#the amount of angsty theories I have

[lovereadandwrite]

Fyodor would absolutely invent a medieval cello just so he could celebrate😌🎶🎻 my tlkt0k: sarahdeleonart

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 8

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

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

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

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

"You... are considering leaving Barca?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gavi!"

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

Why was Gavi on the floor?

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

Why was Gavi on the floor?

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

Why was Gavi on the floor?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pablo, can you hear me?"

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

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

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

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

"Good. What is your name?"

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

"Good. And who am I?"

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

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

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

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

You had nothing left to lose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

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

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

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

"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pablo."

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Doctora."

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u

[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?

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

~

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

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

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

"Mine."

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

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

"Pedri?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come back to Barca."

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

"You're talking about Pablo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gavi I love you!"

"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"

"Xavi have my babies!"

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

"Miss, you need to maintain space."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you afraid of flying?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why the new contract now then?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Name your demand."

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

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

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

"Did you enjoy your trip?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The spiky hair? Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

"No, not tonight."

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

*~*Taglist*~*

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

[redrose10]

Part 1

Here is part 1 of this new story that I’m working on. I was going to post it as one big chapter, but I’ve received feedback that multiple chapters are preferred so that’s the route I went. I really hope that everyone likes it! This first part is very very angsty.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 9,602

Tag List: @viankiss

You slunk down in your office chair hanging your head low. Your boss had just chewed you out after you presented her with a draft of your newest novel that you had thought you were just about finished with, but it appears you were going to have to start from the beginning.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you thought it would?”, your best friend and coworker, Nari responded.

“She said that it’s not believable and that I need to use my own personal experiences as inspiration. I can’t keep writing the same story over and over just changing the names and location. The reader will be able to connect with it more if it’s from experience. I have two months to send her the new story or I’m on unpaid leave until I submit something worth publishing. It’s such bullshit.”, you huffed.

“I mean she kind of has a point. Anyone can put a bunch of words down on a piece of paper, but unless there is real feeling behind it then those words won’t get far.”

You rolled your eyes, “Seriously? You too? And what personal experience should I use?”

“Y/N you’ve been in relationships before. Just use one of them or a combination of all of them.”

“Oh yeah, should I go with the one who cheated on me or the one who ghosted me after he got me in his bed, or the one that would loose his temper at the smallest thing I did to upset him? I’ve never had a good relationship experience.”, you chuckle self deprecatingly.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in like that. Maybe try writing something else. Not every story has to be about a relationship, good or bad.”

Running your hands over your face you sighed, “I just don’t know what to do any more. I feel so burnt out and unmotivated. I don’t think I could come up with another story if I wanted to.”

“Why don’t you take a break? You know, get out of town for a while. I’m sure our boss won’t mind, especially if it gets you to clear your head and write something decent.”

Pondering this theory for a minute you began to think she might be on to something.

“Where would I go though? I can’t really afford to travel far and I don’t want to be too distracted that I can’t get anything done.”

After some silence Nari jumped up, “Oh I’ve got the perfect place. It’s just a four hour flight out to the countryside. A little town called, Holly Falls. My sister and her fiancé stayed there several months ago.”

Thinking it over a little it sounded like a good idea. After some begging and promising your boss that you were going to get work done while on the trip she agreed.

Once you arrived at the airport you really wished you’d done a little more research about Holly Falls. After some digging and a conversation with a very outgoing Uber Driver you found out that eleven months out of the year the town is very low key and relaxed, but for one month it is a tourist hotspot thanks to the insane amount of blooming cherry blossom trees. According to your new Uber friend, people come to Holly Falls during this month to see the fields of trees blooming in all their glory. The normally quiet town embraces the crowds providing various festivals and parades and gimmicks to draw in the guests as well as their wallets. And of course you just happen to travel over there smack dab in the middle of it all.

The driver dropped you off in the middle of the fun so with your bag slung over your shoulder you started heading into different hotels trying to book a room. In the city you could walk into pretty much any hotel at any time and book a room. You had assumed it would be same in this small town so you had decided to wait to book a room until you could see them in person wanting to get the feel and make sure you chose the right fit. You imagine in any other month it would be much easier to obtain a place to stay here, but due to the large tourist presence every single hotel was completely booked for the entire month.

You were just about ready to give up and head to the airport to see about booking a flight home when an older gentleman came up to you carrying various handmade trinkets for sale.

“See anything you like miss? All of these are under $10.”, he asked.

Politely you smiled, “No thank you. Not right now.”

You thought he had left until you saw him dangling a hand painted sun catcher in front of you. The design a beautiful beautiful cherry blossom. Trying to bite your tongue and not snap at the elderly man you again shook your head. “Here have it for free. You seem to need a little cheering up.”, he smiled.

Reaching up you grabbed the delicate glass from him, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if I came off rude. I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“Didn’t know about the cherry blossom season and now you can’t find a place to stay?”, he asked. “How did you know?”, you replied wide eyed. The elderly man chuckled while taking a seat next to you, “There’s always at least one person that gets stuck here with nowhere to stay because they didn’t know how crazy things can get around here this time of the year.”

“Mmh yeah that would be me this year. I need somewhere to stay for a couple weeks or I’m going to have to head back home.” “You know there might be somewhere that still has a room available. It’s just outside all of the hubbub. About ten miles just over that hill. If you get to Taehyung’s Strawberry Farm then you’ve gone too far.”, he said pointing in the opposite direction of the festivities. “Really? You think they’d have a room? I wonder why they wouldn’t be booked like every other place.”

The gentleman stood up from the bench you were both on, “Its worth a shot. It’s a little farther away from all the action than people like to be. Plus the owners are a little on the unique side.”

You were concerned at this statement. The last thing you wanted to do was end up being the story line of a true crime documentary.

He continued, “They are very nice people. A young man and his grandmother. They just tend to be very secluded and to themselves. It’s called Interlude Inn. You can’t miss it.”

You thanked him for the information and watched as he walked into a large group of people trying to sell the rest of his merchandise. Placing the delicate sun catcher in your bag you ordered another Uber to take you over to the inn. A familiar vehicle quickly pulled up in front of you with the same talkative man from earlier. You wondered how there weren’t any other drivers available, but you smiled as you slid in the back seat anyways.

“Leaving so soon?”, he asked.

You chuckled, “No I just need to find somewhere else to stay. Can you please take me to The Interlude Inn?” Suddenly the man stopped, turning to look back at you.

“Miss you don’t want to stay there. Surely there’s somewhere else around here you can stay.”

“Every hotel is completely booked. If this inn doesn’t have a room then I’ll have to just go home.”

He sighed, “Alright miss. If you insist.”

He began the drive to your location. His words about finding somewhere else stuck in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Yes Miss”

“What you said earlier. What is so bad about this inn?”

“Well, the grandma, I think her name is Mae, is very sweet. She’s done the best she can with what she had. But that Min boy, he’s a little odd.”

“Ohhh…Like serial killer odd?”

The man chuckled, “No not that kind of odd. He’s just very quiet and keeps to himself, but he is polite. He’s never seemed to have any friends and I doubt he’s ever had any kind of relationship. He comes into town only a few times a year, mostly when his grandmother needs something. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, even when they speak to him directly. People usually only stay at the inn as a last resort during this busy season.”

From what you’re hearing he seemed like just a quiet introverted person who loves his grandma. You weren’t sure why everyone seemed so leery of him.

The car pulled up infront of the inn. The large wooden sign out front verified you were indeed at The Interlude Inn. Thanking your driver you grabbed your bag and made your way up to the entrance.

The Inn looked cozy and welcoming. It was smaller than you had imagined. There couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. Off to the side you noticed a little garden with various plants starting to bloom.

On the door hung a welcome sign adorned with hand painted lady bugs and butterflies. Turning the handle you gently pushed in the door being greeted by a heavenly aroma making your stomach grumble. The entrance room which also doubled as a living room had two couches, one on either side of a coffee table. A television hung on the wall above a fireplace. In the corner was a small desk which you assume would be where you could request a room.

Walking over you noticed a younger man crouching down so he was eye level with one of the drawers. He appeared to be about your age, mid to late twenties. Black hair with a slight curl to it hung over his forehead. Beautiful cat like eyes and his soft lips formed into a deep pout. You wanted so badly to reach over and squeeze his chubby cheeks, but you knew that was a weirdness you didn’t want to invoke. He was fidgeting with a drawer that seemed to be stuck and you could here the argument he was having in soft whispers,

“Come on you stupid thing.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Please, I just need a pen and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

You chuckled hearing him begging the drawer to cooperate. Reaching into your bag you grabbed one of your spare pens and set it on the desk, “Here I have a pen you could use.”

The young man let out a sudden squeal after you startled him. He jumped backwards and landed on his behind with a loud thud.

“Oh no I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you had heard me come in.”, you apologized feeling terrible.

The poor guy sat on the ground trying to collect himself before bringing himself back to a standing position. That’s when you noticed his cheeks were a bright shade of red, making you want to squeeze them even more. The man didn’t say a word. His eyes were barely able to focus on you, instead they would move around the room before returning to you for just a second before he’d quickly look elsewhere.

“Ahh this must be the Min boy the driver was talking about?”, you thought to yourself. They weren’t kidding when they said he was quiet and reserved.

“Hi, I’m sorry again for scaring you. I was just wondering if you had a room I could rent for a couple weeks.”

The man just continued looking around the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t have any available. It was just recommended for me to come up here for a room since all the others are booked.”

Again silence. You were about to ask if he was okay when a door off to the left swung open and a very sweet looking elderly woman came walking out. She must be the grandmother that was mentioned. She was covered in flour so you assumed that’s where the heavenly smell was coming from.

“Yoongi dear did you get that pen yet? I need to label the jars of blueberry jam.”, she spoke. When she noticed you she jumped slightly, but not in a scared kind of way. More like an oh no how long have you been standing there while my grandson stares at you kind of way.

“Oh hi sweety, how can we help you?”, she asked. Her grandson, that you now knew was named Yoongi, was still standing off to the side. You had to intently stare at his chest to make sure he was still breathing because you were honestly getting very concerned for him.

“Yes ma’am, I was wondering if you had any available rooms that I could rent for the next couple of weeks?”

She smiled while pulling out an old and beat up note book to take down your info. You liked the old school feel. It was much different than the digital kingdom of the city where you lived.

“Of course dear. Did you need one bed or two?”

“Just one will be fine.”

“Okay and you said two weeks?”

“Yes please.”

“No problem. Just fill out your name and address here. Payment will be due at the end of your stay when you check out.”

Quickly you wrote down all the requested information before handing the book back over. You couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi still hadn’t moved, but his cheeks were still a bright shade of pink so you knew he was at least breathing.

The grandma spoke again, “Thank you so much dear. My name is Mae, but you can call me grandma, granny, halmeoni, MaeMae, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Even though you’ve heard that joke countless times you still laughed. Something about this sweet woman warmed your heart.

She continued, “This is my grandson Yoongi. He can help you with your bags and show you to your room. You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. It should be ready in about twenty minutes or so.”

You thanked her profusely and watched as she walked back into the kitchen. Yoongi walked around the desk without making eye contact. He reached for your bag that was currently sitting on the ground and you noticed a shake to his hand due to his nerves.

“Uh uh um y-you c-can follow me.”, he spoke before walking down the long hallway. He opened the door to small cozy room. A window sat overlooking the garden. A bed adorned with a lilac colored quilt sat against the wall. There was a dresser available for storage and a desk off to the side. It was perfect.

Yoongi laid your bag down at the foot of the bed. You wanted to ask him if he needed to lie down based on how terrified he looked. Instead you opted to try and get him to speak to you at all.

“Hi Yoongi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You stuck your hand out offering a hand shake. It was getting awkward waiting for him to return the gesture, but just before you were going to dejectedly pull your hand back he reached up and took your hand in his.

With his cheeks back to bright red he quickly bowed and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

Since dinner was going to be ready soon you opted to just lay in bed enjoying the comfort after a long day of travel. When Mae called you for dinner you entered the dining room surprised to only see her and Yoongi sat at the table.

“Am I the only guest?”, you asked suddenly feeling out of place.

“Yes dear, but don’t worry. We are so happy to have you here.”, she smiled pulling out a chair for you.

You nodded taking the offered seat while she filled up your bowl with some beef soup.

“So Y/N, what brings you to Holly Falls? I’m assuming it’s the cherry blossoms.”, she asked.

“Oh no I just needed to take a little vacation and clear my head. Having some work problems. My friend recommended this town to me. I didn’t even know about the cherry blossoms until I got here.”

“Well you’re going to love it here. There’s no more of a relaxing place.”

You smiled and accepted the second helping of soup. The two of you kept the conversation going talking about this and that. Yoongi never said a word. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him sneaking little glances in your direction before quickly turning his head but you chose to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass him.

After dinner you offered to help clean up the kitchen which was greatly appreciated. Mae sent Yoongi out to the garden to collect some chamomile to make tea. As she rinsed off the dishes you would take them and dry them before putting them in their respective spots.

“Thank you for being gentle with Yoongi.”, she spoke breaking the silence.

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that and apparently your face showed it because she continued,

“He really is such a caring and sweet young man. He’s just been hurt so many times and he’s so afraid of letting someone in for fear of it happening again. I worry what will happen to him when I’m no longer here. I don’t want him to be alone. He deserves the world and I hope that one day he finds someone that will give it to him.”

You wanted to ask questions, but felt it wasn’t a good idea to pry when you’ve only known this family for a few hours.

“He seems very sweet. I’d love to get to know him more.”, you responded.

“Oh please do. Go slow, but I think if you keep at it he just might open up to you. As soon as you went to your room he came to me and said you seemed like a very genuine person.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought.

“Do you know if he has any interests or anything? Maybe something I could ask him about.”

She lightly chuckled, “Well he loves music. He has these notebooks that he’s always writing lyrics in, but he has never let anyone look at them. He likes basketball. He was really good when he was younger, but he doesn’t play it much any more. Oh! And you’d never guess it but he likes to knit. He’d be furious if he ever found out I told you that so you didn’t hear that one from me.”

You nodded in agreement before putting the final plate away just as Yoongi returned with the requested chamomile. He shyly smiled at you before nervously running out of the room. After enjoying a cup of tea you said goodnight and made your way back to your room for the evening.

The following morning you cranklily padded to the dining area. Mornings were not your thing. Thankfully you were greeted with the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread. Mae was nowhere to be seen, but Yoongi was standing at the counter chopping some vegetables for what you presumed was an omelet based on all the ingredients in front of him. You stood in the doorway thankful that he hadn’t noticed you yet as it gave you a chance again to admired his features. You smiled at how the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration as he focused on chopping an onion.

Silently you walked up next to him and smiled, “Anything I can help with?” The poor thing nearly jumped two feet in the air also letting the knife slip which sliced the tip of his thumb. When you saw the small amount of blood coming to the surface you panicked.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry Yoongi. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. What was I thinking?”, you said grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the sink. He hadn’t said a word.

After thoroughly washing the cut and using a paper towel to dry it you asked if there were any bandaids. Shyly he pointed underneath the sink and you found a first aid kit.

“Okay this might sting a little.”, you said applying the disinfectant. You felt awful when you saw his body flinch. After the cut was securely wrapped in a bandaid you began apologizing again, “I’m so sorry Yoongi. This is not how I intended for this to go. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt still? Is there anything I can do?”

For the first time since you arrived you saw a full blown smile on his face. He shook his head, “N-No thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well let me help you prepare breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

After some hesitation he agreed so you cleaned up the work station and got a new cutting board before you got to work chopping the rest of the vegetables. When breakfast was over and you had helped clean up you decided to go back to your room for a while and try to get some work done. Unfortunately things weren’t going that great. You were still struggling to put together a decent storyline and after two hours of staring at your laptop you decided to give up and take a break.

Peaking out the window you noticed Yoongi working in the garden. He looked adorable in his overalls and dark green sweater. A matching green beanie on to give a little more warmth. You wondered if he had knit it himself. You grabbed your jacket and decided to head outside for some fresh air.

Not wanting a repeat from the morning you loudly made your presence known as to not startle him again. Only when you were sure that he had noticed you did you decided to say something.

“What are you working on?”, you asked crouching down next to him.

He whispered something that you couldn’t quite catch. You noticed the redness intensifying in his cheeks too. He was just so incredibly cute.

“What kind of seeds are these?”

“Oh they are um cabbage and um radish seeds.”, he said without looking up from the dirt.

“Hmmm I know nothing about gardening, but isn’t it still too cold to plant these? I always thought it needed to be hot for seeds to grow.”

“S-Some s-seeds can grow when it’s colder out. Then we’ll h-harvest them and p-plant the rest.”

“Ahhh I see. I never even knew that was possible. What else are you planting?”

Did you care about gardening or seeds or soil quality? No absolutely not. But this was the most Yoongi has spoken to you so you rattled off question after question and made odd comments here and there just to get him to keep talking. By the time you were done his face was beet red and his hands were shaking quite a bit more than earlier. You were starting to feel bad and like you were pushing him past his breaking point so you wanted to give him some space.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your knees you said, “Well it’s gotten quite chilly out. I’m gonna head inside. Thank you for teaching me so much. Maybe one day I’ll have a garden and you could come see it for yourself.”

He nodded without looking up at you and you took that as his way of saying goodbye. Once inside you found a smiling Mae standing in the kitchen.

She handed you hot bowl of leftover soup for lunch and sat at the table next to you.

“You know, that’s the longest I’ve ever seen him converse with someone other than me in a long long time. Normally he’d just get up and walk away without saying a word.”

The thought of asking about Yoongi’s past crossed your mind again, but you pushed it aside still not feeling that it was the right time.

The next couple days followed a similar path. You’d wake up, help Yoongi make breakfast, try to work for a little, and then you’d go find Yoongi and try to talk to him and get him to open up to you. He never said much but he’d nod or say a word here or there to let you know he was listening. Mae would always be amazed at how well Yoongi responded to you. After a while you’d give him some space and then join the two of dinner followed by tea and then you’d head off to bed.

On the fifth day you decided to go out and explore a little. You ended up at Taehyung’s Strawberry farm which was just up the road from the Inn. Taehyung or Tae as he told you to call him was a very kind and outgoing guy. The farm had been passed down in his family for six generations. He gave you a tour of the entire farm and introduced you to his farmhands/friends Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Jin was in charge of harvesting the strawberries and also coming up with new items to sell at the onsite bakery. Hoseok or Hobi as he was called was in charge of maintenance of the crops, things like making sure they got enough water but not too much water and pruning the plants where necessary. Namjoon was the bookkeeper. He kept track of orders and anything numbers related. Jungkook was the youngest of the four. According to Tae, he was the muscle of the group and would do various things around the farm that involved a lot of physical strength.

They all seemed like very sweet gentleman and made you feel very welcome from the start.

“So what brings you all the way out here? Most people try to stay closer to the main town this time of year.”, Jin asked setting a strawberry cream puff in front of you.

“I wasn’t able to get a room in town so I’m staying at The Interlude Inn.”

“I see. With Mae and Yoongi? How are they doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by and drop off a strawberry pie for them.”

“They seem to being doing well. They’ve been so hospitable.”

“Even Yoongi?”, Jungkook said taking a seat next to you. You noticed a hint of a chuckle in his question.

“Yes even Yoongi. He’s on the quiet side, but I think he’s starting to warm up to me a little bit.”

“Wow he must really like you then. I’ve been trying to get him to open up for years.”, Taehyung said walking over.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused as to why everyone always seems to think he’s some cold jerk.

He continued, “We’ve just been trying to get him to hang out with us for the last few years. I’ve offered him multiple jobs around here. We’ve invited him over for dinner or to go get drinks in town. Namjoon tried to set him up on a date with his sister. He just always turns and walks away without saying a word. We’ve kind of just given up.”

“Oh yeah I guess maybe I’m just special then.”, you said before taking another bite of the cream puff.

It was pretty late by the time you had gotten back to the inn. Jin had given you a ride back as it looked like there was an early spring thunderstorm about to hit. When you walked inside you set the strawberry pie on the counter. Mae had already gone to sleep, but Yoongi was sitting in the common area watching a basketball game. He looked so cozy wrapped up in a hoodie that was a little too big for him and a fluffy fleece blanket on his lap. Now that you thought about it he was always dressed very warmly. Sweatshirts, sweaters, or multiple layers all with long sleeves. You’ve never seen any skin other than his hands and neck and face. It was on the chilly side being that it was barely the beginning of the spring, but nothing that you thought warranted that kind of clothing constantly. It was odd to you, but nothing you wanted to question him about right now because maybe it was just a comfort thing for him you thought. Instead you walked over to the couch making your presence known so that you didn’t startle him.

“Mind if I join you?”, you asked. Silently he scooted over to make room and you took that as a yes. You watched the game for a few minutes trying to come up with something to say, but you really didn’t know much about basketball or sports in general.

“Is that Michael Jordan?”, you asked after the camera followed a player who had just scored a basket.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Lebron James?”

He shakes his head.

“Steph Curry?”

Again another head shake.

You chuckled, “Well those are the only basketball players I know so I give up.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the slightest smile from on his lips which you took as encouragement to continue.

“Oh so did he just score a touchdown?”, you asked. In reality you knew that was a completely different sport, but you were hoping that somehow this would get a little engagement on his part.

You looked at him expectantly noticing his cheeks heat up under your stare.

“Umm n-no that was a free throw, not a touchdown.”

“Hmm and a free throw is worth one or two points?”

“It’s w-worth one point.”

You didn’t want to over stress him out so you decided to give him some quiet and stop with the questions for a while.

The referee in the game blew his whistle and started making a bunch of hand gestures. You were about to lean over and ask about it when a bright flash of light shown through the windows followed by a loud clap of thunder. The floor beneath your feet seemed to shake from the force. Another flash of light lit up the room and some more thunder hit making even you jump a little.

“Wow that’s some storm.”, you said looking over at Yoongi only to be met with nothing.

“Yoongi?”, you question looking around the room wondering how he was able to get up and run so fast.

After standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen to see if maybe he had went in there you saw the fleece blanket he was holding earlier leaning up against the back of the couch and thanks to the added light from another lightning strike you noticed that the blanket was also covering a lump. Getting closer you saw little tufts of black hair poking out. Gently you reached and pulled the blanket down slightly. You could feel your heart breaking seeing him like this. Curled up in a ball with his hands over his ears and tears on his cheeks.

“Yoongi it’s okay. It’s just a thunderstorm.”, you said trying to soothe him. When your words didn’t seem to help you went to reach for his hand feeling him tense at your touch.

“No please don’t hurt me. Please.”, he cried out making you recoil. “Yoongi it’s Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me get you to be-.” You felt a hand on your should and found Mae looking down at you with a sad expression on her face. She bent down the best she could in her old age to get his attention and when he finally recognized her the tension seemed to leave his body, at least momentarily until another crack of thunder rang through the air.

Mae helped him up off the ground and you’d stayed m back watching as she helped him down the hall, his legs shaking ever so slightly. Just before they entered his room Mae turned to you and pointed towards the kitchen. You took the hint and went to get a couple cups of tea ready.

After about fifteen minutes she returned and took a seat next to you thanking you for the tea.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”, she sighed.

“No I just, I don’t, I…”, you couldn’t find the words. You knew it was slightly odd for a grown adult to be that petrified of a thunderstorm, but you knew there must be a reason. Judging by Mae’s reaction this seemed to be a common occurrence. You just didn’t know how to move forward without sounding rude.

“Mae, please forgive me if this comes off to forward or harsh, but has some thing happened to Yoongi in his past?”

She took a sip of tea before getting more comfortable in the chair and nodding her head.

“Yes dear. Yoongi, my sweet sweet Yoongi, has been through a lot. More than any person should have to especially at his young age. You see Yoongi’s father left a few weeks after he was born. Yoongi was born too early and was very small and sickly. His father didn’t want any part of his life. My daughter did the best she could with Yoongi. I helped whenever I could as well. She was such a loving mother. When Yoongi was about two years old she married a man who I didn’t necessarily approve of, but there was nothing I could do. She was an adult and she seemed happy. He quickly moved my daughter and Yoongi to the other side of the country. I only got to see them a couple times year. I started to have suspicions that something was wrong when Yoongi was four years old. I went to visit and noticed that my daughter and Yoongi both had old bruises. When I questioned it my daughter claimed that she tripped while carrying him and fell down some stairs. Then when Yoongi was six he told me how he had heard his mom and stepdad in their bedroom making lots of noise. His mom was yelling and there were loud bangs, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. I questioned her once again and she said that her and her husband must’ve just gotten too loud while in bed together and that she’d remind him in the future that they needed to be quieter. I wasn’t completely convinced, but I had no other proof.”

Mae took a long breath clear that this was hard for her to recall and you were starting to feel guilty for even asking.

She continued on, “When Yoongi was about seven his mom got very sick and unfortunately passed away. I tried to visit him more, but as time went on his step dad cut me off more and more. I tried getting a court involved, but he was considered his legal guardian and without any significant proof there was nothing they could do. So I tried to do what I could. Over time I noticed a change in Yoongi. He was sadder, seemed more down on himself. I rarely ever saw that smile that used to melt my heart. He was having a hard time at school. The friends he had stopped hanging out with him. Then one day when he was around thirteen he said something back to his stepdad and his stepdad beat him so badly the neighbors ended up calling the police because of the noise.”

She stopped to take a shaky breath. Tears forming in her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that you had started biting your bottom lip trying to stop your own tears from falling until the subtle taste of blood hit your tongue.

Once again she continued, “Thankfully his stepfather was arrested that night and eventually sentenced to forty five years in prison, but it was already too late and the damage was done. When I got to the hospital that night they started showing me different x-rays and scans and going over Yoongi’s injuries. It was worse than I had ever thought. There were old fractures that hadn’t healed correctly. Scars both fresh and old covered his body from where his stepfather would beat him with a tree branch or use his skin to put out his cigarettes. He had torn his shoulder at one point and because it was never properly taken care of he’s always in pain, even to this day. He had surgery to correct it, but it only helped a little. I cried in the hospital. He was released after a week and came to live here with me. I was taking him to therapy a couple times a week and he seemed to be getting on the right track. He was smiling more and getting a little more talkative. I had enrolled him in the high school here and he made a couple friends. I knew there’d always be a part of him that struggled, but I thought that maybe he was going to be able to move past all of this for the most part and go on to have a happy healthy life. When he was in his second to last year of high school there was going to be a big dance and after some convincing he asked a girl to go with him as a date and she said yes. So I got him a brand new suit and the day of the dance we went and picked out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I offered to drive him, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed by his grandma driving him around, you know how teenagers are. So I watched him walk out the door.”

Mae took a moment to composer herself by staring out the kitchen window. You in no way wanted to rush her.

She took another sip and then went on, “I was in the kitchen a little while later when I heard the front door swing open and slam back shut. I thought it was much too early for Yoongi to be home already and assumed it must be some guests so I cleaned myself up real quick and walked out to greet them, but instead…instead I found Yoongi with tears streaming down his cheeks and then I noticed his suit was covered in brightly colored paint. He still had the bouquet of flowers in his hand except they were now all damaged and dirty. He refused to tell me what happened and ran off to his room. Monday morning I went to the school and apparently the girl and some of her friends, including her actual date, were all waiting for Yoongi to show up at the school. When he got there they all poured cans of paint onto him and called him a freak and a monster. I was told that one of the other boys saw Yoongi’s scars when they were changing for gym class and started making fun of him for it. This girl had no intention of actually going to the dance with him and told him he was ugly and would never be loved because of the way he looked. I tried to have all of those kids reprimanded, but Yoongi refused to cooperate so the school said their hands were tied. He begged me to take him out of school and homeschool him instead which I did, but he’s been pretty much to himself ever since.”

By this point you were full on balling your eyes out. You hadn’t known him for very long, but you could just tell that he was such a sweet gentle person. You didn’t think there could possibly be any thing else that Mae could tell you, but she cleared her throat and went on,

“Honestly, I think the worst thing that ever happened to him was the letter he received from his biological father on his twenty first birthday. I actually still have the letter. I’ve been holding onto it because I think it would be beneficial for Yoongi to be the one to destroy it, but I don’t know how to bring it up to him.”

She slid the letter across the table to you. Shakily you opened it up and immediately noticed the tear smudged ink and you took a deep breath trying to compose yourself before diving in,

“To Yoongi,

You most likely have no idea who I am, but I am your biological father. I left not long after you were born and if my calculations are correct you should be twenty one years old today. You were born early, somehow I’m certain that was your mothers fault even though the doctors said it was not. Anyways, you were born very small and sick. The doctors did not know if you would make it and to be honest I spent most of the time hoping that you wouldn’t. I did not want the burden of having a son, especially a first born, that was weak and useless. I gave your mother an ultimatum, either abandon you and we will move on and have a child that will prosper and do well in life or she can keep you and I will leave. Obviously you see what she chose. I heard that your mother has passed away since then. She was an ignorant woman anyways, wasting her time with a child like you. I told her that you weren’t worth the time which has been proven by the fact that you still live with your grandmother working at that stupid inn. You’ll never be anything more than that. I don’t really know the point of this letter any more. I guess I’m just a little drunk and wanted to get this off my chest after all of these years. Yoongi, I do wish you well. Truly I do because I know deep down that you’ll never achieve it. With regret, Your Father.”

You don’t know at what point you went from crying to blood boiling anger, but it happened.

“What the actual fuck!”, you shouted slamming the letter down on the table. “Sorry, excuse my language.”, you said towards Mae suddenly feeling bad about your outburst. She chuckled, “Don’t worry dear. I said much much worse when I read that letter.”

You continued, “Seriously? Who does something like that? And to their own child on top of it? You walked out of his life let him be. That letter was completely unnecessary. I swear I’m gonna hunt him down and kill him myself.”

Mae shook her head, “No need Y/N. After he dropped the letter off at the post office he drunkingly crashed his car into a tree. Killed him instantly. Unfortunately though, Yoongi never really recovered from this letter. He’s been very reserved and depressed ever since. He’s refused therapy or any help that I offer. I’ve tried for many years to get him to make friends or find a partner or just get out of the house and experience life. I won’t be here forever and I want him to find someone and just be happy for the rest of his time.”

While you would normally never wish harm on anyone it did bring you some joy knowing that his father was no longer around and could never hurt Yoongi again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to drop all of this on you, but I thought you should get an explanation for what you saw earlier and why he is the way that he is. Yoongi can be kind of jumpy around loud noises and sudden movements and things like that. Please don’t run away from him. I’ve seen him smile more in the week you’ve been here than he has in months. He just sees something in you. I can tell. Call it grandmas intuition if you will. I know you’ll soon have to go back home, but I’m really hoping that maybe you’ll keep in touch with him. No pressure of course. I wouldn’t blame you for not doing it, but I just really think you could be a big positive in his life.”, she said before walking her mug over to the sink.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I’m sure it was difficult to recount everything.”, you said almost in a whisper. She smiled before laying a hand on your shoulder, “Get some rest Y/N. I’m gonna head off to bed myself. These old bones are tired.”

As you laid in bed you could still hear the faint rumblings of thunder from miles away. You wondered what Yoongi was doing. You hoped he was peacefully sleeping in his bed, but you knew most like that wasn’t the case. It pained your heart to think about what he’d been through. No one deserved to ever have those things happen to them and you decided in that moment that you were going to try and help him. You yourself felt the connection that Mae keeps talking about and you were starting think that maybe things do happen for a reason.

The following morning when you woke up your body felt sore from the stress you experienced. Your first reaction was to go and find Yoongi, but you also knew that he was most likely going to feel embarrassed about what had happened the night before so you opted to take a seat at the desk and try to get some work done. After about an hour and only a couple paragraphs written the smell of bacon started to fill the air and the sound of your stomach grumbling in hunger followed not long after. In the kitchen you found Mae at the stove tending to the bacon. “Would you like some coffee Y/N?”, she smiled. You nodded happily taking the cup from her. Yoongi was already sitting at the table peeling some carrots and potatoes for what you assumed would become part of dinner later. You tried your best to act causally as you took a seat a chair away from him to give him some space.

Mae walked over and set a plate of eggs down in the middle of the table along with the bacon. After Yoongi cleared the vegetables that he was working on the three of you began eating your breakfast.

Mae peaked over at you and with a sly grin she began, “Y/N, thank you for bringing that strawberry pie from Taehyung’s last night. I already snuck a piece as I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh you’re very welcome. It did look delicious.”, you replied waiting to see where she was going with this.

“I’m going to make them a big pot of pork stew. It’ll be a good hearty meal for them while they work on the farm. I was thinking that maybe you and Yoongi could take it over to them when it’s finished.”

Now you get it. It was an easy yes for you. You really did like all of the boys from the farm and it would be a chance to spend a little time with Yoongi, but you couldn’t help but notice how red his cheeks had gotten once again and his shoulders visibly tensed. You weren’t going to force him by any means.

“Uh yeah sure that’s no problem for me. I can go alone though if Yoongi doesn’t want to go.”

“Yoongi would you be okay taking some stuff over to the farm with Y/N? For me please.”, Mae asked placing her hand on top of his.

“Okay.”, he whispered with his eyes focused on his lap.

A few hours later your little cart was packed up with a large pot of the stew and some fresh bread and jam. You and Yoongi headed off towards the farm. The first half of the walk was silent other than a few birds or rustle of leaves here or there.

“I’m sorry about last night. If I had known it was going to storm I would’ve stayed in my room to not disturb you.”, he spoke startling you out of your thoughts.

“Yoongi you don’t have to be sorry. And please don’t ever hide who you are from anyone. If they can’t handle who you are then they don’t deserve you in their life.”

He nodded in understanding pulling on his ear. A nervous habit of his. Feeling a little brave you reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze. He jumped slightly, but for a few seconds he let you hold him before removing his touch from yours. You were going to take that as a win.

Entering the strawberry farm you were quickly greeted by Jin and Namjoon. “Hi Y/N, didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”, Jin smiled.

“Mae wanted us to bring over some stew and bread as a thank you for the pie.”, you responded handing over the items from the cart. Jungkook appears out of nowhere excitedly grabbing the bread and jam from you.

“Jeeze I haven’t seen this kid all day, but as soon as food is involved he magically appears.”, Jin rolled his eyes. Taehyung came walking over after noticing your arrival. He wrapped you in a big hug and began making small talk. You could feel Yoongi’s presence behind you. He was almost using your body to shield himself away from everyone.

Taehyung gestured for you to follow him, “Y/N and Yoongi come on into the bakery. We’ve got a new strawberry milk latte we just put on the menu and I want your opinion. Personally I think it’s wayyyy too sweet, but Jin thinks it could be award winning.”

Jin scoffed, “You don’t even like coffee so your opinion means nothing.”

“I think it’s amazing.”, Jungkook added.

“You’d drink lake water and say it was good if we put a flavored milk in it.”, Namjoon quipped.

Chuckling at the argument going on infront of you it took about twelve steps before you realized your shadow was not behind you. When you turned you saw Yoongi was already walking back towards the path to the inn. Namjoon came up behind you and gave you a nudge in Yoongi’s direction and you knew what he meant. Jogging up next to him you reached for his arm, but opted not to as you’d quickly learned touch is not his first choice.

“Hey where are you going? Come hang out with us at the bakery.”, you said once you caught up to him.

He simply shook his head and kept walking.

“They’re really nice guys. They were asking about you yesterday. I think you’d really like them if you gave them a chance.”

Still he continued walking in silence. Without thinking you reached out to grab his arm just in an attempt to stop him, but he flinched.

“No. I just want to be left alone. Please.”, he whimpered near tears.

Instantly you backed off with your hands in the air to give him space and show that you weren’t going to touch him.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I won’t force you to hang out with them. I just wanted you to get to know them a little. I think it would be good for you.”

He ignored you and began walking back home again. You sent Taehyung a quick text apologizing for your sudden departure and letting him know you’d stop by on a different day to try the latte before you left. Yoongi walked surprisingly fast so you had to go back into a light jog to catch up. You decided to hang back a little and not walk right next to him so you weren’t suffocating him. You pretended not to notice him peeking back to look at you every once in a while.

As you walked you noticed a few cherry blossom trees just over a hill. You’d completely forgot about the trees and made yourself a mental note to go see them before you left Holly Falls. When you finally made it back to the inn Yoongi was waiting for you at the front door.

“You didn’t have to walk back with me. I’m an adult and I could walk back myself.”, he said with a pout.

“I know. I just wanted to come back with you.”

“But what about hanging out with them?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll go back another time. I’d rather hang out with you anyways.” His face instantly turned a deep shade of red.

“So tell me, what does Yoongi like to do in his spare time?”, you questioned.

“I’d rather just be alone to be honest.”

You wanted to push him harder, but you were concerned with what the outcome might be so instead you gave him a smile and watched as be walked inside letting the door close behind him. Dropping down to take a seat on the steps you let out a long sigh. This was going to be more difficult than you had imagined and to make matters worse you were only supposed to stay for another week.

“Excuse me miss, are there any rooms available?”, someone spoke making you to jump. Since your head was hanging you hadn’t noticed the young man walk up to the front door of the inn. You took in his appearance and noticed how exceptionally handsome he was.

“I just came from the main part of the town and there are no rooms available so it was suggested that I come over here.”, he continued.

“Oh um well I think there might be a couple rooms left, but I’m just a guest as well. If you head inside the check in desk is in the corner and they can help you out.”

The handsome man held out his hand for you, “Sorry I didn’t mean to assume anything. My name is Jimin by the way.”

You smiled graciously accepting his hand, “Y/N and no worries. Hopefully you can get a room. It would be nice to have another person around here to talk to and stuff.”

He chuckled, “Well I guess I better get in there then and see about a room.”

You gently leaned to the side to give home more space to get by before you returned back to wondering how you could get Yoongi to open up to you a little more without making him too uncomfortable.

After he had walked inside Yoongi took a deep breath and after a quick heated discussion with himself going over all the pros and cons he decided that giving you twenty minutes of his time to talk would be good for him and maybe over time he could work up the courage to actually spend time with you, maybe even like a date before you left. The thought of that made his head spin. Just as he was about to open the door to find you he heard your conversation with Jimin and how you said you were glad there was going to be someone else at the inn. He felt his heart crack at that. In Yoongi’s brain you were already done with him just like everyone else in his life, except his grandmother of course. He always managed to chase everyone away. He quickly accepted that he was a lost cause so he scurried off to be alone in his room before you or the new guest could see him. Once in his room he heard you introduce Jimin to Mae. Your voice sounded excited as you showed Jimin to his room just down the hall from yours.

Yoongi sat on his bed squeezing his favorite stuffed animal, a blue koala bear named Koya, a gift from his mother just before she had passed.

He heard you let out a loud laugh at something funny Jimin had said and he curled up on his bed feeling the tears start to fall.

He hated that he was like this. He wanted to be what he would consider normal, but there was this little part of his brain that always reminds him of what he’s been through and how many times he been told how unwanted and unloved he is. Even if he did manage to speak to you he’d never want to burden you with having someone like him in your life. He needs a lot of mental care and you don’t deserve to have someone that week. So he chose to lie in his bed squeezing his Koya a little closer every time he heard you laugh in the hallway wishing it was him that was making react like that instead. Your laugh was just as pretty as you are he thought. With each passing minute he could feel the panic setting in more and more and he eventually used the koala bear to muffle the sobs leaving his body not wanting to disturb you any further.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

So, fun detail I just noticed about Megamind:

Famously, throughout the film Megamind mispronounces certain words, most notably: "hello" ("olo"), "Metro City" ("Metrocity") and "school" ("shool").

Like many fans, I'd attributed this and other oddities— like not knowing what a window is— to his unconventional upbringing and general social isolation. His speech sounds a lot like the way people pronounce words that they've only seen written down, so maybe he just hasn't had enough practice talking to other people out loud.

Lovely theory, very angsty, makes sense that this would be what the film-makers intended.

Except…

You know who doesn't seem to have this problem with pronunciation? And who in fact attempts to correct Megamind's pronunciation of various words more than any other character?

Fucking Minion.

Minion was there for literally every step of Megamind's childhood. They were raised on Earth together and went through seemingly the exact same experiences. Yet somehow Minion came out the other end knowing how to answer the phone and what a window is and why people use codes, while Megamind didn't.

And I am just so fascinated as to why.

Top three theories:

1. Megamind isn't actually mispronouncing words due to lack of practice, but rather for some other reason.

Maybe there's something up with his ability to hear certain sounds, or his alien anatomy makes it harder to pronounce them. Maybe he's neurodivergent (I mean, he definitely is, but maybe that fact is affecting his speech).

2. Megamind is mispronouncing things due to lack of practice, but there's something about Minion that makes him need less practice to pick up new languages.

Possibly as part of their protective role, his species has advanced language acquisition programmed in so they can act as translators. Else, while Minion and Megamind landed on Earth together, it's not 100% clear whether they were actually at the same age/developmental stage when that happened. If Minion was an adult (or older child) when he became fluent in English, he might have consciously focused more on accurate pronunciation than Megamind did.

3. Megamind is mispronouncing things due to lack of practice, but Minion is getting more practice than him.

This is… honestly the theory with the most evidence behind it. Like, we know that Minion isn't in jail at the start of the film, so he's clearly mot spending the same amount of time in solitary confinement that Megamind is.

He also appears to be in charge of providing Megamind with the resources needed to carry out his plans, which would presumably require him to communicate with scrap merchants, crocodile breeders and Romanian outlet store owners (among others) on the regular.

And like… if he's not getting thrown in jail whenever Megamind does, and Megamind is spending a fair amount of time on the inside, then Minion has to be doing something to pass the time. He's clearly a bit of an extrovert, and seems to take more pleasure in interacting with people than Megamind does.

It seems unlikely that he'd spend all his time sitting in the Evil Lair waiting for Megamind contact him or escape. So what does he do?

I find it both sweet and hilarious to imagine that Minion actually does have his own social circle outside of Megamind.

Minion goes to DnD on the second Tuesday of every month.

Minion gets advice on making costumes for Megamind from his weekly sewing circle.

Minion has been going to university online for the past eight years and is currently working towards his PhD in Marine Biology.

Minion is a semi-regular at Metrocity Night Clubs.

Minion does volunteer work sometimes with kids at the Metrocity hospital.

Megamind has barely any idea about any of this. Like, he knows Minion goes places at various times.

He knows that when he's rampaging through the streets Minion will sometimes stop to wave hello to various people that Megamind has never met. He's seen the half-orc paladin costume that Minion made for DnD.

But he's never really asked about it, and Minion has never seen the need to tell him. So long as Minion's happy, Megamind's happy, and so long as Megamind's happy, Minion is happy.

Meanwhile Roxanna, post-movie, has to grapple with the fact that sometimes she'll go to visit her boyfriend only for him to ask if they can go out for dinner instead because Minion's book club is meeting in the Evil Lair, and he's been gently encouraged not to come back after what he said to Helen about her (wrong) opinions on To Kill A Mockingbird.

[aurora-starwars]

Ooh I just saw a cute little AU prompt I wanna see if it can be used! So it’s the soulmate au where the reader shares eye color in one eye with their soulmate. I’d love it if you could do an angsty fluffy Anakin x reader would mate au with Anakin in his revenge of the sith era? Also, I was wondering if you write for Stargate or know any writer who does on here? There’s not enough Stargate love and it makes me sad 😞. Thanks lovely!

The Look of Terror In Your Eyes

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader; Soulmate au!!!!

Summary: Reader is one of padmé’s handmaidens, and while joining her on Mustafar, she finds a familiar pair of eyes. Eyes that shouldn’t be as red as they are…

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: fire, sobbing, sith, evil anakin, star wars stuff, related violence (not really) Idk, you let me know…

A/n: Thank you so much for waiting and requesting! Took a while to get out but I was feeling the angst after ep 7 of The Last Of Us. 😭😭😭 Also, sorry, I don’t know any writers for stargate! i had to look it up 😭😭, but if anyone has any recommendations, comment them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, sorry for the long break y’all!!! <33333333

P.s: I love the soulmate au trope!!!!! <3

Masterlist

[Name] always loved the idea of a soulmate. The mere thought of a perfect person for her, a soul that perfect for hers sounded marvellous. Two hearts connected by the grace of the universe, or as the Jedi believe, the force. Many people debated the origin of this special connection between organisms; specifically humanoids. Some thought it was their planet’s deity that blessed–and in some cases, cursed– the living beings with companionship, others thought it wasn’t real, that it was all just some trick of a decease or parasite. But most have concluded and agreed that it was the work of the seemingly magic that holds the universe together; the force.

[Name] was a big fan of any theory or story she could hear about soulmates. Free time was spent asking the people around her about their second eye. She always wondered how other’s knew which eye was whose, and she was always met with, “You only know when you meet them, when you lock eyes.” [Name] often liked to imagine what her soulmate looked like. Which eye would be her soulmate’s and which would be her own? What would her soulmate look like with a body around her matching eyes? Would they be brunette? Blond? Would they be a man? Be a woman? What would it look like when they eventually locked eyes? Would their eyes fill with the amount of love [Name] knew that she would feel for them?

Thoughts of her special someone flooded her mind every moment she had time to think. And as much as she loved to think about it, she hardly had time too. [Name] was a busy girl as she was a handmaiden of Padmé and often was travelling, doing one of the other girls make up or switching places with Padmé in order to keep her safe. The senator was the girls main priority and honestly, she was their pride and joy.

This busy job didn’t keep [Name]’s thoughts from wandering at night and like a magnet, her mind would gravitate to her soulmate. She only began to think more about it after a trip to Naboo, where [Name] learned of two of Padmé’s previous handmaidens who were soulmates and had met each other through the former Queen’s protection program. While a wonderful story, [Name] couldn’t help but think about if she would meet her soulmate on the job, if ever. It was a large universe and more often than not, soulmates die before they are ever able to meet the soul destined for them.

Days in the senate were quiet and beyond mundane. And while every once and a while Padmé and her causes would get a win, those times were few and far in-between. Majority of days were spent in the rooms that were provided for the senators, pouring over documents and finding information on how to fix the wrongs of the galaxy, diplomatically.

But these issues are never resolved overnight, and after years of tireless hours of dedicated work within the senate, [Name] found herself less and less hopeful of the wonderful life she pictured outside of the senate. She dreamed of a life with her soulmate, back on Naboo, where she could be with her family and friends. Somewhere nice, somewhere where she could live out the rest of her life out in peace surrounded by everything she has ever loved.

Those dreams always seemed silly once she was sat in the senate, watching over Padmé time and time again, no hope that this life would cease. That the war would end and they could go back home once they finally had did all they could in repairing the senate. That [Name] could finally live out her happily ever after with the one she dreams of, but knows nothing of. Nothing but what one of their eye’s looks like.

Although soulmates could come as romantic or platonic, [Name] never cared. [Name] would be happy to not be lonely. To have someone by her side for the rest of her life. That was all [Name] dreamed of. Not being alone.

That was why she took the job after all. Of course, when the former Queen calls, it is hard to decline the honour of protecting the one and only Padmé Amidala. But that deal becomes a whole lot sweeter when there is a promise of a group of girls accompanying you. A promise that you will not be alone. That was very incising for [Name].

And while most of the senate meetings were snore inducing and late nights reading and rereading documents was beyond tedious, it was made incredibly better by the girls who had also agreed to lay their lives of the line for Padmé. They had become a sisterhood of sorts, a unbreakable friendship formed between them and there was an unspoken understanding that while they worked with Padmé, they were in for anything. That meant life or death, they stood together in order for Padmé to prosper.

That security meant everything to [Name]. In fact, that was everything to [Name]. Since she joined Padmé on her trip to Coruscant all of those years ago, [Name] has practically forgotten who she used to be, and was convinced that a part of her lied in this job. And that part would be ripped from her if she ever left the job, and she would be left alone.

Her dreams of meeting her soulmate never died though. In fact, that is what got her through every day. Every day that she spent with the people she loved so much, every day she dreaded them being taken from her. Thoughts and dreams of a perfect world, with her perfect person. No war, no slavery, no crime, just two souls meeting and living out the rest of their lives, just one day at a time.

But as she stood in front of the mirror of the fresher, all of those thoughts flew out the window. Traveling with Padmé as her escort, [Name] ended up on a J-type Naboo star skiff headed towards Mustafar. [Name] didn’t know why they were going to Mustafar or what would be waiting for them on the old mining planet, but she did know that she wasn’t ready.

It didn’t matter what met them on Mustafar, because all that really mattered to [Name] in the moment, was her reflection. Or more specifically, her right eye that had turned a gnarly, fresh blood red, with irises the colour of acid.

It only took a matter of moments before [Name] found tears running down her face. She pulled at the skin of her cheeks, moving in closer to look if what she had seen was right before closing her eyes. It was a vicious loop; pull, look, cover. She wasn’t sure how long this went on for, finding herself heaving on the floor what felt like a century later. What was she going to do?

She had heard of Sith eyes. Many had, especially if one had spent any time on Coruscant. The tales of Jedi going to the dark side were relatively popular in the upper-levels of Coruscant. The nasty evil that had become a cataclysmic emergency in galaxy had ruthlessly killed millions with no regard for life. That was of course until the Jedi Order vanquished them. The nasty plague that was the Sith had been thought to have been defeated, extinct, as of many, many years ago. But yet, her [Name] was, with her right eye as bright as the sun, glowing so bright, it was as if it was haunting her.

What does this mean?

Am I going to die?

Am I Sith?

Will I hurt innocent people?

Am I evil?

Thoughts infiltrated her mind without mercy and terror tore through her brain like a violent hurricane. Her mind was spinning.

Millions of lives have been lost at the hands of the Sith. Millions of innocent caught in the reign of terror the Sith brought where ever they went. How could [Name] be like them?

Then it hit her like a freighter.

Her soulmate.

Her soulmate, the one she had dreamed and fantasized about her whole life, a Sith. Pure evil, working for causes that only bring harm to the universe. Lying on the floor, [Name]’s sobs wracked through her body, the only rest she got is when she started to violently leave heave before more tears and loud sobs found their way from her lungs.

It made sense though, she was never a Jedi, never force sensitive. So why would her pair of eyes be the distinct aggressive colour of the force sensitive Sith?

The Sith wasn’t her, so that only left her soulmate. Her wonderful, beautiful soulmate of which she has never met. And as she curls deeper into herself, [Name] questions whether she would actually meet them.

And whether or not she wants too.

Just as [Name]’s sobs and shook started to subside, [Name] felt the familiar jolt of the ship landing. A cool chill shot up her back as she made her way to her feet. Looking into the mirror once more, she found that both the eyes were back to how she remembered them to be. What they had always been her entire life. Wiping her eyes, [Name] tried to clear all evidence of her tears and break down.

[Name] closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. The sound of the ships engine shutting off reminded her of where she was. Right, Mustafar; the place where Padmé was rushing to in order to help a friend. Letting out a breath, she made a promise to herself to help Padmé out with whatever.

[Name] stood next right next to Padmé as the hatch lowered and the red hazed glow of the lava coated planet overwhelmed her vision. As she was momentary blinded, Padmé ran down the ramp towards a cloaked figure. From the distance, [Name] couldn’t hear much but she could make out a faint conversation as she slowly approached.

“I saw your ship, what are you doing out here?” The brunette man spoke as he leaned into the hug Padmé was giving him, before pulling away and holding on to the sides of her arms.

“I was worried about you, Obi-wan told me terrible things,” Padmé looked up at him, and from her tone of voice, something [Name] knew very well, it was evident that Padmé was very upset.

“What things?” He questioned, not harshly, but certainly not in a tone of voice one should use with a senator.

“He said that you’ve turned to the dark side. That you…” Padmé began, before pausing, struggling to find the strength within her to whisper the words.

“Killed younglings,” She muttered in horror. Terror was set in her eyes, but there was not quiver of disbelief in her tone, no indicator to [Name] that this man wouldn’t do such a thing.

“Obi-wan is trying to turn you against me,” The man spoke after a moment, his voice deep with the familiar feel of unnerve that Padmé and her handmaidens have become so used to in the senate.

“He cares about you, Anakin,” Padmé argued, although it didn’t sound like an argument, more like a plea. “He wants to help you.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrowed, “Nothing can save me, only my new powers can do that.”

Padmé took a step back and [Name] took two steps forward.

“At what cost?” Padmé looked into his eyes once again, and as [Name] could see, she was begging. “You’re a good person. Don’t do this.”

“I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of,” Anakin's gaze was intense, his eyes narrowed on Padmé as if at any point she would stab him and run away.

“I am more powerful than the chancellor. I-I can over throw him,” Anakin began taking steps forward and quickly Padmé started taking steps back.

“And together you and I can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be,” Anakin stops moving, watching Padmé eagerly in hopes that she will agree.

Taking another step back, Padmé shakes her head, “I don’t believe what I am hearing. Obi-wan was right. You’ve changed.”

Anakin scuffs, shaking his head before raising his finger, “I don’t wanna hear any more about Obi-wan. The Jedi turned against me, don’t you turn against me,” That sounded like a command.

“I don’t know you anymore. Anakin, you’re my best friend, you are like my brother,” Padmé plead, her voice broken and littered with heartbreak. It might not have sounded like it, but those few words meant everything to Padmé. Those words were like a code that only one of her handmaidens could crack. That [Name] could crack.

The words whispered of betrayal, of heart break and of a familiar love that she cannot part with. She truly loved Anakin, the sister in her seemed to shine through as she spoke with the man.

“You’re going down a path I can’t follow.”

“Because of Obi-wan?”

“Because of what you’ve done,” Padmé sobbed, her voice raising as she neared her breaking point. [Name] finally made her way behind Padmé as she spoke again, “Because of what you plan to do.”

And as [Name] laid her hand on Padmé’s shoulders, bring her back slightly, Anakin’s eyes were back on the ship. [Name] rubbed Padmé’s arms gently in attempts to comfort the distressed girl and as she did so, it was almost as if she could feel the rage from the man behind her. [Name] tried to pay no mind, busying herself with the sobbing girl before her. Padmé’s head raised, looking up from the spot she marked on the ground, and gasped as she made eye contact with you.

“Liar!” Anakin yelled, bring the attention back to him. And when [Name] eyes drifted over to the simmering man, she found herself looking into a very familiar set of eyes.

Her eyes.

The same pair of eyes that stare back at her in her reflection every day, mirrored.

A gasp left [Name]’s throat, bringing his attention to her. As his gaze connected with hers, his eyes faded from one red, and one of [Name]’s to just infectious red. A wave of comfort went through [Name]’s body as she stared into the eyes that she has been dying to meet.

But instead of relief, or joy, [Name] only felt gutted. The harsh heat from the surrounding lava did nothing to sooth the soaring stinging in her eyes as she watches the man before her look behind her again. She hardly even notices when another man, a Jedi, passes her. As angry words were exchanged and she found herself losing focus, standing by the side as she watches the Jedi and the Sith duel to the death.

Her world just flipped its axis, leaving her body to adjust. Emotionally, physically. The biological reaction to meeting one’s soulmate was to release serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin, all chemicals in one’s brain responsible for happiness. But in this moment, those hormones were only adding to the increasing feeling of emptiness growing in her heart.

She had just watched her supposed soulmate turn to the dark side before her eyes. Choosing to assist the death of others rather than assist the quality of living for others. Everything [Name] and Naboo has ever help to fix in the senate could be destroyed in a snap of her own soulmate’s fingers.

How was she going to live her life know what she was tied to? Would he come back to the light? Would he die? Would she?

Or would she give up everything she has ever known for the chance of a life partner? Someone who will never leave her.

[Name] drops to her knees, a suppressed sob managed its way to the surface, bringing sharp tears from her eyes.

The famous Anakin Skywalker, former Jedi knight, [Name]’s soulmate, leaving tears in her eyes. And as she watches the blurry two duel, she finds that not only is there tears in her eyes, but also terror.

A/n: I got a little carried away with this, and it might have gotten a little off topic, but I hoped you liked it. I haven’t edited it yet, but I will get to it! Thank you so much for reading and waiting!!! <333333 Let me know what you think! Love y’all to the stars!

Master-list

Taglist: @luvlykrispy

[pink-onyx-au]

[Jump to the Episode Master List]

Nap time! Thank you everyone for your continued support and interaction! I adore it and it adds so much more to the AU than you could know. This is a heads up on some minor down-time for the blog while I rest up and prepare the next episode.

Notes and asks are still open and encouraged during this time! Bored and want to chat? Send me a message!

To see some WIP, storyboard previews, doodles, shitposts, and other projects I’m working on, along with a healthy amount of 3am memes, head over to my trash fire blog, Ceephor’s Shit Show. The "pink onyx au" tag will filter everything for you, along with showing you fabulous fan art made by others that I just love to pieces.

Speculation and theories are encouraged! The comic is designed as close to the show’s logic as I could muster, which means many secrets are staring right at you, provided you know what to look for! Just be kind to one another.

Comic FAQ:

What is this? Pink Onyx AU is a Steven Universe AU focused on interactions between Steven and Jasper and is intended to be read after you have finished Steven Universe Future, as it contains many many spoilers for the series. If you have watched it already, great! Welcome! The goal is to bring you a Jasper redemption arc that we couldn’t get due to time and cooperate restraints on the Crewniverse. I hope you enjoy!

I do not own these characters or their likenesses except for the single fluffy thembo fusion I created for the story. This is just a fan comic.

Comic is PG-13 for some angsty themes, minor blood, violence, and gem-cussing.

When do you post? Typically when you see this post pinned, I’m on a bit of a break, but when Nyx wakes up (this post goes away) the comic is due to be released 1 page at a time at 7am EST most days. I try for a daily release. Sometimes I skip a day if I’m behind. Episode release dates are always announced ahead of time by a few weeks.

Is this a romantic ship AU between Jasper and Steven? Nope, more like an aunt and her nephew trying to figure it all out. No romance between these two here.

Is your Tapas updated at the same time? Nope, tumblr comes first, and the tumblr will always have bonus content which Tapas will not. The Tapas for this updates after the tumblr version is completed. Usually same day or within a day.

Curious about the characters? Check below the cut for more a detailed FAQ about the inner workings of the story. Love you all! See you soon! 🧡💕❤️

FAQ’s about the characters generated via interactive asks:

What kind of fusion is Pink Onyx? Are they good or bad? Pink Onyx is a fusion of a protagonist and an antagonist, so their alliance is yet unknown, but they have Steven’s good heart and Jasper’s loyal nature. They also have Steven and Jasper’s flaws, so they can be volatile and emotionally explosive at times, too.

What are Pink Onyx’s pronouns? Onyx likes they/them, but also answers to he/him and she/her, especially when Steven or Jasper is dominant over one another. They also seem to take on a fluid role and prefer a she/her when in a caretaker status. They dislike it/its.

What does Pink Onyx sound like? Personally, I hear them as a youthful, masculine tone. Like Steven if a little older. But I also enjoy when people say they hear them as a gruff, Amazonian-type feminine. I enjoy and endorse both.

Do Jasper and Steven enjoy being fused to one another? For now, it is a struggle, but they enjoy what the other brings to the fusion even if they won’t say it.

Does Pink Onyx need to eat and do human things? If so, do they enjoy it? They don’t need to do them, but they do feel the discomfort without them. Things like breathing, eating, and sleeping are optional for Onyx, but they will become quite irritable if not allowed to do them. They greatly enjoy sleeping and trying new foods.

What does Jasper think about having human organs when fused? She’s pretty grossed out by the idea of organic matter going into her mouth and coming out of other places. The heart beating and lungs breathing she can feel for the first time, and it is highly strange for her to experience.

What is Pink Onyx’s favorite food? They adore anything watermelon flavored and Cookie-cat ice cream products

Does Pink Onyx have any special fusion powers? They do, and as they learn about themselves, more powers seem to come out. Each of their base component appears to be enhanced in a unique way. They have Pink Diamond at their core, so the destructive potential is also there.

Why is Steven hiding Pink Onyx from others? This AU occurs directly after the events of "I Am My Monster", so Steven is very emotionally, and mentally, raw. He fears judgement for running back to Jasper, who in the past, was part of so much trauma he already endured.

Pink Onyx seems to know nothing about human culture and gem culture despite being a fusion. What’s going on? Jasper and Steven agreed to fuse, but they have yet to open up to one another about much else. The fusion exists because they agree to do so, but Jasper won’t open up about her emotions, and Steven is so sensitive yet that he is not sharing because he knows Jasper won’t want to hear it. This causes Onyx to be unable to access both of their memories easily, but they can bring it out with enough effort.

[lowkeyrobin]

reader has had a crush on Rory since they were kids when they kissed (for practice ofc) but rory just has eyes for Erica and it breaks reader's heart but is still supportive cause as long as rory is happy so are they and SOMETHING happens which means reader is slowly dying and rory doesn't realizes his feeling until it's too late and reader dies in his arms.....

holy shit Alex you are evil. when I said angsty mbav I didn't realize you took that personally 😭🙏 /lh /pos

RORY KEANER ; you don't know what you have until you lose it

summary ; you like rory, but he doesn't reciprocate

warnings ; language, death, talk of throwing up, influenced by some music bc I was listening to sleep token LMAO

track ; take me back to eden ; sleep token

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

The only good thing about living in Ontario, Canada, was your friend group, the Supernatural Squad. Although you were just the comedic relief, you were the most reasonable and level-headed. You were still a staple to the group. You weren't very supernatural, however. Just an ordinary human who happened to be friends with a bunch of vampires, a witch/wizard, Benny couldn't decide on a damn label, and a seer.

You and Rory and Benny and Ethan were the two duos of the group that'd been together the longest. Benny and Ethan met in middle school, and you and Rory met in 4th or 5th grade when he moved to White Chapel. Sarah and Erica met in their freshman year, having been bonded over the lack of friends and their good grades in English and history classes.

You and Rory were a different kind of close. In every universe, you knew you'd met each other, one way or another. He was the funny, dim-witted vampire who was still a geek even through his transformation into puberty and vampirism. You, on the other hand, remain the second half of his comedy troupe, the smart and level-headed companion he needed to keep him mentally stable through all these new, weird things he was going through. He'd forever be 15 while you grew older, something you weren't too worried about right now.

You remembered like it was yesterday when you shared a first kiss for "practice." It was practice, really, Rory wanted to know how to kiss before he tried asking Erica out. However, for you, that was the problem. You didn't want it to be practice for him to be able to woo over Erica.

There was no doubt that Erica, the tall, blonde, vampire, was hot. Hell, if you weren't already head over heels for the younger blonde, you'd totally date her. But, that was the whole thing, he had googly eyes for Erica and you just solemnly looked at him with love stuck in yours like a curse.

But, of course, Rory hadn't learned about the phrase "you don't know what you have until you lose it." He wasn't expecting to lose you, nor was he aware that he even had you wrapped around his finger.

During the final fight with Vice Principal Stern, you'd gotten hurt, and hid it from your friends ; you saved White Chapel for good, ridding the town of evil. You didn't want to sour the mood about a wound that would heal itself, and you didn't want your friends worrying about something so small that'd disappear in time.

Stern hit you with a purplish magenta light-beam from his staff, leaving a very painful, burn-looking wound on your side. Over time, it didn't heal like you hoped it would, if anything it only looked worse, like your skin was decaying.

You had it wrapped up nearly 24/7 to prevent infection, the grey-ish skin was pruney and nasty looking from the amount of moisture. You'd only been living through the pain thanks to a lot of Tylenol, which you probably took a little bit too much of sometimes on accident. The center of the wound was a weird purple color, like a bruise, and it branched off like veins almost. It ran down your hip and up your torso, a grey color, acting as if you were a rotting corpse or something.

The theory was that it'd heal over time or completely disappear after a way since Stern was gone. But obviously, those were both incorrect.

You touch the wound, feeling a sharp pain radiate through the area as you pull your fingers away with a grimace. Your next idea was to ask Benny for a potion or something to help it go away. I mean, he had to have had some wound-dissolving spell or potion laying around somewhere, he was a witch for Christ's sake. It shouldn't be too hard to just ask for one.

That was easier said than done, however. He and Ethan wanted to know what it was for before he made it, and they wouldn't stop pressing after you said it was nothing. They eventually figured you out though, having been the first to notice and point out the veins spreading up to your collarbone and shoulders while you were all hanging out at Ethan's after school.

You kept telling them you were just tired and you had a cold, etcetera etcetera, the past few months, but after a while, they started to wonder why you were only looking worse. Then they persuaded you to just show them so they could help. You complied, showing them the wound you acquired from the final battle with Vice Principal Stern.

Ethan is the first to speak, quickly questioning you, "Dude, when and where did you get that?"

"Fighting Stern a couple of months ago." You shrug nonchalantly as you try your best to force your eyes open to stay awake, "Look, I just need something to make this heal or disappear, okay?"

Benny and Ethan share a worried look, barely able to look at your wound without cringing in disgust and the pain they felt for you.

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡° ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

Within another agonizing week, Sarah, Erica, and of course, Rory, had found out as well. So much for secrets.

All that week, no amount of drugs or spells or potions could help your condition whatsoever. You would frequently throw up and would have to skip class to go to the nurses office or sit in the bathroom while your stomach twisted and turned inside of you. Rory tried helping you as much as he could, carrying your things and flying you straight home after school, but it didn't help much, neither did the magical help from Benny and his grandma, it was like you were immune to it at this point.

You lay in bed on your side, a trashcan accompanying you for any biohazards. The veins now climbed up your neck, your shoulders, and down your legs, your eyes were made heavy by suitcase sides bags under your eyes, it felt like your eyes were swollen, yet they weren't. Rory sits beside you, one hand rubbing your shoulder as you mindlessly babble on, his other hand holding an ice pack to your forehead as you experience heat flashes.

The four other teens stand outside your closed bedroom door, trying to think of any ways to help you. They wanted to convince your parents to take you to the doctors, but how would you explain the massive wound on your side. And how would you explain that you were now a walking corpse acting like a shitty father after a trip to the bar?

"Y'know, Rory, I've always liked you, like, like-liked you" You giggle, ruffling his hair. "You're adorable"

Rory lightly smiles, not taking your words to heart.

"Really, please listen to me, R" You quickly place your hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, "I like you. And I know you don't like me back and shit, you like Erica and you're constantly talking about it, but I want it off my chest before this stupid thing probably kills me or starves me out of my body"

The blonde boy blinks a few times, and wraps you in a hug. "I'm sorry" He mumbles, remembering the fact you were definitely on your last limb here, "You're the best, most awesome friend I could ever ask for, so you're not gonna die! Wait- could I turn you into a vampire and save you? Would that work?"

You shrug, not wanting to get too excited, I mean, the others probably already thought of that and imagined a bad outcome.

The four walk back in to see you resting your head on Rory's lap, probably sleeping as he speaks up, his speech moving a million miles an hour.

"What if we turn them into a vampire? Would that work? I mean, they'd become immortal, right?"

The four look to each other and shrug, positivity shining through their worried expressions.

"Did they say they wanted to try it?" Sarah asks, "It's a big devotion... I mean, this is literally life changing, maybe for the better"

Rory nodded, "They said to ask you"

Sarah nods down, looking at you, "Ask them, I'll be downstairs, I'm gonna make them some tea" She lightly smiles, dragging Erica along with her.

Rory shakes your shoulder with no response, your cheeks pale as the veins quickly crawl up your face. He gets a little more aggressive with it, calling your name, the fear showing in his voice.

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n? Y/n? Y/n!"

Ethan stands frozen, seeing your entire face begin to be engulfed by the weird infection. Benny begins shouting for Sarah and Erica, sprinting down the stairs as quickly as possible. The blonde turns you face up, seeing blood trail out from your nose.

You were totally limp in his arms, a sense of calmness painting your face instead of the now usual pained and tired look. You seemed peaceful laying there while your whole body is painted in a spider web like pattern.

"Y/n/n, please, wake up! I can help you!"

No response, your chest wasn't even slowly rising or falling anymore, you were just a limp, heavy body laying on him.

Tears prick at the blonde's eyes as he stares at your relaxed features, wishing that just maybe he'd thought a little sooner.

Maybe if he just thought of that a little sooner, then you'd be okay.

[r-2-peepoo]

BAD BATCH SPOILERS

Now that the episode is out, let’s talk about Cody’s personality.

Yes he has one. Yes he has always had one. You can argue that he is underdeveloped (and I will agree with you, he hasn’t had nearly as much screen time as he deserves) but he isn’t a blank slate. He has always had a personality and here is a core part of it:

Cody is fundamentally good. That is who he has always been. He is a very obedient soldier but he is similar to Obi Wan in that he is a good person who is just very strongly bound by his duties, hence why they were so close and presumably why they were assigned to work together so often. Obi Wan Kenobi would not trust, let alone be close with someone and have him as his second in command if Cody was not a good person. People forget that Cody was probably the person Obi Wan saw the most throughout the entire war, they were together so often. Obi Wan would not proclaim Cody as a good man who he remembers fondly years into the future, even after he ‘betrays’ if he didn’t think incredibly highly of him and if the Kenobi stamp of approval isn’t enough to convince you then I don’t know what is.

There’s a reason Cody has the rank he has but also that all of the clones trust him, including TBB who generally do not like regs. It’s one of the first things we learn about them as a group actually. The fans have done an insane amount of work in Cody’s personality but it is based on what was already there. You can easily believe Cody is a somewhat stern yet very compassionate person when you read fics about him because that is who he’s been from the beginning.

Absolutely no part of me ever believed that Cody would work for the Empire willingly or that Rex would have to fight/kill him. If that had happened, as much as I love how angsty and dramatic it is as a concept, it would’ve been a complete betrayal of Cody’s character and wouldn’t be a fitting ending for him. The fan theories did get to a lot of us and honestly I thought they were plausible only because a misrepresentation of a fairly minor character is always possible in media, however that is exactly what it would have been had that been the plot. A misrepresentation.

Character arcs need to have structure and Cody turning fascist out of absolutely nowhere would not have fit in with his character arc. The inhibitor chip would be the only way for it to work and even then it wouldn’t be fulfilling at all. It could happen, but it wouldn’t feel right if that makes sense. A death is also a huge mistake, at least in my opinion. He is such a vital character for exploring who the clones are after the war. We still have the rest of the season so maybe he will still die but I truly do not believe it anymore. If he does, I firmly think it will be the wrong creative decision and would waste his character.

TL/DR: Cody has always been a sweet boy and I’m never letting people make me think he isn’t ever again ;-;

[cageyperry]

I lived through the “Victor is dying of cancer” theory for Yuri on Ice. No amount of angsty theory posts can convince me that Buddy Daddies will have anything other than a happy ending.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt:

Pairing: OM!Brothers x GN!MC

Genre: NA

TW: NA

Lucifer

It was in their files, so he knew about MC being an idol beforehand.

However, what he didn’t know was that the human that they had basically kidnapped for their exchange program was popular even in the Devildom.

On one hand, it meant less demons would be after their soul, but on the other hand, they’re too popular.

Man has his hands full with the work Diavolo gives him and his brothers, and now he has to look after a fragile little human who just so happens to be a big idol and influencer in two realms? He’ll need a vacation and a few bottle of Demonus after this-

Secretly is proud that his human has a fanbase that can rival those of him and his brothers in the Devildom.

Listens to MC’s songs when he needs to unwind. Just listening to their voice makes him feel relaxed and happier.

Mammon

New way to get Grimm: Acquired

After getting reprimanded for seeing MC’s celebrity status as a way to make money, he will act all cocky. Like, of course, it’s his human who’s a big idol with an even bigger fanbase. After all, the Avatar of Greed doesn’t make pacts with just anyone, y'know?

Will take his role as their first demon very seriously.

Will also sell autographed pictures of them. I can see him one day just barging into MC’s room with a stack of photos and asking them to sign each one of them.

But he will be greedy with one thing; their voice. He’ll ask them to sing some songs of theirs when the two are alone, preferably in one of their rooms. At that time he’ll set his tsundere nature aside, and if MC looks at him, they’ll see that he’s closed his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips as he listens attentively.

He will become pouty if they sing for his brothers though.

Leviathan

Fanboy mode: Activated

He definitely knew about MC before they came to Devildom, and almost passed out when he saw them for the first time.

He’d be a stuttering, blushing mess of a demon at first, but as time goes by, he’ll become more comfortable with having them around.

That doesn’t stop him from fainting whenever MC shows him the smallest amount of affection though-

Proud 2.0

Another one who likes to hear them sing their songs.

Will buy all of their merch, then come up to MC like the shy little otaku he is and ask them to sign it for him.

Has a part of his room dedicated to MC’s merch.

Satan

Doesn’t really think much of it at first.

He respects MC’s hard work and determination for what they do, but doesn’t really go bonkers over it.

Satan does worry about their safety though. He knows that some people can be rather creepy with how they interact with MC, so he has designated himself as their bodyguard.

Reads up on musical theory and likes to talk with them about it. Sometimes he even helps them write songs, though the ones he assists with always somehow end up being about cats or overly angsty and violent songs.

Asmodeus

Squealed in pure joy when he saw MC for the first time and nearly got hung upside down by Lucifer

Asmo is always up to date with the newest trends, so obviously he’d heard about the up and coming sensation that was MC. May or may not have been thinking of paying them a little visit in the Human Realm before they were dropped into the Devildom-

Asks them to perform for him, but if they’re uncomfortable with that, he’ll settle for watching videos of their past performances, provided they are next to him.

He’s a highly sought after demon, so he’s had his fair share of experience with obsessed fans. He uses his charm whenever he feels like someone is making MC uncomfortable or has bad intentions.

Asmo often gushes about them on his Devilgram. There is an account devoted solely to record memories of him and them, and although it has more followers than his own account, he finds that he doesn’t really mind it.

Beelzebub

Is very proud of MC for still being caring and humble, even when they’re a celebrity. Beel is the part of the RAD Fangol team, and he’s seen firsthand how praise and fame can go to one’s head with a bunch of his teammates, so he really admires MC’s down-to-earth behavior.

Soft protector worries about MC a lot.

Always makes sure that they have enough to eat, and will make sure that they eat a well-balanced meal three times a day.

Beel likes work out with MC, sometimes dragging Belphie to the gym as well.

Very protective of MC, he’s always around them. And if for some reason he cannot look after them, he’ll entrust them to Belphie or any other brother of his.

Belphegor

The first thought that comes to his mind is dragging MC to take a nap with him. After all, being a celebrity must be exhausting, right? Always giving your best and entertaining fans must be hard work, so MC should rest a little.

MC thought he was clingy before? Belphie will literally cling to them at all times now, stating that he cannot go to sleep unless they sing him something.

On days when MC is tired or not around, he’ll fall asleep to the recordings of lullabies that he made them sing for him beforehand.

Uses his ability on them to give them good dreams, so that they’re refreshed and energetic the next day.

And if there were any demonic or human fans of MC who tried to harass them? Yeah, they’re not gonna see them for a long, long time…. And no MC, he didn’t have anything to do with it, don’t give him that look-

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

Here's the thing. The chips WEREN'T A THING when the films were being made, so it isn't represented in them (or their novelizations) at all.

What IS sort-of implied within the films is that the clones are... somewhere between droid and sentient. What we're told in AOTC is that the clones "can think creatively" which is what makes them superior to droids as an army, but that they are also "totally obedient" and "take any order without question," something that was modified into them by the Kaminoans to "make them less independent than the original host." So basically, what I think we're intended to understand happens with Order 66 is that the clones have just enough independent thinking to be sort-of friendly with the Jedi while they're told the Jedi are their leaders, but that they don't HAVE enough sentience to care when they're then ordered to kill the Jedi because the Jedi are all traitors now. They don't have quite enough independence built into them to allow them to question that, so they don't.

The chips were only introduced in TCW, and season 6 at that, which would've come out about 10 years or so after the prequel trilogy and the ROTS novelization.

Other things that came out that dealt with Order 66 and the clones like comics and books either continued the semi-sentient idea and just left the clones as sort-of background characters who couldn't really CHOOSE whether they cared or not about this, or they went with the idea that the clones WERE independent but that they HATED the Jedi and any friendliness or familiarity was presumably just an act so long as they were forced to be serving with the Jedi.

TCW seems to be going the second route for a while to some degree, especially with the episode with Slick which is the ONLY episode where the clones' situation is explicitly compared to slavery and he calls the Jedi slavers. While this makes little sense with the way the relationship between the clones and the Jedi is represented in the show OVERALL (and with the introduction of the chips towards the end), it makes MORE sense if the idea was that the clones became more and more disillusioned with the Jedi over time and by the time Order 66 came around, they didn't MIND killing the Jedi. But at some point, that idea changed and they went with the mind control chips instead. This is just a theory, of course, but it seems to make sense to me.

But with all of that in mind, anything written before TCW, which includes the films and their novelizations, has to be understood to have been written without the chips as a motivation for why the clones did what they did. Presumably the only reason they show any friendliness between the Jedi and the clones (which amounts to just Cody and Obi-Wan really), is to make the betrayal then hit all the harder and to parallel the betrayal happening with Anakin at the same time. Everything is GOOD, everything looks like it's going WELL, and then it all goes to hell in a handbasket. It just adds a little more pathos to the entire tragedy, I imagine.

TCW took that and said "Okay, but what if it was MORE ANGSTY because the clones had that choice taken away from them and never would've made this choice if they'd been making it themselves." Cody's representation in TBB, which came out after the chips were a thing, is going to then be wildly different than how he's represented in the ROTS novelization. The novelization has him not care because he is INCAPABLE of caring about this, it's just how he's built. In TBB, the chip is FORCING him not to care but it's starting to weaken and so his actual personality and opinions are coming back and so we see him beginning to question what he's done and feel guilty about it. Cody in TBB is presumably not all the way back, he's still somewhat under the effect of the chip, but we see the stark black and white difference between Rex under the chip and after the chip is taken out, so we KNOW how little choice the clones are given and how completely it controls them. We see Rex attempt to use logic against Jesse by reminding him that Ahsoka technically left the Order and is no longer officially a Jedi and it DOESN'T WORK even though Jesse was shown to be BESIDE HIMSELF earlier for having given away Ahsoka's identity to Maul. So Cody is left in this immensely tragic and painful position of still sort-of thinking this was his choice that he made, but not truly understanding WHY he'd have made it because he's starting to realize how WRONG it was.

So the only stuff that deals with the clones and Order 66 while keeping the chips in mind are things written AFTER season 6 of TCW was released. This includes things like Rebels, TBB, and the Kanan comics in particular. Even the original Obi-Wan Kenobi show concept included Cody in it as someone Obi-Wan considered a friend still on Tatooine, so presumably they would've addressed the chip issue there before the character got cut. Anything that came out PRIOR to TCW season 6 either follows what the films set up as their "motivation" or went a more Jedi critical direction.

[cassynite]

hm. finishing up my like third replay of the twc trilogy and. some rambling disjointed theories about future plot points/revelations:

i feel like someone has to have already said this but the supernatural rogue leader with the detective's eyes is obviously rook's Not Dead After All sister, right? like we can all agree on that one

i think it's going to turn out that rebecca is so cagey about how rook died because she is responsible for it--not, like, directly, but in a way that makes it very easy to blame herself. she assigned him the mission he died on, he wanted to leave the agency and she convinced him to stay, that sort of thing.

I think all the villains that we see will end up showing up again (either as allies or enemies), but im specifically imagining that murphy will reappear as a minor antagonist--either naturally if he escaped, or as a result of a prison break of caged supernaturals

another probably obvious one but each love interest route seems to be building up to a major subplot for each of them:

A's is seems already deep in progress and will mainly revolve around them getting over themself, and will probably resolve with them getting with the detective. slow burn extraordinaire (most nebulous one for me since this is the only route i haven't played yet; this just comes from fandom osmosis so it might be off base)

M's is going to be their lost past but more focused on whatever is going to happen when that crystal of theirs ends up failing/getting lost/breaking (going off of that, we know mishka's got a particular point in mind for M to realize they are in love with the detective. i am 100% convinced at this point that it's going to be a dramatic moment when their crystal isn't working, they're losing it, and the detective brings them back to reality--that's going to be M's oh moment). interpersonal relationship conflict is mainly going to resolve around the natural conflict that arises from the pining while fucking trope that's been established

N's is THEIR past but more focused on their mystery powers (there's a post floating around that makes a great argument that's it's mind control and i'm inclined to believe that) and coming to terms with their "darker side"/learning to open up to the detective. i definitely feel n's route is going to get darker/more angsty before resolving

and we already know that most to all of F's romance route hardships are going to be external--the relationship itself is rock solid. right now it seems to me that it's going to be the conflict with the demons (literal ones this time) from their past coming back to them. also ten bucks says their mom is alive

AND MY BIG ONE: It's going to be revealed eventually that the detective and the LI are soulbonds. I feel like there's so much present in all the books that implies the relationship is not just one of attraction--there is a supernatural element of comfort, healing, and empathetic bond shit going on. the amount of information you get about soulbonds from f if you do research in b3 also just seems like setup for this reveal as well since it's explicitly stated that soulbonds are really rare but not limited to one supernatural species

I think this revelation will probably occur pretty late--at the very least after the LT route is resolved, because the soulbond will be with the LI that the detective ends up choosing. i also think this could also contribute to mishka's firm stance on not allowing the LT to have a poly option

[thefandomenchantress]

Okay, so I’ve had a thought. When Teruko and Ace talk near the elevator in chapter 1, Ace lists off various fears he has. And some of them are normal, like spiders. Or sharp things in general (That one I could make an angsty theory about, but carrying a knife across the kitchen gives me a strangely high amount of anxiety so honestly I kind of understand). But the third one sorta mystified me.

Now, this line could simply be for comedic effect, since it’s so strangely specific compared to spiders and sharp things. And it is kinda relatable, I constantly worry about getting run over when crossing the street.

But I had an idea. My idea has no evidence and is basically a shot in the dark, but I wanted to share it.

Ace used to have a friend named Taylor. They aren’t friends anymore, and most people theorize he and Ace had a falling out, or Taylor died.

I bet you can see where I’m going with this. What if that was what happened to Taylor? A hit-and-run of sorts. That would explain why it’s one of the first fears Ace thinks of, since I’m sure something like that would scar you forever.

But again. I have no evidence, it’s just a random thought I had and wanted to share.

[the-kinnie-in-me]

Okay, well then I hope you don’t mind me returning with yet another request. I can’t help it, I just really love your writing <3

I would love some headcanons for tasm Peter falling in love again for the first time since Gwen (god, just typing that made me tear up lmao)!

Take your time, have fun with it, and have a lovely day/night :)

A/n: This has been in my ask box for so long holy shit- I'm so sorry about that. I was on an intense writer's block and I think the fact that its Valentines' Day where I'm at kinda inspired me. This is not my best work since romantic writing isn't my cup of tea 😭 But I still hope you enjoy this-

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌! 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐰𝐞𝐧:

⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠���⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎

(I’m basing this off before he met the other Peters btw)

Let's start with some pre-relationship stuff-

I don’t really see it as love at 1st sight

It might take some since yk- his ex died because he couldn’t save her

How much time it would take would depend on how persistent you are in befriending him 1st

 There's definitely some remaining guilt and self-loathing so please be patient with him

He’s still a nice and friendly person so it isn’t that hard to befriend him 

In other words- You’re gonna have to buckle up since you’re about to experience the slowest slow-burn friends-to-lovers in history (Tho the fluff post and pre-relationship make it worth it)

Now onto the relationship itself

Aunt May adores you

She saw how you make her nephew happy after what happened with Gwen and approved of you immediately

“I saw how that boy mourned Gwen. I raised him for most of his life and it was devastating for me to see him like that. Then he met you, it was like it never happened and he was as happy as he was before. And I can’t express how thankful I am to you.”

We all saw how much effort he put into his and Gwen’s relationship- He would do the 1000% same thing with you

This is a bit angsty but- It just doesn’t feel the same?? THO IT DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU- When he was doing that stuff for Gwen he had a lot more self-esteem if you get what I mean?

HELP HIM GAIN HIS CONFIDENCE BACK

There have to be a lot of words of affirmation in this relationship homeboy needs it

After he gains his confidence it's mostly rainbows and sunshine

The reason why I say mostly? The topic of Spiderman.

I mean- He would tell you but he doesn’t want you to get involved 

He is very much persistent about that

He will give you every reason to not  get involved 

There’s honestly no win in this situation

If you don’t get involved you worry about him daily

*Peter enters your bedroom through your window*

“The hell happened this time?”

“They um- got me pretty bad”

You rush to grab the First Aid kit

“Yeah. I can see that.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure…Because your tone kinda says otherwise”

*Sighs* “I’m not mad. Just stressed and worried because of you.”

If you do get involved he worries about you daily

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“SAVING YOUR ASS”

Or

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be out doing Spiderman things?”

“Yeah about that- Whatever I was fighting got away and it seemed pretty pissed. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t gonna be petty and go after you”

I just realized the majority of this has been angst or about Gwen’s death in some way-

He doesn’t confront people when jealous

Poor boy just wants to leave with you beside him

He tries to hide it but it's kinda obvious

Tease him about it and see how long it takes for him to admit it I wanna test a theory

He is a total softy for you

Why can’t I find a bf like that on E-bay

A sane amount of PDA

Like hand-holding, falling asleep on him (albeit accidentally), and kissing on the cheek

He likes cuddling in private tho

Everything he does for and says to you just seems to be genuine-

A gentleman that was raised well fr

He will do so many things for you that it's concerning how fast he agrees,

“Hey Pete can you-”

“Of course”

This is entirely my opinion/ idea of him- I don’t see him calling you any pet names besides the occasional “babe” 

BUT- the amount of love and emotion traced whenever he just simply says your name makes up for it completely

Before I end this I just want to make 1 thing clear-

You are NOT a rebound 

He will do anything to prove that he never considered you a replacement for Gwen the moment he senses you feel that way

In his eyes, Gwen is his past 

In his eyes, you are his present and future

In his eyes, you are his everything.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I don’t think I’d be helpful lol but I just had to say I am pumped for your desegregated camp AU. One thing I could see is maybe the camp gaurds being extra hard on the women? Like they don’t think they should even be in the war, but they are, so they want to make them regret it. I guess maybe one theory is I could see the men being very protective/on edge about the women being in the camps too. Like they’re already in enemy territory and now their fellow service-women are in these camps too?? And particularly for Gale x OFC love interest, I can just see him being extra vigilant and taking care of his girl. Like in my head I have this idea of maybe when it’s winter, she gets sick and Gale is over here trying to ply her with any extra layers he has.

Again, this is probably not helpful. But thought I’d share. Can’t wait 🫶🏼

This is exactly the “helpful” stuff I run off tho, Nonnie! I love it! And 100% was already tracking on the whole “make them regret it” scenario. I wanna avoid being too angsty on the sexist or racial lines as we’ve got plenty of woes to deal with as is and the delight of an AU is suspending certain things -however, it’s got me wondering if maybe some of these units were held back until later, until they absolutely had to start using them so there’s a flood of female bomber groups, downed pilots, etc, pouring in from late 43-onwards.

Which further complicates where to put them, wether to recognize them as officers and combatants, all that. And 100% would have our boys watching out for them. Having to fight for them to be respected, probably having to concede to the desegregation of the camps despite the indignity because -let’s face it- they’re safer all together.

Also -I’m mad we aren’t getting more bunk sharing/blanket depositing, cuddle piling soldiers in camp because those were a thing?? Of course Gale’s gonna be scraping his rations for his girl, of course she gets his blanket, his sweater too, hell: Bucky’s parting with his beanie just so you don’t have frost bitten ears. No amount of insisting y’all all have the same skin and blood are gonna make these gentlemen stand down.

[fotibrit]

Hi!! I just wanted to say that I love all your posts, but r u ok?! The amount of post nwh angst is truly unbelievable. (This is said in a very jokey tone btw)

But seriously! I love your posts!! They always get me thinking or laughing :))

Thank you !!! I always like hearing that my posts make people think or care :)

As for Angsty post-nwh… I don’t know if you care for an actual explanation, but i have one! I’m a philosophy student working towards my thesis, and one of the things I am particularly interested in is the manner in which people learn from one another. the NWH spell is so so interesting to me, because of its horrible implications.

I have a theory that everything knowable can be discovered through another knowable thing. For example, a person who loved reading can then learn about the history of languages. or book binding. or the life of the author. And it goes on and on. A person could, in theory, start with an interest in photography and get to an interest in brain surgery. It’s all connected.

So, my interest in the NWH spell… what happens when a person is removed from that web?

If everything knowable is connected, a person gets from one interest to another. But, in universe, nobody can get to “Peter Parker”. He was magically revived from the web.

So, for one, what happens to that person, now that there’s nothing connecting them to another? And, what happens to the past connections which involved him? Once “Peter Parker” didn’t get Ned into legos, who did? and how does that affect his trajectory of interest in the future?

I love thinking about NWH angst because it’s an impossibility which presents problems for my theory of infinite connection as well as for mind, as related to the forgotten one.