Request: “Could I then please request an imagine for Gil? Like where the son of Gaston get´s jealous and the reader says the prompts #25 and #81 and Harry and Uma adds a comment with the prompt #253, so Gil and the reader just blushes like madness? Sorry if you didn´t really understand it :D”
A/N- So I know that there isn’t a ton of info about Gil especially since I haven’t gotten that far in the book series. But I did my best because I imagine that he’s just a cute little bean.
You were currently sitting at the bar area of Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop while you waited for the crew to come back from yet another training session.
Being the girlfriend of Gil, you were pretty much forbidden from being around the crew.
He said that they talked about you, and not in the kind friendly way. You secretly admired this though. Gil wanted to make sure people respected you, and that people knew you were not to be messed with.
“Hey, Y/N.” You turned around to see the friendly face of Jordan.
He wasn’t part of Uma’s crew, but he was around all the time because he worked in the kitchen of the restaurant.
He’s nice enough, for a villain kid at least. “Hey Jordan, how you doing?” You asked flashing him a kind smile.
Jordan began to make simple small talk with you as you watched the clock to make sure the crew was back on time.
“And so yeah, that’s how I got the job.” He smiled finishing the story of how he got hired by Ursula.
“That’s so cool. So your dad was one of her exes?” You chuckled taking a sip of your “Sour Smoothie”.
“Yeah, try having dinner with her and all eight tentacles.” He laughed attempting to make a joke. You laughed along as you noticed the crew had returned.
“Hey guys.” You exclaimed as your friends sauntered over, tired from the day’s work.
“Hey babe.” Gil smiled wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He gave you a sweet kiss on the lips as you saw Jordan looking uncomfortable.
Gil seemed to be glaring at him while he embraced you, thinking you didn’t notice.
“Looks like that’s the end of my shift, bye Y/N.” Jordan said quickly taking his apron off and exiting the room. You waved a ‘bye’ and then turned to your boyfriend.
“Hey, you alright?” You questioned tilting his chin up with a goofy smile.
He nodded, “He was looking at you funny.”
“Wait a second… are you jealous?” You smirked biting your lip to avoid laughing.
“N-no.” He exclaimed as his face began to turn a deep pink.
You let yourself giggle as his arms wrapped around you and he hid his face in your hair to avoid embarrassment.
“You’re so clingy, I love it.” You mumbled kissing him lightly on the cheek as Harry and Uma watched with amusement.
The two of them enjoyed teasing you and Gil about your relationship as much as you did about theirs.
“God, the cuteness is unreal!” Harry laughed with some sort of valley girl accent. You sent him a playful glare as you parked yourself on Gil’s lap.
“Yeah, are you sure you two aren’t married?” Uma smiled watching your face begin to blush crimson.
“Shut up.” You muttered as they left you and your boyfriend blushing like hell.
seung-gil being the most uncharacteristically soft boy when he’s around phichit. like, soft smiles, heart eyes, blushing furiously
everyone is so surprised bc who is this person pretending to be seung-gil lee?
but theyre also not surprised bc everyone is at least a little in love with phichit
phichit and seung-gil sitting close or cuddling while on their phones and not speaking to each other. it’s a comfortable silence. but seung-gil will smile and laugh at any video or picture or meme that phichit shows him
phichit: hey seung-gil, i found this husky plushie at some store in bangkok and he reminded me so much of your dog!!! also omg i found three hamster phone charms that i wrapped around the dog’s collar isn’t it cute.. wait seung-gil babe are you crying????!!
seung-gil is so touched starved now that he and phichit are boyfriends he’ll take any chance to be as physically close to him as possible. even during competitions he will be hugging or kissing phichit the moment he steps on and off the ice
everyone not even phichit and seung-gil himself expects this (both arent complaining anyways)
seung-gil, crying as he takes a snapchat of phichit’s hamsters chillin on top of his husky dog
phichit: look it’s us (shows seung-gil pictures of hamsters and dogs cuddling) seung-gil, in tears: i’m fine
BONUS ROUND: phichit/seung-gil as andy/april from parks and rec
phichit: seung-gil you’re like an angel with no wings seung-gil: so like a person
seung-gil when he proposes to phichit: i guess i kinda hate most things but i never really seem to hate you so i want to spend the rest of my life with you. is that cool? (phichit, tearfully: YES)
phichit: awww babe you had a crush on me, that’s embarrassing!! seung-gil: we’re engaged phichit: stillllll
A list of Petty Chinese bf Guang Hong headcannons because I love the idea of GH getting pouty over small things and Leo freaking tf out:
• Leo not holding GH’s hand despite GH purposely brushing up against Leo /twice/ • GH dropping his pencil and Leo??? not immediately picking it up for him???? • leoji taking the subway and Leo not catching GH when the carriage shakes slightly • Leo not noticing GH’s new shirt • Leo not being the first person to like GH’s new IG post??????? • Leo not giving GH a kiss DESPITE GH DROPPING ALL THE ‘kiss me’ SIGNS • leoji watching a movie and Leo (how dare he) not putting his arm around GH • Leo getting advice from phitchit when he literally does not know what he did wrong • Phichit knowing exactly what he did wrong (also phichit sharing leo’s relationship woes with seung gil bc babe loves gossip) • Leo not crying over a scene in a drama when GH is crying over a scene in a drama • Leo bringing GH to Burger King after GH said he didn’t know what he wanted to eat when it was obvious GH wanted McDonald’s • Leo calling GH baby instead of babe • Leo calling GH babe instead of baby
• and finally(credits to @julysecnd ): *leoji walking past an ice cream store while on a date* gh: *lets go of leo’s hand* leo: babe why are you angry????? gh: i eyed that ice cream store super hard and this is what i get?? Leo:?????
of course after being angry for 10 minutes GH comes back and leoji hugs and cuddles and eat a lot of ice cream tgt because they are in love and happy
Love is a high, we feelin’ alive
You lovin’ the size, I heureumeul ta
I give you more, You feelin’ the flow
You never let none of them bring down the vibe
Hustle to win, we be livin’ in sin
Makin’ us two of a kind
Saeroun gil, babe we got temples to build
Ain’t no haters can step to our grind
We got that empire mind
Hamkke cheoncheonhi olla
(That be freal)
Jinsiri dahneun sungan
Neukkyeobwa nuneul gama
(That be freal)
You be the bank on my side
Nothing but dimes
Let’s make a deal
Seoseohi pil kkumgwa hyeonsil
Nae soneul jabeumyeon together freal
Something is off. I don’t know what, but something weird is going on. I first noticed it a few weeks ago, when he became a little distant. It wasn’t a big deal at first, because I assumed that the million things he has going on for him were finally starting to have their say. I believed he was tired and that it was going to pass. It was going to be fine. No problem.
But then it got worse. Neymar became distant to a point where it felt like we were two strangers who happened to live in the same house. Like neighbors. He never told me where he was going or what he was doing anymore, I was hardly ever invited to his usual hangouts with his friends, although they seemed to happen every single weekend, until early in the morning. I tried talking to them, hoping that maybe they knew what was going on. Of course they didn’t. If he was shutting me off, what chances did they have of being let in? I keep thinking of things that could make him act this way. Had something happened? Maybe it was something I did. But what? And if something was really wrong, he would tell me, wouldn’t he?
After a few weeks of having the worst possible scenarios play in my head, I feel like I can’t take it anymore. I am on the verge of exploding. Another ignored call, another lie, just one more drop and I’ll lose my mind.
He’s sleeping next to me. That’s the one thing we have now, the only time we’re actually in the same room. This stupid bed, where he used to hold me for hours at a time and now he can’t get far enough from me. Since no one seems to be willing to tell me what’s going on, I have to take matters into my own hands. And the only option I have is to go through his phone, which is something I swore to myself I would never do. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose. He’s never going to trust me after this.
I quietly get up, grab his phone from the bedside table and make my way downstairs, to the couch in the living room. The phone is locked, but I know he’s terrible at remembering passwords, so whatever it is, it must be very easy. 1234? No, he’s not that dumb. A birthday maybe? Davi’s birthday. Bingo. I can’t believe I’m doing this. There is nothing to find. Everything is fine. Please let everything be fine.
Now what? What could I possibly find on this phone that would explain the last couple of months? His e-mail is full of messages from his manager, both his coaches and a bunch of other work related things. What did I expect, anyways?
Next, I check his texts. Gil, Rafaella, Babe - oh, so this is where he keeps the hundreds of hundreds of texts I send, that never get a reply anymore - Dad, Jo, Y/N. Wait, what? I’m Y/N. But if I’m Y/N, then who - who the fuck is babe? My stomach turns at the thought. No. He probably saved my number twice by accident under different names. Or maybe it’s some dumb joke that his friends played on him and switched up his contact names. But when I start reading the texts in that conversation, I realize I’m the only one who’s getting played here.
Babe: Hey bby u still coming right? Neymar: On my way b there in 5 - Babe: Whats takin so long? - Babe: Hello? - Babe: Omg is that bitch being annoying af again?! - Babe: Room 36 im waiting
I can’t read any more. I don’t need to, but I’m also physically unable. My hands drop the phone onto the coushion. I can feel the bitter taste of bile in my mouth and I swear I’m about to pass out. Or maybe I already have and this is all some kind of messed up nightmare. I pinch myself. The horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach doesn’t go away.
I don’t know what happens next. I sit there for an indefinite amount of time, in shock. I’m not crying. Not yet, anyway. Then his phone beeps and the next thing I know is I’m in a cab, on my way to nowhere. I try to think of a place I could go, but the only friends I have in Barcelona are Neymar’s friends or teammates and there is no way I could go to any of them. The thought that they could have known all this time and kept it from me makes my skin crawl. I can’t think straight and I don’t understand in the least bit what is happening. Why is this happening? How can this be happening? I’m crying now. I’m full on sobbing in the back of a cab, in the middle of the night. The driver gives me a sympathetic look through the rearview mirror, as he continues to drive with no destination. I stare out the window at the empty streets of what used to be my favorite city, but tonight it seems to have lost its appeal. My whole world has come crumbling down and I can’t shake the feeling that there is no going back.
We were happy. Neymar and I were so in love. I moved here to be with him, I dropped everything and moved halfway across the globe, because we were in love. We had everything. We were so happy. Why is this happening? I ask the cab driver to drop me off at the nearest hotel and I space out completely for the rest of the ride.
“Y/N?” A voice softly whispers in my ear, as a hand caresses my back. I keep my eyes closed and pretend to be asleep, but I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face as he places kisses down my jawline. “Neymar,” His name escapes my mouth as a moan. “It’s Sunday. You promised you’ll let me sleep in on Sundays.” I plead and finally open my eyes to meet his. He has the goofiest smile on his face and the way he is looking at me makes my brain turn into mush. “I did let you sleep in.” He is leaning on his elbow, his face only inches away from mine. I bring one of my hands to his cheek and he leans into it. “It’s almost noon. I’ve been waiting here for hours.” He kisses me again. “And I have to tell you something.” “Can it wait for ten more minutes?” I rub my eyes and yawn. He chuckles and kisses my cheek. I’ve only moved in with him a few days ago and I’m already starting to miss my lazy Sundays. “It can’t wait another second.” His smile is now replaced by a serious expression, so I force myself to keep my eyes open and sit up. “I’ve been watching you sleep for a while and I couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky I got with you.” “So you woke me up to tell me that? It could have waited, babe.” I laugh and punch his shoulder. “Watching people sleep is creepy, by the way.” “Maybe, but if you love them, it’s romantic.” He is smiling again, but I’m unable to do the same. I keep repeating his words in my head, wondering if I misheard him. “I love you, Y/N.” “Oh.” Is the only sound I manage to make. Neymar’s smile fades in an instant. I mentally slap myself. “No, no, no.” I violently shake my head, in an attempt to save the situation. “I love you, too.” There, I said it. His face brightens up again. “It’s just - I wasn’t expecting that at all.” “You’re not just saying that, are you?” He asks, sitting up. “I am not just saying that.” A big grin is now plastered on my face. “I am definitely not just saying that. I love you, too. I am so in love with you, you have no idea.”
He is suddenly on top of me, his hands on either side of my head, leaving me unable to move as his lips brush against mine. I deepen the kiss and press my hands against his chest, rolling the both of us around, until I’m on top.
“Miss?” The driver’s voice breaks me out of my daydream and it takes a few seconds for me to take in my surroundings. We were so happy that day. Or I was, at least. The cab is now parked in front of a hotel and I wish I could go back to that blissful Sunday morning, as I pay for the ride and get out of the car.
I drag my feet to the reception, carelessly wipping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. I’d be lying if I said I was paying any attention to the receptionist, so I have to check the room number on the keychain as I walk inside the elevator and nearly bump into someone in front of me. I apologize without bothering to lift my gaze from the floor. I don’t need anyone seeing me like this.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The woman standing next to me bursts into laughter, as the elevator doors close. “Y/N?” I lift my head and my curious gaze is met by a smirk and a superior expression. “Bruna.” I mumble. Realization hits me like a million knives in my back. Room 36. A hotel. This hotel. It’s her. I’m no longer able to hold back the tears that have been pooling in my eyes and I let out a loud sob. “Did you come here to give me some kind of lecture?” She laughs in my face again. “Because there’s no point. We both know how this is going to end.” I say nothing and silently pray for her to stop talking. “You’re going to cry all the way back to wherever it is that you came from and Neymar is finally going to come back to me for real.”
There are no words to describe how badly I want to wipe the smile off of her face, but I know beter. I know better than to let her see that everything she says kills me inside. Never in a million years would I have seen this coming. Where did she even come from? I thought she lived in Brazil. I thought they broke up and that was it. Why is she back? Why would he do this? No crying. Not here.
“He is all yours.” I say, once the elevator comes to a stop on my floor. I don’t wait for a reply.
Once I’m alone in my hotel room, I collapse on the king sized bed. Why do I even have a king sized bed? It’s not like there’s anyone to share it with anymore. I lay there, crying, thinking, trying to make sense of the past hour until something starts buzzing and vibrating in the pocket of my jeans. I fish my phone out and turn it off the second I see Neymar’s stupid name and his stupid picture on the screen. I don’t know how, but I manage to fall asleep, fully clothed, on top of the covers. The next thing I know, someone is banging on the door and I jump to my feet, convinced they’re going to break it down.
“Y/N!” Neymar’s voice is yelling from the hallway. I wonder how long it’s going to take before he gets kicked out for waking everyone up, but he seems to realize the same thing. “Y/N, please open the door.” He says more quietly.
I’m determined to stand my ground, so I walk back to the bed and lay down. The last person I want to see right now is him. I’m sure he has about a million excuses all planned out by now. He has always been good with words. It’s what he does. I should have known. I am not going to give in. I will not open the door. I will not let him in ever again. I start crying again. The knocking hasn’t stopped. I pad to the door, but I stop myself as I’m about to unlock it. I press my back against it and sob into my hands, sliding down to the floor.
“I know you’re there.” Neymar says from outside the door. “I can hear you crying. If you would just -” His voice breaks midsentence. It sounds like he’s crying.
I wish he would just leave. I wish he hadn’t showed up in the first place. It was easier to be mad at him when I didn’t have to hear his voice. That sad, sad voice. Maybe if I opened the door - no. He has done nothing but lie and cheat for months. No. Another loud sob escapes my lips. My shoulders are shaking against the door, as the crying gets bad again. I cry myself to sleep on the floor to the sound of a hand tapping the door. When I wake up, everything hurts. Sleeping on a hard wood floor was probably not the best idea. As I sit up and look around the room, the real pain comes back. This has nothing to do with falling asleep on a hotel room fooor, and everything to do with the reson I’m here in the first place. I replay last night’s events in my mind. It’s really hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that this is really happening. The last thing I had ever expected. Neymar cheated on me.
“He cheated on me.” I say, getting up. I keep repeating that horrible sentence all the way back to the bedroom, where I throw myself on the bed.
I don’t know what the next step is for me. What do I do now? Where do I go? The only people I know in this city are his friends. The place I call home is his house. Everything here is, more of less, his. What I have to do next becomes obvious, but I’m not ready to accept it. The whole reason I moved here was to be with him, but since that ship has now sailed, I have no businness being in Barcelona. Going back to my old home in New York seems like the most reasonable option, but the thought breaks my heart even worse. I have to leave. I’m going to be in a different country, on a whole other continent, far away from this place and everyone here. Far away from Neymar and everything we’ve had for the past year. It’s all going to be just some bad memory. I’m crying again. I geniunely thought this was it for me. I thought he was the one. Hell, I didn’t even believe that the one even existed before I met him, but he made me believe. Damn him for making me believe. We had everything. We were supposed to grow old together. He talked about it all the time, but it’s clear to me now that it was all a game to him. He could have just said so in the beggining. It wouldn’t have been a very pleasant conversation, but it definitely wouldn’t have hurt this bad. Maybe it wasn’t like that when we first met, though. Maybe it was real, at least for a while. But then again, if it were real, if he actually cared about me, why would he go back to Bruna? He couldn’t have cared less. I’m such an idiot for even considering another possibility. I hastily gather my belongings and turn on my phone, as I make my way to the door. It’s still early in the morning, which means that I have time to get home - to Neymar’s house, I mean - and pack my things before he gets back from room 36. I’ve been trying to keep my mind away from that particular subject all night, but there’s no point in pretending I don’t know the obvious. It was easier when I didn’t, but there is no going back now. He was with her. He’s been with her God knows how often. I open the door and almost step on something, or someone. Neymar is laying on his back right outside my door, sound asleep. He must have been camped out here for hours. His back is going to hurt when he wakes up, just like mine. I laugh at how ridiculous my thoughts are and the silhouette on the foor shifts. Wonderful.
“Y/N?” He mumbles groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning.” I step over him. “Goodbye.” He scrambles to his feet and catches up to me when I’m already in front of the elevator doors, pulling me back by my arm. “Please let me explain. I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.” Neymar starts talking so fast, that I can barely keep up. “I never wanted this to - I’m sorry. I know you’re mad, but if you just let me explain -” He seems so desperate to come up with some kind of explanation, some kind of dumb excuse, that he’s stuttering and makes absolutely no sense. “Do not touch me.” I yank my arm out of his hold. “Stop talking to me. There is nothing to explain. It’s all very clear. Go back to room 36, maybe she cares to listen to whatever you have to say.”
The elevator doors finally open and I step in, hoping this is going to be the end of this pointless conversation, but of course Neymar has to follow me inside. I can tell he still doesn’t know what to say. I guess an entire night of waiting outside my hotel room wasn’t enough to come up with a good enough excuse. The thought that no matter what he says, it’s going to be just that - an excuse, sends me right on the verge of crying again, but I stop the tears before they have a chance to make an appearance.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He sighs. “I’m never going back to her. I know I fucked up and there is no excuse, but it’s over now. I was going to tell you everything last night.” “Sure.” I laugh. “Before or after meeting her in her room? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? I don’t care whether or not you were going to tell me. I don’t give a fuck if it’s over or if you’re going back the second I leave. You slept with her and you lied to me and made me feel like complete crap for so long. You know, I was actually worried about you. I thought you were so tired from working as hard as you do. Poor Neymar. I was right about one thing, though. I just didn’t know what, or who, was getting you that worn out.” I’m yelling now. I must sound very angry judging from the way he backs away from me, but the truth is I’m sad and broken and hurt. Anything but mad. I should be furious, but I don’t have it in me. “I’m going to get my things and leave. Stay away from your house today and stay away from me forever.”
Neymar doesn’t say anything. He stares at me until the elevator doors open and watches me walk away. I should be relieved, but I’m a little disappointed. I don’t know what I expected him to say, because there really isn’t anything that could change or fix the situation, but I expected him to at least try. Once I’m safely outside the hotel, I burst into tears and this time I can’t control myself. It’s going to a long time before I stop.
One year later …
It’s been a year since I’ve been here. It’s been a whole entire year and that horrible day is still my main time reference. Well, it’s not like I’ve been living a particularily exciting life since then, but still. My biggest accomplishment in the past twelve months has been going for a grand total of two consecutive days without thinking of Neymar. In all honesty, I’m pretty sure that’s not right, but I like to pretend it is, because it makes me believe that at some point in time I will be able to just stop thinking about him. Being back in Barcelona isn’t really helping with that. I’ve succesfuly stayed away from this city for the past year, but Gerard’s birthday is this week and since human kind has yet to discover a way to say no to Shakira, here I am. I knew it was a bad idea when she first asked me to come and I’m still aware of the impending disaster as I park the car in front of their house. I’ve spent all day locked up in my hotel room, trying to talk myself into believing that there’s the slightest chance that I won’t run into Neymar at the party, because otherwise I would’ve been on the first plane back to New York. About an hour into the party, I’m siting by myself at this little bar in a secluded corner of their enormous backyard. Every single one of Gerard’s teammates has been invited, so I’ve been trying to keep my mingling to a minimum. Better safe than sorry and all that. I’m mindlessly playing with the little pink and completely useless umbrella in my Martini, thinking about how one of the first conversations I had with Neymar was at one of Shakira and Gerard’s parties, in this same backyard, when someone walks over and sits and the bar stool next to mine. I assume it’s Shakira, since she’s been checking on me every ten minutes, as if I were a child.
“Still here.” I keep my eyes on the umbrella. “I told you I’m going anywhere until the cake is served.” “Then you’re going to be here for a while, because Dani was in charge of picking up the cake and you know what happens when you put Dani in charge of anything ever.” The voice definitely doesn’t belong to Shakira. It’s been a while since I’ve heard it, but it’s engraved in my brain and I could recognize it anywhere. I lift my gaze and the most beautiful pair of green eyes is looking back at me.
Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s fine. No problem. It feels like my blood has turned into lava and my brain into mush. My heart is about to jump out of my chest and my breathing would have you think I’ve just ran a marathon. I may have managed to fool myself into thinking I no longer cared about him for the past year, but my body is determined to demonstrate the exact opposite tonight. Neymar’s eyes never leave mine as I examine his face. He has a bit of stubble going on and his hair is styled into a dark brown mohawk, as opposed to the blonde highlights he used to have, but other than that he looks the same as before. I don’t know why, but a wave of relief flows through me, like I’ve been waiting for so long to this face again. Which I have.
“Hi.” I whisper, suddenly aware of how close to him I leaned it. “Hi.” His lips curl into my favorite smile in the world, so I can’t help the silly grin that appears on my face. “You look beautiful. I’ve been watching you hide from me for a while, but I couldn’t stay away.” He chuckles. “You stayed away for a year.” My tone comes out more serious than I intended. “Isn’t that what you wanted? You told me to stay away forever.” He’s not smiling anymore, but he sounds amused. “Didn’t you mean it?” “I say a lot of things.” I sigh. “I needed time, so thank you for letting me have that. I’m really glad you came over, though. I secretly hoped you would.” “You knew I would.” There’s that smile again. “I miss you.” “Neymar - ” “No, I have to say this. It’s not going to change anything and you’ll never forgive me, but you have to know that I never went back to her. I never even saw Bruna again. I really was going to tell you that night. And I’m still so sorry for putting you through that.” His pleading eyes are locked on mine again and I’m amazed at how the same words he said then have a completely different meaning now. “I forgave you a long time ago.” I place my hand over his, on the bar. “You knew I would. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I mean, I love Gerard, but no birthday party is enough to make me fly across the world.” “So what is?” “Second chances.”
I have no idea where this came from. I definitely didn’t leave New York with the thought of second chances on my mind. I’ll admit that I hoped to see Neymar while I was here, but from a safe distance. Not with his hand in mine, talking about second chances. The way he looks at me when I say that, though, makes me forget all sense of logic. Maybe this is what I came here for, but I just didn’t know it. Neymar and I spend the next few hours in that same spot, with our fingers intertwined talking about our lives in the past twelve months. I graciously leave out the part about me locking myself in my studio apartment in New York for a week, so I could cry my eyes out and feel sorry for myself in peace and quiet and I know he has a similar story that he’s not telling me about. It’s like that part of our lives never happened. Like I never left and we’ve been here all this time, together. My hand is still comfortably resting in Neymar’s when he leads me through Gerard and Shakira’s house, to his car and drives us both back home.
“Watching people sleep is creepy.” I whisper, adjusting my eyes to the light in our bedroom. I’m a little confused to be waking up here again after all this time, but it feels so right that I don’t question it for a second. Neymar is lying next to me, carefully watching my every move. “Maybe, but if you love them it’s romantic.”