fleeting person for a couple of weeks, months, and he couldn't count on her of all people to know the streets of the heavenly Monaco.

As the flutes of Don Perignon continued to flow, he became more and more animated, trying his best to explain the intricate science behind poker and the true meaning behind each card. But despite his best efforts, she found herself unable to concentrate on his words. Instead, she was deeply lost in his eyes, taking in every detail of his sparkling hazel hue.

As she continued to stare, he finally noticed the piercing gaze, causing a warm flush to rise in his cheeks. A shy smile appeared on his lips, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and place a gentle kiss on them and when she pulled away, his smile grew wider making her fall deeper and deeper in this announced tragedy.

Everything was good until Carlos realized he was drunk, couldn't drive and didn't remember his address, eyes growing comically large as he came to terms that his alcohol-consumed brain really couldn't remember the name of his street, meaning someone had to drive him and his companion through the beautifully and carefully lit streets until one of you started to recognize his complex and as unusual and absurd of a situation they were in, she couldn't stop giggling as the streets kept passing by in a blur and watched Carlos still trying his best to remember.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar.

her time in Monaco was over and Carlos' career in Toro Rosso was steadily climbing, he couldn't afford to take his mind off the track and she understood, she was willing to fly over just to see him.

but it started to fade away.

she was still willing to deal with three layovers to see Carlos, and his caramel eyes still sparkled when he saw her, but there was something missing, this wasn't like their late nights in strolling around Monaco, drinking cheap wine even if they could afford a way nicer bottle.

they weren't stupid, this wasn't meant to last any longer than a couple weeks in autumn, a simple memory, one of those people you can close your eyes and feel their scent, mind playing tricks that maybe if they closed their eyes long enough they might get a feel of the soft skin of each other, running her thumb through his cheek while he tried to fall asleep.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco.

she stopped flying over, Carlos stopped asking her to spend the weekends off in his apartment, just the two of them

Both reminded themselves this wasn't meant to last, wasn't supposed to create one single string, but they both failed.

chances were, they would find each other again maybe on another holiday, another masters degree, PhD, Grand Prix; a part two, a proper goodbye to te September walks in heels she couldn't take off in order to not get a fine, pouting so Carlos would carry her on his back, as if they knew each other their entire lives.

it wasn't important now.

all they had left was what happened in Monaco.

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

translations <3

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre: i don't know if you remember about the time we got lost in September.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar: so many times i took three layovers just to see you, I think I got used to having you as if it was never gonna end.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco: i know it's too late to come back and staying wasn't our plan, i don't know if there's gonna be a second time, but if something's that's left in us is everything that happened in Monaco.

#carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz au #carlos sainz angst #f1 fluff #f1 fics #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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sleepycat63 · 10 days

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artificer's pups in my AU!

(the name of the collector was given to me by @ok1237! hope you don't mind the tag, it just felt right to give credit)

their story + more rambling under cut

Before I go into the characters' stories, I feel like I should add a bit of background to how I believe(or head-canon) the cycle works.

Basically, every creature is immortal until ascension (or other method of permadeath: ex. Rot). This means no matter what age, how you died, when you died whatever, you will wake up in the next cycle. There are no alternate timelines for each creature, if someone dies, it is never permanent. You die, you come back unharmed (physically, mentally however... yikes). Simple as that.

^^^ Less intelligent creatures, such as slugcats, are usually unaware of this fact. Specifically, Artificer is not aware of this. As far as she knows, her pups are gone.

The toll attack plays out as it does in the game. Blue pup is impaled and killed on impact. Arti and Green pup try to get away, but are hit by an explosive that blinds Arti, and stuns Green pup.

As explained earlier, Blue pup, nicknamed "Pearl" by Artificer, inevitably comes back in the next cycle, now separated from their family.

Green pup, nicknamed "Leech", does not drown. She escapes the leeches by stunning them, which is also the first appearance of the abilities she inherited from her mom. She tries to find her mom, but is forced to seek shelter before the rain kills her.

Within the following cycles, all three have parted ways. Pearl, now terrified of the Scavengers, flees the Garbage Wastes and finds himself in Industrial Complex. Leech finds herself in Waterfront Facility, still searching for her mother. Artificer.. well, we know where she is.

Pearl, inspired by Industrial's previous state as a factory, ends up learning how to craft items of their own (With help of the "fire spit" they inherited from Arti). They gave themself a title based on their love of the items they found, The Collector. He never lost his grudge against the Scavengers for separating him from his family (at this point, he believes them to be dead), only keeping peace with them for trade and convenience.

Leech, on the other hand, is still desperately searching for her mother. They're uninterested in anything but having their family back, and this makes an impact on their health (mental and physical). She lives off of only meat, favoring the Scavengers. She earned her title "The Parasite" from the Scavengers spreading word about her tendencies to target them. When they eventually give up on finding their mother, they stay in Subterranean, mindlessly feeding off the creatures there, only motivated to keep living from hope she will someday find her mother.

---

Other info:

> Both pups inherited some of Artificer's powers, but being half natural slugcat, they're dulled down significantly.

> Collector got her bomb jump, crafting skill, partial explosion immunity, and water sensitivity. They have a normal omnivore diet.

> Parasite got her bomb jump, parry, maul, partial explosion immunity, and carnivore diet.

> As of right now, only Collector is aware of how the cycle works. He is aware his mother and sister are out there somewhere, but he's terrified the Scavengers will attack and kill him again.

> Parasite is partially aware, as she has died and woken up again, but she doesn't know this applies to other creatures.

> Artificer is not aware. In her eyes, her pups were murdered in cold blood thousands of cycles ago.

> Everyone hates the Scavengers. Collie is afraid of them, Para eats them, Arti murders them. Family bonding!!!

---

that's it!! it's a work in progress as of right now, some details will be worked on and given more thought later on. feedback is VERY appreciated!! i am not a writer (these are some of the first OCs i've created and taken seriously ... ever) so i dont mind constructive criticism as long as you’re nice about it :))

btw....... if you’re interested in my OCs..... you should totally check out my askblog..... @ask-sleepys-slugs.... i've been trying to flesh out a story for my OCs and people asking questions reallyyy helps my creative process, so i'd appreciate it 🙏🙏

anywayyy byee :]

#rain world #rain world au #rw oc #rw artificer #rw artificer's pups #rw collector oc #rw parasite oc

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julihlaufey · 2 months

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Conversations On The Roof

✧⁠*⁠。A hero doesn't always have a good day. And on one of your worst days, there's nothing better than a rooftop conversation with Deadpool to make you sleep better. ✧⁠*⁠。

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Obs: This is my first work in English. You can also find it in Portuguese on the profile if you want. Good reading! ⁠♡

Female Reader/Sfw

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The nights in the city could sometimes be quite cold, especially after a day of work.

If your practices could even be called that, you didn’t receive any rewards for your actions, but to be honest, you were used to it by now. The big thing about being a hero was that you never got paid for your deeds. And if you ever messed up or slipped, all the "thank you" smiles for saving the day would fade, and the judgmental looks would appear. That was just another one of those days. You were sitting on the roof of a house near your favorite restaurant.

A place where only extremely "healthy" foods were sold. Perfect for the end of days like these. Your feet dangled against the wind, brushing the suit that covered you from head to toe.

Your hands were too busy savoring that masterpiece of cheese and grease that was your snack. And your dreams were too lost in watching the people flocking into the small restaurant to notice you were no longer alone.

— And another tough day for our Spidergirl. One more for the list!

Wade.

— How many times do I have to tell you. I don't use that name?!

— Então qual é o nome do seu herói? — Ele perguntou, já sabendo a resposta.

— ... Ainda não sei. Mas eu vou decidir. - Você olha para o lado, vendo-o rir por baixo da máscara e sentar-se ao seu lado de forma preguiçosa.

— This time I remembered to ask for extra mustard. - You said, handing over his still-wrapped sandwich.

— E queijo extra? — perguntou Deadpool, animado por depois de tantas vezes, você finalmente ter se lembrado.

— Wasn't it without? - You replied, watching the smile on his face disappear instantly. — Just kidding, extra cheese.

He gave you a playful punch on the arm, starting his meal. His legs swung carelessly.

— Looks like my day was a piece of crap, but yours was wonderful.

— You say that because I didn't try shoving you of the roof today or because my legs are swinging?

You roll your eyes.

— Because of the legs.

— Nah, it was crap. The idiot of the day found out I was coming and holed up in a panic room. The son of a bitch even mocked me through the security camera, can you believe it? - He said, pulling his mask up above his eyes this time, staring at you.

— And you couldn't get through a little panic room?

— I'm a mercenary, my love, not a magician. Unless you want me to be. - He added in a suggestive tone, leaning closer. You're lost count of how many times you rolled your eyes around Wade.

But surprisingly, those provocations and confident laughs were the best part of your day.

— But no. I didn't get that jerk. It's for next time. And you? Couldn't save the kitty from the tree?

— No. He suffocated on the rope in front of his ten-year-old owner.

He stared at you. For a moment, Wade thought it might be true, but he quickly caught on.

— Got it. My target escaped, but it was very hard. His son had to die, and he watched through the camera, unable to do anything.

— The little girl went into shock until her mom arrived, having to see him bloody and hanging.

— The boy was carrying a little truck. The father must have given it to him before I arrived.

— The little girl ended up hospitalized, and they don't know if she'll ever recover from the trauma.

— ... There was a baby and-

— No.

— Damn. - Deadpool slapped his leg in defeat. — But seriously, did you get the cat?

— Screw you. It was a fire case. The couple arrived, and the house was engulfed in smoke. I only managed to get the kid out.

— Isn't that good? You stopped a brat from dying. That's pretty sexy to me. You chuckled weakly at his infamous attempt to lighten the mood.

— They asked me to try to get to the safe. The couple's savings were there, and he had just lost his job.

— They can get the money back, darling. You weren't that bad.

— She's eight months pregnant, Wade. - You said, with a heavy voice. It wasn't easy to recall that stressful afternoon.

— ... Yeah, you got me there. And unfortunately, not in the way I wanted.

Rolling your eyes with a weak smile, you took a sip of your soda.— But look. You're a hero, you had to save their lives. Isn't that the hero's deal? The bad guy, the fire, was stopped, and the victims, the family, were saved. You did everything you could, cupcake.

— You're not used to failing and then having people look at you and curse like you're the worst person in the world...

— Ah, believe me, sweetie. Whether I kill, don't kill, or don't even show up at all, I get cursed.

You smiled faintly. Wade's jokes could usually cheer you up, and you truly appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits. But that day, things were a bit deeper.

Deadpool noticed, seeing that you didn't react as usual to his jokes. Crumpling the brown sandwich bag, he tossed it aside, giving his drink one last sip and patting his thigh twice.

You turned your head, confused.— Come on. Don't be afraid, I swear I don't bite. Unless you ask.

Laughing a little and rolling your eyes for the twentieth time that night, you accepted, resting your head on his leg.

— It's comfortable. - You commented impulsively.

— Thanks, I work out. I promise it gets even better higher up.

Feeling a slap on his knee, Wade laughed, taking off his mask completely. You felt his hand still warm through the glove, moving your hood aside and stroking your hair.

— Now, do you prefer a bedtime story about unicorns or how I beheaded a guy yesterday?

The soft touch. The calming breath that synchronized with his laugh as Wade tried to recount his work yesterday as if it were a fairy tale. Your eyes began to blur at each streetlight.

Your head relaxed and rested its weight on Wilson's lap. Maybe after a tiring and stressful day, all you needed was a session of Wade talking non-stop until you fell asleep.

#1k #ch: wade #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x fem reader #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x y/n #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson fic #wade wilson fanfic #wade wilson fanfiction #deadpool x reader #deadpool x fem reader #deadpool x you #deadpool x y/n #deadpool imagine #deadpool fic #deadpool fanfiction

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spidybaby · 1 year

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Begin Again | Part Three

Summary: Back to the start to fix the broken pieces just to find that you can get what you always dreamed.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hello! I want to apologize for the waiting. Most of that was because I got sick (I still am), but here it is. Hope you like it. Love you all 💛✨️

Part one | Part two

April 2027

The moving went smoothly, Elena and Paulo helped you with everything. Your parents didn't like the idea, but you shut them down.

You weren't supposed to start till the end of April, giving you enough time to mind a plan to fix everything.

You saw online that Pedro was on Manchester. Apparently, Manchester City wanted to buy him.

"No sobre pienses tanto lo que haces, estas haciendo lo mejor para ti." (Don't overthink your decision. You're doing what's best for you)

Elena was the voice of reason in this situation.

"No sé ni donde empezar." (I don't even know where to start)

"Escuchame, eres una de las personas más inteligentes que conozco, venga tía, tu puedes con esto, es normal no saber ni donde empezar, pero estoy aquí para ti, para ayudarte en todo." (Listen to me, you're one of the smartest people I've ever known, c'mon dude, you can do it, it's okay not knowing where to start, but I'm here for you to help you with everything)

You hug her, crying a little, she makes you feel less alone.

Your mother stopped talking to you once she found out about the moving, telling you how much of a mistake you were making.

Your dad was siding with her, even when he didn't say you were making a mistake, he did tell you it was a bad decision.

But you didn't care, you pack your stuff and moved back to Barcelona. You even unblock his family from social media and didn't follow them, but unblock them was a start.

"Vamos por un helado." Elena says, drying your tears, "polito, amor mio, vamos!" (Let's go get some ice cream, Polito, my love, let's go)

She was carrying the diaper bag and your son, to say he even had a matching outfit with her.

"Oye, vamos a la playa, quiero una foto con mi bebé. Polito, te pondré tu chamarra de osito." (Let's go to the beach, I want a photo with my baby, Polito, let me put you your bear sweater)

"Tu bebé?" You laugh helping her with the sweater. "Amorcito, tienes nueva mami." (Your baby? Baby, you have a new mommy)

She laughed and made her way to the front door, grabbing your purse on the way out and your phone. You followed her.

"Crees que Pedro haría algo para quedarse con Polo?" You ask once you got to the beach. Your mom words did have an impact, even if you knew he wouldn't. "Yo sé que no, pero me da miedo." (Do you think Pedro would do anything to take Polo away? I know he wouldn't, but I'm scared)

"Y/n, claro que no, por favor saca esas ideas de tu mente, Pedro y tu tuvieron algo tan especial, él jamás haría nada para lastimarte." (Y/n, of course not, please take that idea out of your mind. Pedro and you had something so special, I know he won't do anything to hurt you)

You only nodded, not wanting to overthink those words.

"Mis padres me odian." (My parents hate me)

"No creo, solo están preocupados." (I don't think so, they're just worried)

But worried about what?

"Venga, Dame a mi hijo, vamos a tomarnos fotos." Elena says, throwing the empty ice cream cup in the trash can near you. (Give me my son, let's take some pictures)

"Lo bueno es que tu lo pariste, vieja tonta." (The good thing us that you birth him, dumbass)

Elena dances a little with him, singing a Quevedo song. The song makes you remember Pedro, he loves Quevedo music.

You take the pictures of Polo and Elena and she then takes some of you and him.

"Ay déjame subir esta." (Oh let me post this one)

You see the picture, it was cute.

"Dale."

"La verdad la oferta esta muy buena, para mi que la tomes." Mario, who is Pedro's manager says, "O es que aún piensas en quedarte en el barça?" (I think the offer is really good, I think you should take it. Or are you still thinking about staying?)

Pedro was lost in his thoughts, Manchester was offering him 150 million euros, with full on benefits and even to keep the number 8.

But on the other side, Barça was the club of his life. He couldn't imagine playing for other club.

He played for another season, but due to a mistake in his contract, he could leave for free this summer.

"Creo que debo pensarlo, hablarlo bien con mis padres." (I have to think about it, talk with my parents)

His manager agreed and changed the subject. He was invited to a club, but he rejected it. Fer was not I the mood, and without him, he was not going.

"Vamos de regreso al hotel." (Let's go back to the hotel)

After the arrival, he and his manager went to their rooms. He was sharing one with Fernando.

"Cómo te fue chaval?" (How was it?)

"Mmm. Estuvo bien, es un puto dolor de cabeza pensar en esto, no sé ni que hacer." (It was good, but it's a fucking headache thinking about all of this, I don't even know what to do)

"Venga, vamos al bar del hotel, tomamos algo y hablamos, no te estreses Pedro" (Let's go to the bar of the hotel, let's have some drinks and a talk. Don't stress)

They both made their way to the bar, Fernando was telling him about a gift he bought for his girlfriend.

"Mira que linda foto," Fer says, showing him the picture Elena posts about a baby with a bear sweater. "Quiero un sobrino para vestirlo así." (Look at this beautiful picture, I want a nephew to dress him like that)

Fernando looks at him with funny eyes, Pedro only laughs, "eres un gilipollas, tu deberías darme un sobrino" (you're an asshole, you're supposed to give me a nephew.)

They laughed and forgot about the picture. Asking for drinks and some food to begin the night.

"Alguna vez has pensado en cómo serias cómo padre?" (Have you ever thought about you as a father?) Fernando asks.

That puts him in deep thoughts. He did think about it, even dream with it.

The little baby in your arms with the barça shirt, his number on the back of both yours and the baby's shirt.

"La verdad?" (You want the truth?)

"Macho, no como crees? Dime mentiras." Fer says as he hits him on the back of the head. "Pues claro tonto, por algo pregunté." (Man, not at all, tell me lies. Well, obviously, I want the truth, I asked for a reason.)

"Venga ya que la colleja no era necesaria." He laughs. "Siempre lo imaginé, usualmente era algo que hablamos y/n y yo, ella quería un niño, y hombre no te miento, yo también quería uno, pero luego miraba a nuestro primo con su hija y pensaba en una niña." He says, remembering all the late night talks you two had. (The hit on the head was not necessary, I've always pictured it. It was something y/n and I always talked about. She wants a boy and man, I do want a son too, but after seeing our cousins with his girl, I thought about having a girl)

Fernando looks at the way he talks about it, the shine of his eyes, he haven't seen that shine in months.

"Puedo preguntarte algo, pero no te enojas?" (Can I ask you something without you getting mad?)

"Mhm?"

"Por qué la dejaste ir?" (Why did you let her go?)

Pedro takes his eyes away from his brother. That question was one he asked himself every night since that December night.

"Recuerdas el anillo?" He asks, Fernando nods. "Yo sabía que ella quería que su padre estuviera de acuerdo con el matrimonio, la bendición, así que fui a pedirla, yo quería casarme con ella." (Remember the ring? I knew she wanted his father to be okay with the marriage, the blessing. So I went to ask for it, I wanted yo marry her)

"Pero?" (But?)

"Pero su padre me dijo que no podía darmela, que yo era un chaval con una vida muy distinta a la que el soñaba para el esposo de su hija. Me dijo que pensaba que ella algún día iba a darse cuenta y dejarme, como no lo hizo, solo esperó. Me pidió dejarla, diciendo que ella no quería irse de Barcelona por mi, porque no quería dejarme, diciéndome que sus sueños iban a ser siempre interrumpidos por mi, por mi carrera y me pidió dejarla ir, dejarla emprender su propio camino, brillar por si sola." He says angrily, remembering the words of your father. (But her father couldn't give it to me, I was a kid with a totally different life from the one he pictured his son in law would have. He told me he hoped for her to realize that and left me, but she never did, so he waited. He asked me to leave her, but she didn't want to leave Barcelona because of me, telling me her dreams were going to be interrupted by me because of my career. So he asked me to let her go, for her to shine on her own, to begin her own path in life)

Fernando was in shock. He always thought it was about a fight, maybe even a bad patch on the relationship. Even his parents told him he was making a mistake, but know it makes sense.

"Pedro. Por qué no me habías contado?" (Pedro, why didn't you tell me?)

He shrugs, not facing him. Drinking way too quickly.

"Pedro, por favor mirame."

He did, after a few minutes.

"Lo siento, por haberte criticado, haberte culpado y juzgado mal. No sabía lo que había pasado, ojalá me hubieras contado, para así apoyarte. Lo siento hermanito." He hugs him, the hug was tight, and Pedro needed that. (I'm sorry. For judging you and for blaming you. I didn't know, and I wish you had told me I would have supported you. I'm sorry, hermanito.

Pedro felt relief. The secret he kept to himself was now free from him.

"Has pensado en hablar con ella?" (Have you thought about reaching her?)

He shake his head no.

"La verdad siento que me odia, la hice mierda, la deje y luego ignore sus llamadas, sus mensajes. Me dolió el alma, Fernando. Pero era lo que yo en ese momento creía correcto. (To be honest, I feel that she hates me, I fuck her up, after I dumped her I ignored her calls and texts, that broke my heart, Fernando. But I thought I was doing the right thing)

"Escuchame, tu hiciste lo que en ese momento creíste correcto, no te culpes más, pero creo que es obvio que no la has superado, aún piensas en ella." Fer says, patting his back. "Venga, déjame ayudarte a recuperarla y si no se puede pues ayudarte a superarlo, juntos en todo, como cuando niños." (Listen to me, you did what you thought was the right thing, don't blame yourself anymore. I think it is pretty obvious that you love her. You still think of her. So, let me help you get her back, and if that's not possible, let me help you move on, but together, like when we were kids)

"Te amo, eres el mejor." (I love you, you're the best)

"Yo te amo más, venga que tenemos que pensar en algo." (I love you more, c'mon, we have to plan how you're getting her back)

Pedro smiled, high five his brother, and begins with the plan for that to happen. Like fer said, together.

You were at the supermarket, you needed food for your fridge. Elena stayed with Polo. He was fussy, so you let him stay.

You got almost everything on the list. I'm picking a few fruits. Since Polo is now six months old, the doctor told you to start with some fruit based foods.

You grabbed some sweet potato, some bananas, and some avocados. Also some vegetables like broccoli, carrot, and some more.

You were so focused on picking some apples that when someone touched you to grab your attention you kind of jump.

"Ay Dios," you say, putting your hand on your heart, "Pablo?" You ask seeing him smile, trying not to laugh.

"Sigues siendo la misma tía que se asusta de todo al parecer." (You're still the same scary girl I see).

You laugh, hugging him. It's been a long time without seeing him.

"Cuando volviste?" (When did you came back?)

"Hace poco, a finales de marzo." (Not that long ago, end of March.)

"Y estas aquí para quedarte? O solo de visita?" (Are you staying or only for a visit?)

You smile, "Vine para quedarme" (I'm here to stay)

You talked for a while, and you both continued the shopping.

"Y dime, como vas de amores?" (And tell me, how's the love?)

You shrug, not knowing how to answer.

"Pues, sigo soltera. Los Italianos son muy intensos, te juro. Y tu que tal de amores?" (Well, I'm still single, Italian guys are way too much. What about you?)

"Recuerdas a Carolina?" (Do you remember Carolina?)

"La nena del agua?" (The water girl?)

He nodded, excited. "Hace casi un año estamos saliendo, ya no es la del agua, ahora es entrenadora de los niños en el club" (almost a year ago we been dating, and she's not the water girl anymore, she's a coach for the first starters in the club.)

"Eso está increíble, Pablito." (That's amazing, Pablito)

"Haz vuelto a hablar con Pedro?" (Have you talked to Pedro?)

If Pablo was known for something, it was two things, his anger on the pitch and not having a filter when he speaks.

"No, hace mucho que no hablo con él." (No, it's been a long time without talking to him.)

He nodded, understanding.

"Pero, de hecho he querido hablar con él desde que regresé. No sé si quiera hablarme." (But, I've been looking to talk to him since I came back, but I don't know if he would talk to me)

"Pero vamos, claro que quiere" (c'mon, he obviously wants to)

You smile at his words.

"Deja darte el número, tuvo que cambiarlo porque en un entreno le hicimos mierda el movil" (let me give you his number, he had to change it since once during training we fucked his phone)

"No me sorprende, siempre se hacian mierda las cosas ustedes" (I'm not surprised, you guys always fucked your things)

He grabbed your phone, saving Pedro's number.

"Te he guardando el mio igual, por si alguna vez necesitas algo, acá estoy." (I saved mine too. If you ever need anything, I'm here)

You hugged goodbye as you both went different ways.

You hurry to the line, wanting to get home so you can tell Elena the news.

"Sabes que me encanta de Manchester, el ambiente es diferente a España, no sé cómo describirlo pero es diferente" Fernando says, looking around. (You know what I love about Manchester? The atmosphere is different. I don't know how to explain it, but it's different)

Pedro laughed, agreeing with him. Mario only nodded smiling.

"Bien, entonces dame unos días y te daré la respuesta, si?" (Okay, give me a few days, and I'll have the answer) Pedro says referring to the contract.

"Tomate una semana, meditalo y si tienes dudas podemos hablar, poner un pro y con sobre la mesa." (Take a week, meditate it, and if you have any doubts, call me up, and we can put all the pros and cons at the table to make up your mind)

After that, they changed the topic, talking about a game they were invited to, Fer and Mario were talking about one specific player and how he got a yellow card for something that was a clearly a red.

Pedro's mind was far away from that, seeing the text he got from Pablo.

She was back, and she wanted to talk with him.

He was out of breath, wanted to tell Fernando right away, but he knew better and wait for the night to be over.

As they entered the room, he grabbed his brother's shoulders, shaking him while screaming in happiness.

"Me vas a descalabrar capullo." (You're going to hurt me, idiot)

"Mira," he shows the text message.

Fernando is now screaming with him, happy for the news.

"A ver, calma ya" (okay, let's calm down), Fernando says, taking a few breaths. "Si te quiere ver y Pablo le dio tu número, ella te va a escribir, es obvio." (If she wants to see you and Pablo gave her your number, she'll text you, it's obvious)

And as Fer finished saying that, Pedro's phone lights up with a text from an unknown number.

Pedro checks it and screams, showing it to his brother, who screams with him.

(Hi,

I hope you're doing great. I'm sending you this message to let you know I'm in Barcelona and I'll like to meet up with you to talk.

-Y/n)

"Qué contesto?" Pedro says, full of nerves. (What can I text back?)

"Trae pa ca', tonto," he says, taking the phone from his brothers hand. (Give me that, morron)

(Hi

I like to see you, we can meet wherever, maybe somewhere more calm to avoid paparazzi)

Back in Barcelona, you and Elena are sitting in your couch, face to face.

"Ya contestó," you say excited. (He answered)

"A ver," Elena says, taking the phone from you. "Contesta" (let me see, answer him).

"No sé que poner," you say nervios. (I don't know how to answer)

"Ay, dame aquí, tonta" (give me that, idiot)

("Do you still living I'm the same place." "Yes, do you remember the address, or do you need the location?")

"Crees que recuerde?" Pedro asks, seeing the answer his brother sends. (Do you think she remembers?)

"Callate, déjame ver que responde," Fer says, seeing the three dots. (Shut up, let me answer)

("No, I do remember, what about tomorrow morning?" "I'll be back from Manchester tomorrow at noon. Let's meet at night, if that's okay with you.")

"Cierto que vi que estaba en Manchester," you say as you read the text, "Dile que si" (it's true, he's in Manchester, say yes)

"Calmate," Elena says. (Calm down)

("I'll see you tomorrow at night" "7 pm?" "Yes, " "I'll see you tomorrow. " "Goodbye, Pedro.")

Pedro and Fernando were looking at the last text.

"Niño" Fernando says, screaming and hugging his brother.

Pedro is excited. He was getting you back. No matter how hard, how much he has to fight or work, he's getting you back. He's putting that ring on your finger. He's getting that dream family.

What he didn't know is that on Barcelona, Elena, and you are jumping and screaming on the couch.

"Dios, estoy tan nerviosa." You say as you calm down. "Necesito que me lleves, por favor." (Gosh, I'm so excited. Please, I need you to take me)

"Obvio, tonta." (Obviously, dummy)

You both look and start screaming again, until a cry make you stop.

"Oops," Elena says.

You laugh and go to collect your baby. He was crying due to your screaming, mad because his dreams were interrupted.

"Ya, ya mi amor, ven acá." You say picking him up, calming him. "No sabes, tu papi y yo nos vamos a ver." You say as he calms down. "Y estoy nerviosa, espero mañana puedas conocerlo." (It's okay, love, come here. You have no idea. Daddy and I are meeting up, I'm nervous, and I hope you both can meet up tomorrow)

You kiss him. Taking him with you back to the living room.

"Vente." You say to Elena, "ayúdame a escoger el outfit." (Come, help me pick my outfit)

You feel like a teenager getting ready for her first date.

The butterflies, the nervousness in your system, and the excitement.

Tomorrow, you're getting that family you both dreamed about.

Tag list:

@alwaysclassyeagle @footballerficsposts @gulphulp @cinderellawithashoe @jajajhaahaha @bellinghambby22 @pablogavisgirl @lunamelona @christinabae @fadinglovermuffintaco 💛✨️

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