❦ - Manzanas Contigo.

request: lewis hamilton black and white headers

credits to lewstappn, like/reblog if you save or use and please don't repost

YOU GET IT BRO WTF HAPPENED

ykw i was watching a video of gavi walking and ive realised how fucked his legs are like first of all i’m literally taller than him and second of all he walks like my granddad what has happened to the poor boy 💔.

STOP they are literally like ( ) I THINK ABOUT THIS DAILY. who did this to my sweet boy?? (ifykyk)

kali uchis’ “your teeth in my neck” is my new obsession. the song isn’t lyrically phenomenal but the way she can make a song about wealth inequality so sultry is amazing 😭 her voice is so smooth and raspy and the way she pronounces her vowels is so satisfying 😻

❦ - hell n back

summary:: late night pasta, music, wine and your boyfriend. that’s all you need.

warnings:: none

writers note:: yet again another fic for this series i need to save yall from this joao fic drout bc wtf is happening where they at… this is one of many to come!! ALSO I FORGOT WHO THE DIV BELONGS TO BUT CREDS TO THEM!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana ; lmk if u wanna be added!

The music played low in the background, Joao’s playlist shuffling between smooth beats and soft melodies. He was in the kitchen, humming under his breath as he worked on his infamous late night pasta. You leaned against the counter, watching him with a mix of amusement and admiration.

‘You’re really taking this chef thing seriously,’ you teased, sipping on your glass of wine.

Joao glanced over his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Don’t act like you’re not about to ask for seconds.’

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny it. João wasn’t just good at football; somehow, he had the kitchen skills to match. Watching him like this, relaxed, playful, completely himself, reminded you how much you loved these simple moments with him.

‘You’re proud of yourself, huh?’ you asked as he plated the pasta, garnishing it with a dramatic flourish of parsley.

He slid the plate in front of you with a mock bow. ‘Chef João at your service.’

You burst out laughing. ‘You’re ridiculous.’

‘Ridiculously talented,’ he shot back, sitting down across from you.

The two of you ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the warmth of the food matching the easy comfort between you. Joao finally looked up, his eyes soft as they met yours.

‘You know,’ he said, twirling his fork, ‘I don’t think I ever told you how much I appreciate this.’

‘This?’ you asked, raising a brow. ‘The pasta? Because I’ll admit, it’s good.’

‘No,’ he said, chuckling. ‘I mean this. Us. You let me just… be. I don’t have to perform or prove anything when I’m with you. It’s like.’ He paused, searching for the words. ‘It’s like coming home.’

Your heart skipped a beat, and you set your fork down, meeting his gaze. ‘Joao, you don’t have to thank me for being here. That’s what we do, right? We take care of each other.’

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘You make it sound so simple.’

‘Because it is,’ you said, reaching across the table to take his hand. ‘I love you, Joao. All of you. Even when you overcook the pasta’

He gasped in mock offense. ‘You didn’t just say that.’

‘I did,’ you said, laughing as he shook his head in disbelief.

‘Fine,’ he said, squeezing your hand. ‘But just so you know, you’re my favorite person. Overcooked pasta and all.’

And in that moment, with the music playing and Joao smiling across the table, you felt it too, this was everything. Simple, steady, and enough.

october is diabolical (i feel u bro 💔.)

anyways this definitely makes up for the obscure amount of time that took this is yummy it fed me good lord. está es una de las mejores cosas que he leído, DIOS MIOS tu talento está más allá de este mundo😍😍

Hey can you do one for Alejandro Balde where he's childhood best friends with reader. Some angst where other girls seem to come into the picture with his fame but he finds out how Y/N feels and reassures her!

✮ Don’t Shy Away - Alejandro Balde

alejandro balde x childhood bsf!fem!reader

sy: you become painfully overwhelmed by how your childhood bsf becomes swarmed and smitten with his own fangirls, as you become increasingly scared to admit your love.

a/n: this has terribly been in my drafts since oct and im actually ashamed for leaving it so long. i hope this makes up for it though <3

warnings: not really tbf.

the sky hung low with a suffocating greyness, and the wind nipped at your skin as you lingered on the outskirts of the pitch.

he’d asked you to be here.

you bounced on the heels of your feet, your fingers nervously etching across the leather purse in your grasp, scratching at the silk. you felt out of place, like you didn’t belong here, but then again—he asked you to be here.

the laughter reached you first, light and airy, floating across the pitch like the first taunt of a fight you couldn’t win.

there he was. alejandro—swirled up in the centre of a foreign crowd. instead, lavishing with women in head to toe with glam. their eyes sparkled with admiration, their voices like birdsongs when they exclaimed out his name.

that smile; the same one you knew like the back of your hand.

but him? he only basked in it. basked in the attention that he received, oblivious to the way it shredded you, piece by piece—leaving raw edges where your heart used to be whole.

the boy who once made pinky promises in the glow of streetlights, who used to scold you for crying over scraped knees and share his dreams with the kind of quiet fervor that only children possess—he felt so far away now.

fame clung to him like a second skin, and you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to peel it back and find the alejandro you knew.

“this is so stupid,” you curse yourself silently, your eyes magnate down to your shoes. let this be the last time you let yourself be humiliated.

you fumble with the watch on your wrist, clocking down the minutes that had you foolishly stood here, waiting. twenty-nine minutes.

it was pointless in waiting here still; you weren’t going to watch the clock tick to thirty as your self respect was slipping.

“hey,” balde called out, jogging to catch up to you, “your leaving so soon?”

when you didn’t turn around, he stopped you in your tracks by kneading his hand into your shoulder blade to prevent you from moving.

“alright party pooper, what’s with the rush? do you not wanna talk to me tonight or something?” he laughed, that same, familiar sense of humour creeping through in every worse moment.

with his help, you spun round, and instantly locked with his eyes. “what’s with the pout chica? im here, now, talk to me.”

“what’s there to talk about ale?” you inquire, brushing his hand from your shoulder. “you asked me to be here.”

“and you came,” alejandro pointed out with a grin, as if that alone made it better. “so i was thinking, if you wanted to stop by tonight.”

the way he said it, like he hadn’t just spent the last half hour entertaining other women whilst you stood around like an idiot.

you wanted to say yes. you wanted to just forget the hurt and walk away with him. but after tonight, after feeling like an insignificant background character, you didn’t have the strength to go.

“i’m just not feeling it today,” you whispered, avoiding eye contact. “sorry.”

“c’mon,” giving you playful jabs to your arm, “what’s the gloom? when do you ever reject me?”

there was a pause of silence. before you sighed, locking your hands behind your back. “it’s nothing.”

his grin faltered, his eyes examining your body language. “nada, no, see—now i know your lying.”

“just let it go ale.” you said, stepping back.

his teasing dropped almost instantly. “your upset? mad? definitely not happy,” he muttered the final words under his breath. “nervous?”

you grumble, crossing your arms. “seriously?”

he tilted his head slightly, examining your face carefully. “are you on your perio—?”

“no balde!” you finally snapped, which made his head instantly recoil back up. you couldn’t keep the anger from breaking through, even if you tried. “are you not aware of what you’ve just done?”

his expression stays blank, and if anything, he looks more shocked at your outburst than he does concerned. and that, more than anything, made the fire in you burn hotter.

“so your gonna stand there, mute, and act oblivious?!” you eventually screech, having no regard for who was listening. “as you always do i expect.”

“qué i don’t—”

“no you never do. do you ale?” you spit, as he pushes you into a more secluded area underneath the tunnel; away from prying eyes.

“look,” he sighs softly, “can you explain it to me rather than screaming in my face?”

“you dont deserve my explanation,” you mutter, feeling the sting of tears at the brim of your eyes.

your throat burned, the fury dissolving, leaving only a raw, aching pain in its wake. if you didn’t leave now, it would only make you cry, and you couldn’t let that happen.

not after defending yourself so promptly.

you turned away again, ready to walk off before you lost whatever shred of dignity you had left. but ale was too quick, wrapping his hand around you wrist before you had the chance.

“why do you keep pushing me away?” ale’s voice dropped an octave low, almost shameful. “im just trying to help you.”

with a slow twist back around, you met his gaze with an expression he could quite decipher.

the conflict of hurt and frustration clear in your eyes made his grip tighten, feeling the desperation in his fingers.

“maybe i don’t need your help!” you exclaim, the contradicting nature between his words and actions making your eyes burn. “not now.”

“what do you mean not now?”

“isn’t it clear?” you shake your head, “can you really not see it… how i truly feel?”

“how you feel? no i didn’t even recog—”

you scoffed, pulling your wrist away. “exactly.”

balde exhaled through his nose, raking his fingers through his hair. “what’s this about huh? you could of just told me you didn’t wanna come over y/n.”

“its not that,” you huff, staring at your shoes.

“then what is it?” alejandro crouches slightly to look at your face, bringing his thumb under your chin.

when you didn’t reply to him, he carried on.

“please, whatever it is, i would rather us talk it out than you hating me for something i’ve done.” and this time, his tone carried sincerity.

not like before, where it was all light and jovial, like he thought everything was just a joke. but instead, something that said he truly cared.

biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to keep your composure. “you spent thirty minutes surrounded by them..”

the guilt in his eyes were immediate; the footballers shoulders dropped in regret.

“..and i stood there like a fool, waiting for you.”

you shuffled your feet against the concrete, finally bringing up the courage to look him in the eyes. “i didn’t have to come.”

“i know,” he replied—weak.

the words echoed in the tranquil air, closing in on you both as neither of you had the fight to say anything.

“i messed up,” he finally admitted, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i should’ve been with you. i should’ve seen you standing there.”

almost as a reflex, you squeezed your eyes shut in hopes to savour this moment if it wasn’t real. you wanted to trust that it was real.

“hey, im being serious y/n. for the first time ever.”

your lips parted in protest, your heart racing at the proximity as he pressed his forehead against yours.

the closeness, the way his breath fanned over your skin—it was everything you’d spent years yearning for, but never daring to confront.

“trust me when i say this,” he pulled back, brushing a stray hair from your face, “i don’t want anybody else.”

you gulped thickly, his words playing strings with your heart. why did he wait for so long to say it?

“you say that now,” you whisper, defeated. “but what about tomorrow? or even weeks from now, when your surrounded by them?”

his brows furrowed, eyes dark with something unreadable. then, as if making a decision right then and there, he took your hands in his.

“there won’t be a next time,” he promised, his thumbs tracing soft circles over your skin. “i don’t care about them, nor the attention, the cameras, the noise—it all means nothing without you.”

the words hit you harder than you expected, knocking the air from your lungs.

“i love you, nena. not them. not this life. you.”

your lips trembled, he was already pulling you in, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“i know i don’t deserve an answer right now,” he murmured against your skin. “but let me prove it to you, okay?”

a shuddered breath left you, your fingers gripping the front of his jacket as if letting go would mean losing him again.

“¿me dejarás?” (will you let me?)

you didn’t know what the future would hold, but for now, in this moment, you needed to let go of the fear. to let yourself trust him, fully.

“yeah,” you nodded, falling into the urge to rest your chin on his shoulder—your resolve finally melting.

balde chuckled, relaxedly. “that means you forgive me right?”

“i don’t know, your on a test for the rest of this week.” you hummed mockingly, although really, it wasn’t too bad of an idea.

alejandro shook his head disbelievingly, but deep down, he was just relieved that he had his best friend back, or even after this—something more than just friends.

the scrape on your knee had been healed, the wounds of the past, and he was the one who healed it.

i wanna yap, my stpumach hurts and idk how to spell that word so ill just leave it how it is, also neymar jrjr might have a crush on my sister?? i thought we was friends but that ho was tryna get to my sister. hmm what else... oh yes i might be getting sambas here soon!! my parents told me they'd take me to go get them for Christmas but they're liars 💔 so it's all in due time. omg i love that song, joshua bassett slander was so stupid like goddamn take your washed brain somewhere far from me you cunt. also i did a face mask and im so glowy hehe wait omg should i confront neymar jrjr on sunday??? tf do i say, 'yo so there's a rumor floating around that you like my sister, is that true ho?' 'yes' '...' LIKE WTF DO YOU SAY AFTER THAT?? oh my god i just remembered when we were both in middle school this chick named allison liked him and told me to ask for his number and he REJECTED IT. and i had to run away like an idiot and i couldn't sleep without it popping up in my brain making me want to kms, but tbf he didn't reject me he rejected her thru me..? aye yi yi anyways im going to sleep now buhbye MWAH

i love how my inbox is full of yap and uhm what an interesting day!! neymar jrjr needs to get his act together BUT ARENT YOU LIKE 3 YEARS OLDER THAN HIM??? okay cougar… but like he’s also like 2 years older than your sister so atp i think you should just be lesbian again bc if you don’t make a move on dom then you’ll lit suffer. i hope him and ariya work out ig??

unmasked

credits to the owner!

summary: gavi wears a mask, but under your pressure he shows his true face

warnings: insecure!gavi

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

request: maybe one where pablo was always playing cool around u as his first girl but one day he wasnt able to continue acting and he appear stupid in front of the reader but she did comfort him that she wants the real pablo not the actor one. i think its a anger then fluff

taglist: @paucubarsisimp, @barcapix, @joaosnovia

masterlist

It's been months since you first met Pablo, and in that time you've gotten to know him not only as a football prodigy, but as the good man he was in person. To the world he was a star, but to you he was just Pablo.

At first everything seemed like a whirlwind. You met by chance one evening at a cafe. He was just another guy, albeit a famous one, but as the days went by you saw what Pablo was like off cameras and spotlights. He was funny, smart and thoughtful in a way no one had seen on the field. But there was something that irritated you. He always wore this mask, this persona of the cool, untouchable guy. A boy who was always in control, a player who never cracked.

He smiled that teasing smile, his eyes shining with confidence, and everyone around him swooned. But with you, when it was just the two of you, there was always something hidden. This frustrated you because you wanted to meet the real Pablo.

You were his first girlfriend, Pablo didn't know how to behave around you without looking like a fool. However, you were able to feel the distance between you, as if he was afraid that if he showed you too much of himself, you would leave. Maybe he thought that the real Pablo wouldn't be enough for you, that to keep you he had to be the perfect version of himself, the one everyone expected.

You tried talking to him about it countless times, but he always avoided the conversation. He joked, laughed or changed the subject. You couldn't help but wonder why he was afraid to show you his true self.

It wasn't that you wanted to change him. You've never done this and you had no intention of doing so. You just wanted him to trust you enough to stop pretending. You didn't want cool Gavi, the guy who made everyone swoon with his natural charm. You wanted the real thing. The one who was nervous before important matches, the one who stayed up late talking about his dreams and fears. One who didn't feel the need to pretend to be invincible, but who could share his vulnerability with someone who truly cared about him. You wanted Pablo, your Pablito.

But life went on and you still shared quiet moments, laughed together, and even shared moments of deep conversation. However, Pablo's true face was always out of reach.

One afternoon you were waiting for him at his house because he gave you his keys and texted you to come over. You thought that maybe something would change today, that maybe he wanted to talk about something. How wrong you were.

As soon as he got home, you could see the exhaustion on his face. It wasn't the typical tiredness he felt after a long training session - it was something deeper, as if he was carrying a burden that had nothing to do with football.

“Hi” he greeted you, kissing you lightly on the cheek before plopping down on the couch next to you.

"Hey, how's training?" you asked, running your fingers through his hair, but he didn't look at you.

“Fine, same as always” he shrugged and you frowned.

There was silence between you. You scanned him with your eyes, breathing shallowly, while he stared blankly at the turned off TV. His smile was absent and his eyes were duller than usual. His fingers absently scratched his beard, the air thickening.

You had enough, you wanted to end it. You looked at him for a moment longer before speaking.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked gently, your voice breaking the awkward silence.

He looked at you, and for the first time you saw a hint of hesitation in his gaze.

Normally he would have turned it into a joke to avoid answering the question, but that wasn't the case today, he had no shield to hide behind.

For a long, awkward moment, he just stared at you, his lips slightly parted, unsure of what to say.

"I'm...fine" he said, though from the way his words hung in the air, it seemed like he wasn't. The mask was still in place, but there was something different about it now. She wasn't as convincing anymore, you could tell. "I'm just tired" he added, sighing heavily.

But you knew something was wrong. You had spent enough time with him to recognize when he was hiding, or at least trying to now, behind his mask of the perfect boy.

“You know you don't have to be perfect around me?” you said quietly, concern evident in your voice. “You don't have to pretend that everything is always fine when I see that it's not” you added, looking at him intensely.

He shook his head, trying to smile, but his usual freedom to avoid answering was gone. "It's nothing" he said, his voice now hoarse. “I guess I've been working too hard lately” he looked for an excuse.

He didn't manage to fool you into it. You could always tell when he was faking it, when he was trying to convince you and himself that everything was okay when it wasn't. Your heart tightened in your chest. You knew it wasn't exhaustion from training, it was something much deeper.

You leaned forward, closing the distance between you and looking straight into his uncertain eyes. “Pablo” you said, your voice softer now, more serious. “You don't have to pretend to me. "I know you're more than the 'nice guy' everyone thinks you are" you began.

“I want to see Pablo, not Gavi” you added. "Besides, you always tell me that when I feel unsure, I should talk to you, so why don't you want to do it with me when you're confused?" you asked quietly.

It took his breath away and for the first time you saw something in his eyes that you had never noticed before. Sensitivity. Fear. It was as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he didn't know how to carry it anymore. For a moment, you saw the cracks in his armor, and they were more beautiful than you had ever imagined.

"I don't know how to do this" he confessed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don't know how to be anything other than the guy everyone expects me to be. It's easy on the pitch because I know what I'm doing. But as for… then…” he gestured between the two of you, his eyes falling to his hands, unable to meet yours. “I don't know how to be real. It's just... I'm afraid that if I show who I really am, you won't want it” his voice cracked.

"I act like I'm always fine, like I'm the perfect player, the perfect guy. But... I'm not. I'm just... tired. Tired of pretending" he buried his face in hands.

Your heart ached for him, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. You always knew that underneath the surface, Pablo wasn't as untouchable and indestructible as he seemed, but today he showed you something no one else had ever seen - the truth.

But hearing him admit it, seeing him break down in front of you, it all felt real in a way you hadn't expected.

His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Your heart ached with the pressure he carried alone, to this day.

"You are also my first girlfriend and... I don't really know how to behave, I don't want to scare you or disappoint you, much less lose you" he said contritely.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, leaning on his shoulder, looking at him with tears in your eyes. He froze, looking at you as if he couldn't believe that you didn't pull away after his confession. On the contrary, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it, naturally intertwining your fingers, offering him comfort with this gesture.

“None of this will happen, Pablo. I won't leave you when you show your true self because I don't want a "perfect" Gavi" you said quietly, your voice confident. “I don't want an actor. I want you, Pablo. The real you. The one who is not afraid to be afraid sometimes, to show that he is human. This is the person I care about. Not the cool guy everyone else sees” you said in a soft voice.

His eyes searched yours, uncertain, as if waiting for you to take back your words, but you didn't. You had every single one of them on your mind, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a small, genuine, hopeful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was shy at first, but he widened as he squeezed your hand tighter.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice full of emotion.

You nodded, your heart filling with emotion. That was it. The moment you've been waiting for for so long.

“I've never been more sure of anything” you whispered, looking tenderly into his eyes.

Then there was silence, a calm, loving silence as the weight between you lifted. For the first time, you saw Pablo as he truly was - not a star, not an untouchable hero, but a man who could laugh, stumble, show fear and still be worthy of love. And he saw you, not as someone who admired him for his fame or skill, but as someone who cared for him exactly as he was.

He leaned in slowly, his face was only a few inches from yours, and kissed you softly and lovingly. This time it's not for to impress you. This wasn't a show, this was finally real, and you couldn't be happier that he had broken down the walls and finally let you in.

When you broke apart, Pablo leaned down, cupping your cheek in his hand, his forehead gently pressed against yours. There were no ostentatious gestures, no need for words. Just you two.

"I love you" he whispered, his voice full of sincerity.

The words seemed to have been coming for a long time, but now they didn't seem rushed or forced. They were real and you smiled wholeheartedly, responding in kind.

“I love you too, Pablo. Just who you are, not the actor you pretended to be. I love the real you more than you know and more than words can express" you confessed, seeing the sparkle of happiness and relief in his eyes, then kissed him again.

As the weeks passed, things changed between you and Pablo. He became more open, more authentic with you. It wasn't a dramatic change - more like a steady, gentle unraveling of the man he had always been beneath the layers of his public persona. He no longer shied away from asking you for help when he was struggling through a tough game, or how he unhesitatingly reached out to you for a silent reassurance that you were there for him, that he didn't have to be perfect to be loved.

He no longer tried to wear the cool guy mask. He realized that with you he could be tired, scared, be himself, and with each passing day you fell more and more in love with him - not with an actor or a superstar, but with the real Pablo, the one who needed comfort, who laughed freely and shared his fears without shame. He needed your love, and he had no problem showing it fully to you.

But it wasn't just about grand gestures. It was also about the quiet, tender moments you shared, like late night conversations that turned into long passionate discussions, cooking dinner together in his apartment, laughing about stupid things that didn't matter to anyone but the two of you. Every day you learned more about him, for example he had the courage to tell you about his childhood in Sevilla, what it was like before everything started.

For the first time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you. And each time you felt your heart fill with a mixture of love and admiration. This was the real Pablo you wanted from the very beginning. A young man who had dreams, doubts and fears, just like everyone else.

You broke down his walls and in return he gave you the most precious gift, his true self.

And that was more than enough.

if you like this, please like, reblog or comment 🫶🏻

I've seen enough bring on Ferran Torres

okay so i lowkey sound like a beg but please send me requests because i wanna write but i physically cannot come up w ideas! so if you could help out that would be really appreciated i love you guys!! 🤍

as a palestinian wallah the whole genocide is so upsetting , please donate to the gofundme !! 🍉

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

people in gaza deserve to have a chance at a life and as we all know, this chance is being taken from them by force. so if you’re in the position to help in any way, even just by speaking out, please do so🍉 you can start by visiting aziz’s profile to help his family and if you have the means to do so, make sure to donate❤️

ps: if you’re pro-genocide (pro-israel) or even neutral on the matter, please unfollow me, you have no place on my page. spend some time educating yourself‼️