#Because there's nothing wrong with wanting to know everything

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤUGLY LOVEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Mark Grayson x Fem Reader Part 3

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : You couldn't do it anymore. You don't want this. You don't want this relationship, his love, him. And so you tried to end it...

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Mark was still holding you.

Still comforting you.

Still treating you like something fragile, something breakable, something precious.

And you couldn’t stand it.

You pulled away.

Abrupt. Sharp. Cold.

The warmth of Mark’s hands slipped from your skin, and for the first time tonight, you felt cold.

The sheets pooled around your waist as you sat up, forcing yourself to breathe, forcing yourself to keep the words from getting caught in your throat.

It was now or never.

"I want to break up."

The words came out blunt. Flat. Devoid of hesitation.

Mark froze.

Like the whole world had just stopped.

Like he couldn’t comprehend the words leaving your mouth.

"...What?"

You looked at him.

Really looked at him.

At the wide, confused eyes. The slight tremble of his lips. The complete and utter disbelief written across his face.

And you felt nothing.

No guilt. No hesitation. No regret.

Just exhaustion.

"I don’t want to be with you anymore," you repeated, each word precise, cutting, final.

Mark let out a soft laugh—short, breathless, like he thought this was some kind of joke.

Like you couldn’t possibly mean it.

"...Y-You’re just tired," he said quickly, stepping forward, reaching for your hands. "I—I get it, tonight was a lot, and you’re overwhelmed, but—"

You yanked your hands back.

His smile faltered.

His brows furrowed. "Wait—"

You clenched your jaw.

Of course he would do this.

"You’re not listening," you muttered, shoving the sheets off you and standing up.

"Y/N—"

You ignored him.

Started dressing.

Pulled on your underwear, your pants, your shirt—quick, efficient movements, not looking at him, not saying another word.

But Mark was following you.

Hovering.

Like a lost puppy.

"Wait—wait, please just talk to me," he said, his voice rising slightly, cracking at the edges, desperation leaking in. "Tell me what’s wrong—tell me why—"

You didn’t answer.

Didn’t even spare him a glance.

You just grabbed your things and headed for the door.

But before you could reach it—

Strong arms wrapped around you.

Tight. Unyielding.

A desperate, suffocating embrace.

Mark’s face buried in your hair, his breathing uneven, shaking.

And when you opened your mouth to yell at him—

He cut you off.

A soft, broken whisper—

"Please... Please don’t go."

You froze.

Because his voice—

It was wrong.

Fragile. Trembling.

Utterly, completely wrecked.

And then you felt it.

The way his body was shaking.

The wetness against your hair.

Mark was crying.

"I love you," he whispered, voice raw. "I love you so much—I can’t—I can’t do this without you—"

Your stomach twisted.

"Please don’t leave me," he begged, pressing his face deeper into your neck, his arms tightening around you like if he let go, you would disappear. "I don’t care if you’re mad, if you hate me—just don’t go—please, I’ll do anything—"

You shut your eyes.

Felt his tears against your skin.

Felt his hands trembling as they clung to you, gripping your clothes like they were the only thing keeping him grounded.

He was pathetic.

Completely and utterly pathetic.

And for the first time—

You felt sick.

Not at him.

But at yourself.

Because deep down, you had always known this would happen.

You had always known how much he loved you.

How much he needed you.

And still, you had let it go this far.

Still, you had taken everything from him.

And now, standing there, trapped in his arms, feeling his entire body shake against yours—

You didn’t know how to undo it.

Mark was seven years old when he lost his favorite comic.

And it was not just any comic.

Not just some random issue.

It was "Science Dog #1."

His prized possession. The one comic he loved more than anything. The one his dad gave him for his birthday, the one he read every night, the one he took everywhere—and now it was gone.

He sat on the curb outside the store, miserable, blinking fast to keep from crying.

He was not gonna cry.

He was not—

"Oi. The fuck’s up with you?"

A voice.

Mark looked up.

It was a girl.

She stood in front of him, arms crossed, chewing on a lollipop stick.

Her hoodie was too big for her. Her sneakers were busted. And her knees was absolutely destroyed—bruised, scraped, covered in Band-Aids like she got into a fight with a sidewalk and lost.

Mark blinked. "...What?"

She squinted.

Then—without asking—she dropped down next to him, legs sprawled out, rocking back on her hands like they’d been friends forever.

"You deaf?" she said. "I said— the fuck’s up with you?"

Mark’s brain short-circuited.

He just stared.

"...You cussed."

"Yeah?" She raised a brow. "And? Your dad gonna come outta nowhere and beat my ass?"

Mark frowned. "My dad doesn’t beat children."

"Well, mine does."

Mark had no idea what to say to that.

"Why you look like you just watched your dog get shot?"

Mark gasped. "WHAT?!"

"I’m asking why you look sad, dipshit."

After an awkward silence, he just mumbled, "I lost my comic."

She tilted her head. "Okay?"

"It was my favorite one," he muttered.

She let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"Jesus Christ. You’re seriously out here looking like your whole family just got shot ‘cause you lost a comic?"

Mark flushed. "It was Science Dog #1!"

She froze.

Eyes widening.

Then—

"PFFFT—"

She started laughing.

Mark’s face burned. "It’s not funny!"

"Yes, it is!" She wiped a fake tear.

Mark grumbled, crossing his arms. "You're rude."

"And you suck!" she shot back instantly, shoving his shoulder. "Damn, you’re a whiny little bitch."

Mark’s mouth dropped open. "You can’t just say that!"

"Yeah? What are you, my mom?"

He gawked. "You smell."

"And you’re still crying over a comic book."

Mark huffed. "It was important."

"...Tch." She clicked her tongue, thinking. Then, she stood up.

"Alright, Crybaby, let’s go."

Mark blinked. "Huh?"

She shrugged. "I got money. You in or what?"

Mark lit up. "Really?!"

"Yeah, yeah, don’t nut yourself over it, Jesus." She cracked her knuckles. "Let’s go, before I change my mind."

Mark practically jumped to his feet.

He followed her across the street, into the tiny comic book store he loved so much, his heart racing with excitement.

The comic shop was small, but perfect—rows of shelves stacked with old issues, that perfect scent of paper and ink filling the air.

Mark immediately found the new Science Dog #1 reprint.

His heart soared. "I found it!"

But when he turned—

She was gone.

Mark blinked. "Uh—?"

Then—

"HEY!!! YOU LITTLE BITCH—!"

Mark jumped.

The store owner yelled from behind the counter, scrambling out of his chair.

And then—

SHE CAME SPRINTING OUT.

Laughing.

"RUN, LOSER!" she screeched, grabbing his wrist.

Mark didn’t even have time to react.

He just ran.

His legs scrambled to keep up as she dragged him down the street, the old man behind them shouting, "GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!"

Mark panicked. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I GOT YOU THE FUCKING COMIC!" she cackled.

Mark’s heart stopped. "YOU STOLE IT?!"

"YOU SAID YOU WANTED IT!"

"NOT LIKE THIS!"

But she was laughing—laughing like she’d never had more fun in her life, gripping his wrist as they ran through the alley, dodging trash cans and stray cats until—

They finally stopped.

Panting.

Gasping for breath.

Mark was wheezing.

"You—" he gasped. "You—stole it—"

"Duh." She smirked, holding up the comic. "Here ya go, loser."

Mark stared.

"Don’t say I never did anything good for ya," she said, giving him a mocking little salute.

Mark hesitated.

Then—very slowly—he reached out and took it.

Held it in his hands.

It was real.

He looked back at her. "...Thanks?"

She grinned.

Then—

He saw the other two comics.

The special edition ones.

The glass-case ones.

The ones that were not for sale.

His soul left his body.

"YOU STOLE THOSE TOO?!"

"I— didn’t want you to feel like a broke bitch," she shrugged. "Figured I’d grab the good shit while I was at it."

"WE’RE GONNA GO TO JAIL!"

"Relax, nerd, no one’s gonna catch us." She patted his cheek. "Now take ‘em before I change my mind."

Mark wanted to die.

He looked around, panicking. "We have to take them back!"

She snorted. "Yeah, no."

"WE STOLE FROM HIM!"

"I stole from him," she corrected, poking his chest. "You just stood there looking pretty."

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!"

She sighed dramatically. "Damn, you whine more than my little cousin." she shoving the comics into his hands. "Just shut up and take ‘em."

Mark stared at them.

Then back at her.

"...Why?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

Mark swallowed. "Why’d you steal them for me?"

She stared.

Then she rubbed the back of her neck. "...I dunno. You looked pathetic as shit."

Mark froze.

Before he could say anything—

She punched his chest.

Not hard. Just a light fist bump.

"Atta boy."

Then she grinned, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pockets.

"See ya around, loser."

And then—

She just walked off.

Laughing.

Mark stood there.

Holding stolen comics.

Heart pounding.

Mouth slightly open.

That was the first time he ever saw her.

And even though he was horrified—

Something in his chest...

Felt warm.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— NEXT ☆ Part 1. Part 2.

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[mcflymemes]

"I'M KIND BECAUSE I CHOOSE TO BE" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for remaining good despite it all, adjust as necessary

they've suffered enough.

i have seen the worst that humanity has to offer... and yet i'm still standing.

the world can keep knocking me down, but i'll get back up.

i don't give up.

i just want to live a peaceful life.

i don't want conflict.

there were nicer ways to ask that, you know.

i don't want to hurt anybody.

i still don't hate you.

i want peace at all costs.

if you would only try and see the world from my point of view.

i don't want to fight with you.

things always get better.

this isn't the end.

you have to stand tall.

the world is cruel, but i won't be.

i believe in you. i always have.

my morals are firm.

there's no harm in a little kindness.

just be gentle with them.

i mean well.

there's too much pain in this world. i don't intend to add to it.

i don't want to fight anyone.

don't you believe in yourself?

i'm not leaving them.

there is enough hate in this world.

i try to lead with love.

it's the right thing to do.

this doesn't have to end in violence.

why don't we talk this through?

maybe he's having a bad day.

i'm going to try again.

there has to be another way to do this.

this isn't the time to quit.

i've seen too many things go wrong. this has to go right.

i'm not giving up just yet.

kindness is not weakness.

you can do better than that.

i try to see the good in everyone.

you can't just give up!

you're a special person.

i deserve better than this.

you deserve happiness.

it costs nothing to be kind.

there's no need to be so mean.

if only you could see yourself the way i see you.

it's still a beautiful day.

there's always tomorrow.

are you asking me to quit?

tomorrow will be better.

you didn't mean that, did you?

maybe we should talk this out.

i will always choose to be kind.

despite everything, i just want to be good.

i do my best to see the good in everyone, no matter what.

you didn't have to do that.

that wasn't very nice.

do you have to be so rude?

a nice word goes a long way.

try smiling at them. see what happens.

you could try being nicer.

i deserve a happy ending.

don't beat yourself up.

don't talk about yourself like that.

i see the goodness in you.

life is truly beautiful.

[lotuzies]

𝜗𝜚 humanizing your dr — and why you don't necessarily need it.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⌗﹒ there are countless posts that will help you "humanize your dr", in other words, make it seem a bit more "realistic". now, although i am not against it, i mean sure, it's great for visualization, i'm not entirely for it, because it's following the premise that shifting requires a detailed process, requires specific steps in order to do it, and that's just not true.

i have seen many shifting content creators (specially on shifttok (get out of there) (seriously)) claiming that the reason why you haven't shifted yet is because you put your dr on a pedestal, then they proceed to "humanize it", listing a bunch of struggles you might encounter when you shift.

now, let me make clear the bottom line of this post: the way you perceive your desired reality does NOT influence whether you shift or not.

when someone claims that the way you perceive your dr is wrong, or that is something that needs to be changed/improved, they are reinforcing the idea that in order to shift you NEED something, you need to do certain things. (and thats WRONGGGGGHSJSHQGGAG)

shifting is simply putting your perception of this reality to another. that's it. that is the definition of shifting, that is the only thing you actually need to do.

as long as you keep endlessly looking for ways to try and stop putting your dr on a pedestal, the more you will keep persisting on the idea that something NEEDS to be changed, that shifting is this whole difficult process. and if you're familiar with the law of assumption, you already know where this is going, persisting = manifesting it into reality. and just like that, you end up in this loop of searching for something that doesn't exist in the first place.

also, this goes hand in hand with the fact that you don't necessarily need visualization. i do believe it's a great tool to shift, at least for me, but not a must due to the same reason i already listed above. so if you're not great with it, stop stressing about it.

so, it genuinely doesn't matter if you put your dr on a pedestal or if you don't even care for it as much — you are already there, the only thing you'll do is perceive it.

"alright izzy, nice! but how do i change my perception to there, then?"

ehhh, it's not really changing, it's more about recognizing it, because, like i said, you are already there. once again, nothing NEEDS to be CHANGED, stop chasing that "something", stop living in that illusion.

as to how you actually recognize it, i can't really tell you something concrete because it's different for everyone, and i'm sure you've seen thousands of methods, some may work better for you then others. what you can do is implement this new info into your attempts. (still, i can make a post explaining what works for me and why it does)

in other words: put your dr on a pedestal all you want, it's okay. WHY would that even stop you lmao?

also, lil side note: but i HATEEE when people say "humanizing your dr" (as in telling you that's what's stopping you from shifting) and then list a bunch of stuff like "oh you'll stub your toe!" "you'll get sick" "you'll break your nail!" mf if i shift to a reality where that doesn't happen simply because i am a god, then what. THEN WHAT. not everything needs to be realistic or logical. gosh. (it's fine if u do it just for visualizing tho)

that is all, byebye & go shift

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Beyond Misconceptions

summary: joaquin is usually the poster child for positivity, but sometimes the doubt creeps in.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

contents: angst, jealous/insecure!joaquin, arguing, depictions of anxiety

wc: 1,675

an: based on this requested concept! it went a bit different than expected but i hope yall still enjoy <3 (and also hope it will hold yall over until vuelve pt. v is done!!!)

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Most of the time, Joaquin loves his job. He loves the brother he’s found in Sam, the tangible way he sees himself helping people day in and day out. The feeling of soaring through the sky, the invincibility that he seems to find in the wind.

But, what Joaquin doesn’t love about the job is the rift that it can sometimes create between you. One could say he’s being dramatic by using the word rift— you have never once complained, never made him feel guilty for the unpredictability of his schedule.

You always tell him that you know what you signed up for when you fell in love with him. And you do.

Joaquin is certainly grateful for your love and understanding, but it’s days like today that make him want to find some 9-5 to nurse.

When he steps into the party you two were meant to attend together an hour and a half late, he’s eager to see you. That eagerness twists into something ugly when he sees you. You, standing in a group, but primarily talking to some guy he doesn’t recognize.

You look…happy. Happy to be talking with a guy who showed up on time. With a guy who doesn’t put his life on the line, and your relationship on hold at the drop of a hat.

He can’t decide what he wants to do more— leave and let you be happy or put himself between you and this mystery guy.

As if you can feel him, you glance over in his direction, lighting up at the sight of him. That restless mix of jealousy and guilt fades a little with you so excited to see him.

“Quino,” You call to him, waving him over. When he makes it to you, you reach for his hand immediately, drawing him so that you can place a kiss on his cheek. “Made in one piece, I see, cariño.”

“Siempre lo hago,” he murmurs, snaking an arm around your waist. “So who’s this?”

You introduce Joaquin to the guy easily, slipping him into the conversation without missing a beat. Paul. Joaquin nods along, lets you pull him closer, listens as you chat, and laughs like nothing is wrong. Like he wasn’t late. Like you weren’t having a perfectly good time without him.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He does. It’s just that tonight feels like a reminder of everything he isn’t—someone who shows up on time, someone whose job doesn’t put you second. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe it doesn’t matter, but it still twists something sharp in his chest.

His grip tightens just slightly on your waist. You glance up at him, brows furrowing in quiet question, but he just shakes his head, forcing a small smile. You don’t push, but something in your gaze lingers. You know him too well. You always do.

You’re driving the two of you home, music spilling softly out of the speaker when you decide to break the tension that’s been building.

“So what was that?”

“What was what?”

“You were being…possessive?” The word comes out of your mouth like a question because you’re not entirely sure. Nothing like this has ever happened with Joaquin— it’s unfamiliar territory.

“Claro que no,” he insists.

You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes. “Yeah, because that wasn’t defensive at all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your eyes flicker over at him momentarily, and you soften at his visible tension. You’re gentler when you speak again, “Soy yo, Quino. We don’t lie to each other, we don’t do this… jealous thing that you did tonight. I don’t know that guy, I probably won’t ever see him again and I’m fine with that.”

“It wasn’t about that.”

“Oh, but it was about something? What could I have possibly done when I hadn’t seen you in days?”

“Querida— you didn’t do anything— it’s not… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You purse your lips, feeling a little frustrated. “I want you to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. And if you can’t now, then think about it and we’ll talk about it before bed. Deal?”

The silence stretches between you, the music sounding much louder in the wake of your breaths.

Eventually, Joaquin says begrudgingly, “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

“You,” He says softly, and nothing more.

—

Once you and Joaquin get home, you don’t push. You refuse to when he’s being so elusive, so guarded in a way he’s never been. You aren’t really sure what to do with it and it makes your stomach churn. You make your way straight to the shower without so much of a glance in his direction.

Joaquin wants to call after you, but can’t find his voice. Not a surprise when he feels his mind is completely scrambled.

All of this has tilted you off your axis. You make sure the water is scalding hot, hoping that the steam will steep out your thoughts of insecurity and unease. By the time you make it out, it just feels like they’ve grown louder, rooting deeper into your brain stem.

You make your way into the kitchen, walking past Joaquin where he’s sat on the couch. He watches you quietly as you make tea, unsure if you still want to talk or if he’s created the catalyst for his worst fear; losing you.

“So are we gonna talk about it or are you gonna keep staring at me?”

“Mi amor—“

You huff as you sit the chair across from him, “No, don’t mi amor me when you won’t even tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s not that I won’t, it’s that—“

“If you say you can’t, Joaquin, te juro por Dios.”

“I was gonna say that I’m struggling to figure out how. There’s too much up here, you know that. Usually, it’s just cheery.”

“I’m not asking you to be cheery, I’m asking you to be honest.”

Joaquin sighs, leaning forward to place his face in his hands. “When I saw you with him, I just— it made me wonder if you deserve better than me.”

Your brow furrows. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re in a relationship with a man you’re going to outlive. I’m never home, I’m always late as hell. Every day I force you to wait— for me or for a call that’ll break your heart. Don’t you think you deserve somebody that can be there for you? Someone, you aren’t afraid of losing every damn day?”

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose to start this with you. I know that you want to be around and be more consistent, but Quino, you’re out there saving the world. I can’t ask you to put down your dreams because you missed the first hour of a party.”

“I‘ve missed more than just an hour of a party. What happens when it’s our wedding? Or if you get sick? What if you need me and I miss something big? That guy, he could give you that.”

You lean forward, reaching across the coffee table to place your hand over his. “Then we’ll reschedule. Or my parents will take care of me. Or I’ll need you and I’ll be really sad that you’re not there but eventually, you will be. I don’t give a fuck about that guy. I don’t even remember his name. What I do remember, is how much I love you and how long it took me to have the courage to tell you that.”

Joaquin looks down at your hands before interlacing your fingers together. Your words soothe him even as he wrestles with the fact that he wants to give you more. He’ll try to give you more— you deserve it and so does the health of your relationship.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you?” you challenge, wanting him to truly think about it.

There are things about your relationship with Joaquin that are less than ideal and certainly compromise but that’s part of love. Compromising and making things work with the people that you love. Joaquin is loyal, loving, and tender; he always makes you laugh and takes your feelings seriously. He just happens to be a superhero, one you have to share with the world.

How selfish would it be to take him away from people that need him?

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “I’m sure. ¿Me dirás si algo cambia?”

“Lo prometo.”

Joaquin leans back into the couch, patting his lap, “Ven.”

You quickly make your way to sit in his lap, wrapping both your arms around his neck as you let your legs dangle across the couch.

“Te amo, princesa.”

“I know, I love you too,” you murmur, running a hand affectionately through his hair.

Joaquin’s eyes fall to your lips, and when he finally leans in, his mouth brushes yours softly, a quiet promise that everything will be okay. His thumb traces your cheek, and it feels like all the unsaid words are finally spoken in the wax and wane of this gentle kiss. You close your eyes, grounding yourself in the feeling of him, of home. As he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath shaky, and you both linger there, knowing that in this moment, everything is enough.

After several moments of silence, Joaquin’s lips find your ear, “Paul.”

You lean away from where you’d gotten comfortable on his chest to look at him quizzically. “What?”

“The guy’s name— fucking Paul.”

You laugh, shaking the both of you. “I’ve already forgotten again. I’m more focused on this marriage you’ve mentioned.”

“I’m thinking under the cherry blossoms.”

“You should think about the blow your bank account is gonna take getting me a ring.”

Joaquin raises a brow at you, “Who says I don’t already have it, hermosa?”

You squint at him— usually, you’re pretty good at telling if he’s bluffing but his features are smoothed into the perfect poker face. “You lying?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out, baby.”

lmk if you'd like to be on the sfw (or nsfw for 18+) joaquin taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @moonymeloncholymoney

[victusinveritas]

comment that I'm replying to from @twinitiate:

-I lost my original comment because I clicked the wrong button, but... To my knowledge, the CIA never really made that much of an effort to hide their involvement (setting up little nationalist 'democratic' revolutions was just kind of what they did, for funzies and practice before the Big Nationalist Capitalist Democratic Uprising that knocked over Russia and...that didn't really go off like that but the Company could dream as it killed lots of innocent people in the process--the Soviets did the same thing where possible, it's what empires, regardless of their political bents, do to other empires).

Want to read a depressing book about this? Yes, you do (blog review here). Check out The Cold War's Killing Fields by Paul Chamberlin (review from The Nation here) or another book by Luthi (Cold Wars) To my knowledge, there isn't evidence (yet) linking Nagy to the CIA, he just got caught holding the bag. The Dulles Bros were definitely whispering in the ears of everyone involved that, "sure, now that the Secret Speech happened and Rákosi is being a total dictator [accurate, the guy was fucker, though not nearly as bad as his predecessor], like Stalin-level man, Comrade Khrushchev will totally be cool, like so cool man, with you forming a National Communist government that is more Hungarian than it is Soviet and maybe getting out of the Warsaw Pact and just being neutral in everything and then we'll totally help you out, man." Because that's what Voice of America was there for, just...not too subtly pushing people to throw of the yoke of their oppressor if that oppressor ultimately happened to be Moscow (if it wasn't Moscow, was it really a yoke? Wasn't it just a country trying to best by all of its citizens through the democratic process).

Nagy and co proceed to have a revolution, which...goes well until the tanks show up, and then it goes bad. The CIA meanwhile kind of looks on and goes "Well yeah see the problem there was you didn't have any tanks of your own. No we're not going to provide them to you! That would start a war, with the USSR, we're not...doing that, openly, because that's bad. We're just...pushing you to do it. Ya know, for your own good. And when we said help you out, we meant help you out out, like out of the country, if you wanted to leave when the T-54s went from being hypothetical to very, very, very concrete. But like you have to get to the border first, we're...not actually going in anywhere dangerous, we just...don't do that. It's not that we can't, it's that we don't want to. Also, good to know you've got goddamn Slendermnagy Pál, he'll definitely scare the Russians, notoriously skittish around tall guys as some of them are." The CIA says all of this while smoking cigarettes that may or may not be just covered in LSD which you wouldn't think you could smoke but it was a different time.

The Hungarian Revolution, along with maybe the suppression of the Poznan Protests, some strike-breaking in the DDR with tanks (coal miners if I recall correctly), Prague 1968) gave the Soviets and their supporters the name "Tankies" (not incorrectly, turns out sending in tanks to crush protestors is kind of a douche move--then again, so is bombing Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia to glass and then encouraging genocides and disappearances (looks at history books) shit, everywhere). Stupid and vaguely related little family story: My father was born in 1943, and told me once about his experience listening to the radio in Catholic school (he would have been 13) taught by a Hungarian priest who was absolutely weeping over both the Hungarian Revolution being crushed and the US doing nothing to stop it. The same priest ran them through a "Was it good to bomb Hiroshima and Nagasaki?" scenario that pissed off some parents (because he was like, no probably not anyway and definitely not Nagasaki) who had served in WWII and saw the bombings as saving their lives (at the expense of people who 'had it coming anyway because of Pearl Harbor'). Anyhow, whenever my father talked about the Cold War he'd always both preface and end things with "Nobody won, everybody lost, to think there was a good guy (and that it might have been either America or the Soviet Union) was woefully naive."

Cartoon by Bill Mauldin.

Tankies forever vindicated as the declassified information about JFK shows that the Hungarian Revolution was indeed a CIA-sponsored color revolution

[chansdoll]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ현진ㅤㅤ♡ㅤㅤnot just friendsㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

★ pairing。nonidol!hyunjin x afab!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g. ╰・  angst , smut‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。 unprotected sex , oral (f. receiving) , they're in love your honor wc。 4.3k

lana's note!  ᰍᩚ this is kinda like a friends to lovers type thing except it starts late in the situationship phase, idk what this is tbh, i got bored and thought of it

♡ masterlist

it was a typical friday night, the kind of party everyone in your class had been buzzing about for days. a packed house, music pulsing through the walls, the air thick with alcohol and the sharp bite of too many cheap colognes. you were there, perched on the worn-out couch in the sunroom with your friends, half-listening as they gushed over the guys at the party. the room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from a few tangled strings of fairy lights that flickered unevenly, casting soft shadows across the walls.

you wanted to be here—at least, that’s what you told yourself. you liked the distraction, the way alcohol dulled the edges of emotions you refused to acknowledge. lately, those emotions had been clawing at your chest, threatening to spill over, and drinking was the only thing that kept them at bay. you weren’t about to let yourself feel, not when feeling meant risking getting hurt again.

then, as if on cue, he walked in.

hyunjin.

your heart lurched the second your eyes landed on him, a cruel reminder of something you wanted but could never have. he strolled in effortlessly, his presence commanding attention without even trying, flanked by felix and changbin. his dark eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene, and then—inevitably—they found you.

you didn’t think. you just acted. without hesitation, you tipped your glass back, downing the rest of your drink in one go. the burn of the alcohol was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the one that only seemed to grow stronger every time he was near. you needed more. more to drink, more distance, more anything to push away the emotions threatening to surface.

hyunjin noticed. of course, he did.

he didn’t say anything right away, but you felt his eyes on you—watching, assessing. he always had this way of looking at you, like he was trying to solve a puzzle only he could see. he could tell something was wrong, that you were struggling, but he didn’t know why.

and you weren’t about to let him find out.

for years, you and hyunjin had been inseparable. what started as a simple friendship—born from long nights studying together, laughing over inside jokes, and supporting each other through the highs and lows of life—evolved into something deeper, something unspoken. he was your safe place, and you were his. but neither of you ever crossed that line, both too scared to risk what you had.

then, everything changed.

a few months ago, you went through a painful breakup, one that left you reeling. you had trusted, loved, and given your heart away—only to have it shattered. the pain made you wary, hesitant to let anyone get too close again. and hyunjin, ever the patient friend, had been there for you through it all. he never pushed, never asked for more than you could give. he just stayed.

but one night, after too many drinks and too many lingering stares, you found yourself in his arms in a way you never had before. it wasn’t just a moment of weakness—it was comfort, desperation, need. what was supposed to be a one-time thing became something neither of you could walk away from. it started with stolen kisses behind closed doors, tangled sheets, and hushed promises of this doesn’t mean anything. but as the weeks passed, something shifted.

the sex turned softer, more intimate. he would press lingering kisses to your temple, trace gentle patterns on your skin afterward. you would wake up in his bed, wrapped in his warmth, and pretend you didn’t crave staying longer. it was dangerous—because the more time you spent wrapped up in hyunjin, the harder it became to deny what was happening between you.

but you had to deny it.

because falling for him meant opening yourself up again. and after what you had been through, you weren’t sure you could survive that kind of heartbreak twice.

so you pushed him away. again. and again.

but hyunjin wasn’t stupid. he saw through every excuse, every attempt to put distance between you. he knew you felt it too—knew you were running from something real. and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart ached every time you saw him.

and now, as your eyes met his, from across the kitchen, the ache in your chest grew. 

it didn’t take long for you to get tipsy enough to crave hyunjin’s touch—his warmth, his presence—and he welcomed you with open arms. before you knew it, you were stumbling into a bedroom upstairs, hands everywhere, lips colliding in desperate, messy kisses.

his fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer, and you clutched at his shirt, tugging at the fabric until it bunched against his ribs. he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it aside before his mouth crashed back to yours—hot and needy.

“you look so good tonight,” he muttered, voice low and breathless against your lips. his hands slid down to your hips, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

you barely remembered falling onto the mattress—all you remembered was the way hyunjin followed, crawling over you with that same hunger burning in his eyes. his lips moved down your neck, biting and kissing and tasting while your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer.

everything blurred—clothes tugged and tossed aside, warm skin pressed against yours. your breaths mingled in the charged air, messy and uneven.

he kissed down your body, his mouth hot and teasing as he moved lower. you gasped when his lips ghosted over your inner thigh, and then you moaned outright when he pressed a lingering kiss to your mound.

“hyun—” you whined, but your words melted into a sharp gasp when his tongue met your clit. he licked you like he was savoring you, dragging his tongue in slow, deliberate circles before closing his lips around your most sensitive spot. a deep groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you. he was lost in it—lost in you—his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you from squirming away.

“fuck—oh my god,” you gasped, clutching at the sheets as the pressure in your core built rapidly. his fingers flexed harder against your skin, his nails digging into your flesh, and your body tensed.

“i’m—shit, i’m cumming,” you cried out, your body shaking violently as the pleasure crashed over you.

he didn’t stop—not right away. he kept licking, sucking, savoring every bit of you until the overstimulation forced you to gently push his head away. even then, he lingered, leaving a messy kiss against your soaked folds before rising to his feet.

his cock was heavy in his boxers, the outline thick and prominent as he hurriedly shoved the fabric down. he crawled over you again, kissing you roughly—hungry, like he needed this, needed you.

“you’re driving me insane,” he rasped against your lips, his hand fumbling to spread your thighs wider. his cock bobbed against your slick entrance, and you reached down, guiding him inside you.

he pushed in slowly, groaning low in his throat as you stretched around him. the feeling was overwhelming—the heat, the weight of him pressed so perfectly against you.

it started fast and frantic—hips grinding together in messy desperation. you clung to him, his skin warm and slick beneath your fingertips, both of you chasing something primal and raw. but somewhere in the haze of it all, something shifted.

his kisses deepened, slowing to something softer, something felt. his fingers laced with yours, pinning your hand beside your head as he rocked into you, deep and deliberate. his forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shaky against your lips.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice strained like he was holding himself back. his free hand trailed along your waist, down to your thigh, where his fingers dug in just enough to ground you.

it was too much—his body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly. the way he whispered your name, soft and reverent, like you were something precious.

your heart raced, your breath hitched, and before you could stop it, the pressure in your core unraveled once more. it rushed through you fast and hard, making your body arch beneath him.

“f-fuck,” you choked out, and then—without thinking, without meaning to—you said it.

“i love you.”

the words tumbled from your lips right as you reached your peak, your body trembling beneath him as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

hyunjin stilled for half a second, his hips stuttering before he fully realized what you had said. his breath hitched—and somehow, those three words undid him.

“shit—” his voice broke as he pushed all the way inside you, burying himself deep as his own orgasm tore through him. a string of groans left his lips, shaky and breathless, as he filled you with his release.

you barely registered the warmth spreading inside you—you were too lost in your own head, panic settling in like ice beneath your skin. you clung to him, your breath unsteady, trying to ignore the weight of what had just slipped out.

you couldn’t take it back.

and somehow, that terrified you more than anything.

the air felt heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t name. neither of you spoke as you pulled your clothes back on—hyunjin grabbing his shirt from the floor while you reached for your dress, still crumpled on the edge of the bed.

he moved slower than usual, his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds like he was trying to find the right words. you knew what was coming—you could feel it.

“you meant it, didn’t you?” his voice was soft but certain.

you froze for a beat, fingers faltering at the zipper of your dress. “what?”

“you know what,” he said, stepping closer. “what you said before.”

you swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do,” he insisted, his voice firm now.

“i don’t.” you turned to face him, zipping your dress the rest of the way with a sharp tug. “i was tipsy. we were... caught up in the moment. i don’t even remember half of what i said.”

it wasn’t true—you remembered everything. the way his body felt against yours, the warmth of his breath, the way the words had just spilled out before you could stop them. but admitting that? no chance.

hyunjin scoffed softly, raking a hand through his hair. “sure,” he muttered, his tone dry. “whatever you say.”

“yeah,” you snapped, grabbing your purse from the nightstand. “whatever i say.”

you knew you were being cold, but you couldn’t stop yourself. it was easier to shut him out than to face what had just happened. because if you did—if you let yourself feel it—you knew you’d fall too hard. and after everything you’d been through, that was a risk you couldn’t take.

“are you coming?” you asked, barely sparing him a glance before heading for the door.

hyunjin didn’t answer right away. but when you reached the hallway, you heard his footsteps behind you, following you back to the party like nothing had happened.

only it had. and you knew there was no running from it for long.

the next day, hyunjin sent you a text:

hey. wanna grab coffee?

you stared at the message for a long time, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. you typed out a few responses—sure, i can’t, i’m sorry—but you deleted them all. nothing felt right.

you felt awful. awful for how you snapped at him, awful for pretending like nothing had happened, and even worse for how scared you were. scared of opening up, scared of hurting him, scared of getting hurt yourself. you couldn’t risk that. not again.

so, for the first time since you and hyunjin had been friends, you turned off your read receipts.

and of course, he noticed.

hyunjin lay on his dorm bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen like he could will a reply out of you. his text still sat unread, no confirmation that you’d seen it. he knew you were acting cold—he wasn’t stupid. ever since that night, you’d been distant, avoiding eye contact, cutting conversations short, disappearing whenever he walked into a room.

he knew you were dealing with things—your breakup had left you guarded, pulling away from everyone who tried to get close. but he thought he was different. he thought he was helping.

the next evening, he found himself wandering to one of the campus cafés—somewhere you both used to go all the time. it was crowded, filled with clusters of students cramming for exams or killing time between classes.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were tucked into the corner by the window, sitting across from some guy hyunjin didn’t recognize. he looked your age, maybe a little older, with an easy smile that made hyunjin’s stomach churn.

he watched from a distance, eyes narrowing as the guy leaned closer, whispering something that made you laugh—actually laugh. the sound made hyunjin’s chest tighten.

his mind raced. maybe this was nothing—just some classmate, someone you bumped into. but the way you smiled... the way you twirled your straw between your fingers, leaning in just a little closer... it felt different.

he told himself it wasn’t a big deal, that you were allowed to spend time with whoever you wanted.

but deep down, it felt like he was losing you.

hyunjin was standing near the counter, waiting for his order. he was dressed casually—sweatpants and a hoodie—but he still managed to stand out.

your heart dropped.

for a second, you just stared. he looked tired, his face drawn in a way that made guilt gnaw at your insides. his phone was in his hand, his thumb flicking over the screen like he was checking for something—checking for you.

when he finally looked up, your eyes locked.

your breath hitched.

his gaze hardened, just slightly, his face unreadable. you knew that look—it was the one he gave when he was hurt but refused to show it.

the guy across from you kept talking, laughing at his own joke, but you couldn’t hear a word of it. hyunjin’s eyes flicked from you to the guy sitting at your table, and something in his expression shifted—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place.

you dropped your gaze, suddenly unable to hold it. your fingers curled around your drink, knuckles going white from how tightly you gripped it.

“you okay?” the guy asked, finally noticing your sudden silence.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile that felt thin and strained. “i’m fine.”

the soft glow of the moonlight slipped through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the room. you stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the night pressing against your chest. the silence was suffocating, and yet your thoughts wouldn’t let you escape.

tossing onto your side, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself, the heat from your body offering no comfort. your mind refused to quiet. you couldn’t stop thinking about him — about hyunjin.

it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to feel so lost. so fucking confused. you had been fine before, or at least, you thought you were. you hadn’t expected to fall into something like this with him.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. you were afraid — of what, exactly, you weren’t even sure. afraid of letting him in, afraid of loving him, afraid of not being good enough to keep him. every time you let yourself get close to him, the fear crept in, and now it had spiraled into this mess of misunderstandings and regrets.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shut out the thoughts, but they only grew louder. you had pushed him away. you had hurt him, and now... now you were ruining everything. your friendship with hyunjin, the one thing that had been consistent in your life, was slipping through your fingers. you were scared. so scared of what he might mean to you, what you might mean to him.

the tears came unbidden, hot and fast. you rolled onto your back, unable to control the sobs that wracked your chest. you thought of all the things you should have said to him, of how he looked at you that night, how his warmth had felt like the one thing that made you feel whole.

but you pushed him away. you always pushed people away.

you reached for your phone, desperate for a distraction. maybe scrolling through your gallery would give you something to focus on, anything to get you out of your head.

your thumb swiped through the photos — random things at first. selfies from random nights out, pictures of your friends, screenshots of texts that no longer seemed relevant. then you saw them. the ones with hyunjin.

you paused, your thumb frozen over the screen. your breath caught in your throat as your eyes traced the photos. the first one was a silly selfie the two of you had taken during one of those late-night study sessions. he had made a face, pulling a stupid expression, and you had laughed so hard you almost cried. the memory of his laughter filled your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh.

then there was the one from that night at his place. you remembered it so clearly — your faces so close, your smiles so real. he had kissed you right after that photo, and you had felt a rush of something deep in your chest, something that made your stomach flutter. you had felt seen, wanted.

but you weren’t ready for that.

another swipe.

this time, a picture of the two of you on the couch after a party. your bodies were close, his arm draped over your shoulders. you were looking at each other, and in that look, you saw something more than just friendship. it scared you, that look. you couldn’t handle it. you couldn’t handle him. you had to keep your distance, even if it meant hurting him.

you scrolled further, and the next picture stopped your heart. it was taken the last time the two of you had been alone together. the photo was intimate, suggestive — you both had been fooling around, your faces flushed with desire. it wasn’t a moment of passion, not like you had imagined when you thought about what you two might become. it was a mess of emotions, blurred lines, and you had let it happen. you had let him in, even when you told yourself you never would.

you should have stopped it.

you should have never let yourself fall into this.

you closed your eyes, and suddenly, the weight of everything hit you all at once. your chest tightened, your breathing shallow as you clutched the phone to your chest. you ruined it. you ruined everything.

you were never enough. you were never going to be enough.

the tears started again, harder this time, as the realization crushed you. you had pushed him away, scared of your own feelings, and now you were paying the price. you had been so selfish, so afraid of letting yourself want him.

and now you had lost him.

the quiet of your dorm room seemed to mock you as you sat there, body shaking with sobs. you had pushed him to the point where he probably wouldn’t even look at you the same way anymore. you had destroyed the one thing that had meant something to you, and no matter how much you wanted to fix it, you couldn’t.

you ruined it.

you ruined him.

the bass thumped through the walls of the campus bar, the low vibrations buzzing against your chest. your friends’ laughter rang out beside you, but you barely heard it — your mind had been clouded all night. the drink in your hand had grown warm, condensation pooling under your fingertips.

you were trying — really trying — to forget. to drown out the memories of hyunjin’s touch, his voice, the way he looked at you before you pushed him away. but no amount of alcohol could drown out what was festering inside you.

and then you saw him.

hyunjin was at the far end of the bar, his elbow braced against the counter, swirling his drink in his hand. his hair was damp — maybe from the rain outside, maybe from sweat — but he still looked too good. his jaw was tight, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. he looked... off.

your stomach flipped. he hadn’t seen you yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.

"i need some air," you muttered to your friends, barely registering their response as you grabbed your bag and moved quickly toward the exit.

but you weren’t fast enough.

"y/n?"

his voice cut through the noise like a knife.

panic shot through you, your heart racing. you didn’t turn around — couldn’t. you shoved through the crowd, weaving between bodies until you finally stumbled out the front door and into the cold night.

rain poured from the sky, cold droplets clinging to your skin as you rushed down the sidewalk. your breath hitched, your chest tightening. you just needed to get away — far enough that the guilt would stop clawing at you, far enough that hyunjin wouldn’t follow.

but he did.

"y/n!"

his voice rang out behind you, sharp and angry. you heard the fast steps of his shoes slapping against wet pavement.

"stop!"

you didn’t stop — you couldn’t. your pulse thundered in your ears, but suddenly his hand grabbed your arm, jerking you back.

"what the hell is your problem?" his voice was tight, breathless, but unmistakably angry. his hair clung to his forehead, strands dripping with rain. "are you just gonna keep running from me forever?"

"hyunjin, let go," you said weakly, but your voice wavered.

"no." his grip didn’t tighten, but he didn’t let go. "you’ve been avoiding me for days. i texted you, i called you — hell, i’ve been waiting for you to just say something. but instead, i see you here — acting like none of it ever happened. like i don’t even fucking exist."

"i can’t do this," you whispered, voice barely audible over the rain. you pulled your arm from his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself like it could hold you together. "i just... i can’t."

"why?" his voice cracked. "why are you doing this? did i... did i do something wrong?"

you shook your head, swallowing hard. "no. no, it’s not you, i just..." you trailed off, words dying on your tongue.

"then what is it?" hyunjin’s voice rose again, frustration bubbling to the surface. "i know you feel something for me. don’t tell me you don’t — you wouldn’t have said what you said if you didn’t."

your stomach twisted painfully. "i don’t know what you’re talking about."

"bullshit," he snapped. "we are not just friends. we are not just friends, and you fucking know it."

the words hit you like a punch to the chest. your breath faltered, and you took a shaky step back, your shoes splashing in a shallow puddle.

"i didn’t mean to—"

"yes, you did!" his voice broke this time — less sharp, more desperate. "you said you loved me. i heard you. and i know you meant it. so why are you running from me like i’m some kind of mistake?"

your throat tightened painfully. tears blurred your vision, mixing with the rain streaking down your face.

"because i’m scared!" the words burst out of you before you could stop them. your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "i’m scared of getting hurt, i’m scared of losing you — and i’m scared i’ll ruin everything because that’s what i do."

"you’re not going to lose me," he said quietly. his voice was softer now, gentler — but there was still a tremor in it. "i just... i don’t understand why you won’t let me in. why do you think you have to do this alone?"

"because i’ll hurt you!" you choked out. "i’ll mess this up, hyunjin. you deserve someone better — someone who isn’t so... so broken."

"don’t do that." his voice was firm, but not angry — raw, almost pleading. "don’t tell me what i deserve. i know what i want."

he stepped closer, his fingers brushing your wrist again, more tentative this time — like he wasn’t sure you’d let him.

"i want you."

a sob tore from your throat, and before you could stop yourself, you were stepping forward, crashing into him. your hands fisted into the soaked fabric of his jacket, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

his arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you in tight — like he’d been waiting for you to do this. you didn’t know who kissed who first — all you knew was that his lips were on yours, hard and desperate. the kiss was messy, rain-slicked and breathless, but neither of you seemed to care.

"i’m sorry," you whispered against his mouth, the words spilling out between kisses. "i’m so sorry."

"don’t be," he murmured back, his fingers curling at the nape of your neck, holding you closer. "just... please don’t push me away anymore."

for a moment, you stayed like that — tangled in each other’s arms, the rain washing over you both. whatever tension had been hanging in the air seemed to crack and fall away, replaced by something heavier yet somehow lighter at the same time. and as hyunjin pressed one more lingering kiss to your forehead, you realized something — maybe you’d been wrong. 

maybe love wasn’t about avoiding pain; maybe it was about trusting someone enough to hold your heart, even when you were scared they might break it.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @geni-627 @bbokvhs @wavetohannie

[cameronsbabydoll]

SUGAR-COATED CHAINS — CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WARNINGS — angst, reader snaps at rafe, emotional neglect, more condescending rafe

It’s been days since London, but something is wrong.

Rafe has been distant—colder, more withdrawn. He spends hours locked in his office, his voice clipped and controlled as he takes call after call, the door shut between you like a physical barrier.

At night, he slips into bed late, smelling like whiskey and expensive cologne, pressing against you without a word. His hands are familiar, his weight sinking into the mattress the same way it always does, but there’s no tenderness behind it. No whispered “goodnight, angel,” no absentminded kisses against your shoulder before sleep claims him. Just routine. Just expectation.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even seem to notice the shift.

Or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t care.

The penthouse, once a dream wrapped in silk and gold, now feels like a cage. You’ve been nowhere since you returned—no fresh air, no errands, nothing beyond these walls. You try to talk to him during the day, just something simple to bridge the widening gap, but he waves you off with the same dismissive tone.

"Not now, angel. I’m busy."

The loneliness festers.

It builds inside you like pressure behind a dam, straining under the weight of everything left unsaid.

And eventually, it cracks.

You don’t plan to argue.

You just want something—a little piece of normalcy, something beyond these walls, beyond him.

"I was thinking of going out today," you say over breakfast, keeping your voice light, careful. "Just for coffee, maybe a walk—"

Rafe barely looks up from his laptop. “Why?” His voice is flat, uninterested. “Everything you need is here.”

It’s not just the words—it’s the way he says them, like the idea of you wanting anything outside of him is absurd. Like you’re a kept thing, and he sees nothing wrong with that.

And that’s when it clicks.

He doesn’t see you as someone who needs freedom.
He sees you as his.

Normally, you’d let it go. You’d smooth things over, wait for his attention to shift back to you.

But not this time.

"You don’t even see me, Rafe," the frustration spills out before you can stop it. "I’m just—just something you keep locked away while you’re off playing businessman.”

Silence.

Then—the slow, deliberate shut of his laptop.

When he finally looks at you, his blue eyes are unreadable, but you feel the shift in the air. Something sharp, something dangerous, lurking just beneath the surface.

He doesn’t yell. He never has to.

"Careful, angel," he murmurs, voice soft, almost affectionate. But it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re upset, so I’ll let that slide. But I don’t like that tone.”

It’s a warning. A quiet promise.

Normally, this is where you’d shrink back. Lower your gaze. Let him win.

But not this time.

"That’s the problem, Rafe." You meet his stare, even though your pulse is racing. "You don’t like anything that isn’t me agreeing with you.”

Something flickers in his expression—annoyance? Amusement? You can’t tell.

"That’s not true.” His voice is measured, his fingers drumming lazily against the desk. “I like plenty of things.”

"Like what?"

Rafe leans back in his chair, watching you like he’s figuring out a puzzle. Then—he stands.

Before you can react, his fingers are gripping your chin, tilting your face up to his.

"I like it when you’re soft.” His thumb strokes your bottom lip, gaze heavy-lidded. “Obedient.”

Your breath hitches.

"And I really, really like it when you remember who you belong to."

You should pull away. You should tell him he’s proving your point.

But you don’t.

Because even now, with anger burning in your veins, you’re still his.

And he knows it.

Instead of responding, you do something you’ve never done before.

You pull away first.

His hand falls from your face, and for the first time, Rafe doesn’t chase after you immediately.

Maybe because he knows if he does, he’ll do something he regrets. Maybe because he’s realizing that for the first time, he’s losing his grip.

As you walk away—heart pounding, breath uneven—you don’t look back.

And neither does he.

But you both know this isn’t over.

The tension lingers long after you leave the room. You don’t know what reaction you expected from Rafe—anger? A fight?

But instead, when you finally gather your courage and tell him, “I’m staying at my friend’s place tonight,”—

He just smirks.

Not in the teasing way he sometimes does. No, this one is calculated, like he knows something you don’t.

"Yeah?" He leans against his desk, arms crossed, studying you. “And how’s that supposed to work, angel?”

"I’ll pack a bag and call an Uber." Your voice is shaky, but you force yourself to hold his gaze.

Rafe just exhales a quiet, almost bored laugh. "Go ahead, then.” His blue eyes glint with something dark. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

That should’ve been your warning.

But you go anyway.

—

Your friend welcomes you in without question. No prying, no judgment. Just a blanket, a warm cup of tea, the comfort of someone who sees you.

You should feel relieved.

But instead, the moment you’re away from Rafe, the moment his presence isn’t suffocating every inch of your world, it hits you.

You love him.

It’s twisted and unfair, and it makes no sense because you should be happy to have this space. But you aren’t.

Instead, you spend the night curled up, silent tears slipping down your cheeks, gripping your phone even though you know he won’t text you first.

He doesn’t have to.

Because no matter how much you try to run, you know you’ll always come back.

—

You barely sleep.

Every hour drags. Every time your phone lights up, your fingers twitch—only to see it’s not him.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most.

Not even a single attempt to chase you.

Because he doesn’t have to, does he?

He knows. He always knows.

Knows you miss him. Knows you’re curled up, aching for him, even after the fight.

And it makes you furious—but more than that, it makes you lonely.

You hold out until just after three a.m.

Then, like clockwork, your resolve cracks.

You slip on your shoes, grab your bag, and slip out the door. You don’t even text him to say you’re coming back—you just go.

You expect silence. Expect to slip into bed like this never happened.

But when you push open the door to the penthouse—

He’s awake.

Waiting.

Rafe is sitting on the couch, legs spread, one arm resting on the back of it, watching you. Like he knew exactly when you’d show up.

The air is thick as you step inside, shutting the door behind you.

And then, he smirks.

"Took you long enough, angel."

Your breath catches.

You should have known.

Rafe doesn’t chase. He waits. He always waits.

The room is dim, the city skyline bleeding in through the massive windows behind him. He’s still in the same clothes from earlier—dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, sleeves pushed up, veins flexing against his forearms. His jaw is tense, but his smirk? That’s the part that makes your stomach twist.

He’s not angry.

He’s pleased.

"What?" Your voice comes out hoarse, exhaustion thick in your throat.

"I just knew you wouldn’t last the night." He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he already solved. "Figured you’d put up a little more of a fight, though.”

You don’t respond. You can’t.

Because he’s right.

And the worst part? He knew you’d come back before you did.

"Was it worth it?" His voice is softer now, but no less dangerous. "Your little rebellion?"

Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag.

"I just needed space, Rafe."

His jaw tics.

"Space?" The word rolls off his tongue like it’s foreign. "You have everything here. Everything you could possibly need. But you still ran, didn’t you?"

He stands, slow and deliberate, every inch of him exuding control.

You should step back. You don’t.

"I didn’t run—"

"No?" He’s in front of you now, close enough that the scent of him—cologne, whiskey, something distinctly him—clouds your thoughts. His fingers reach for the strap of your bag, tugging it off your shoulder effortlessly. "Then what do you call it?"

You swallow hard.

You don’t have an answer.

And he knows it.

Rafe exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders like he’s reining something in.

"You think leaving proves something, angel?" He reaches up, his fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your chin up just enough to make you meet his eyes.

Your pulse pounds.

"You can go. Anytime you want." His thumb strokes over your bottom lip, the touch deceptively gentle. "But we both know you won’t."

It’s not a question. It’s a fact.

And fuck, he’s right.

You should still be angry. Maybe you are. But the exhaustion, the loneliness, the sheer relief of being back in his space—it’s overwhelming.

"Say it," he murmurs. "Tell me you belong to me."

Your lips part, but the words don’t come.

Because part of you wants to fight it. You should fight it.

But then his grip tightens, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Say it, angel."

And you do.

Because you always do.

"I belong to you."

His smirk returns, slow and triumphant.

"That’s my girl."

You expect him to kiss you. To drag you into bed and take what’s his, erase any thought of running.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he steps back, grabs your wrist, and pulls you toward the bedroom.

"You’re exhausted," he mutters, like he’s decided this for you. "You need sleep."

You blink up at him, thrown off by the shift. "Rafe—"

"Shh." He presses a finger against your lips. "We’ll deal with this tomorrow."

There’s something unsettling about that.

Not because he’s letting it go—but because you know he isn’t.

Not really.

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up in his bed. You’ll wear the clothes he likes. You’ll be wrapped in the safety of his world again.

And tomorrow, you’ll have to face what this means.

That you’ll always come back.

And Rafe will always be waiting.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Okay okay but like, how do you feel about Mark x William x Reader? How do you think that’d be, Gator? 👀🙏

Mark Grayson x William Clockwell x Viltrumite male reader 

Headcanons 

Reader is a fellow viltrumite, cuz I had a request asking for William x viltrumite reader but it's just... gone, I can't find it in my inbox, but I know it was there. So, enjoy. 

Make reader the son of Thragg, just for angst and power purposes. Maybe he's a bit rebellious, by viltrumite standards. But its entertaining, so Thragg lets him live and grow up. Also, cuz reader is clearly the strongest offspring he's sired. 

Reader is older than Ursaal and Onaan, but not old enough to stay getting wrinkles and all that. 

Maybe this rebellious nature makes him go to earth, because “stop trying to control my life dad” that people go through.  

Earth is supposed to have been colonized or whatever, so Thragg just lets him. Plus, readers one of the strongest viltrumites and the strong can do whatever they want, ya know? 

I feel this would take place sometime after season one, but before everything started truly going insane. Or more insane than Nolan killing the guardians and all that. 

So, William and Mark are in college together, they are roommates. Mark wouldn't be with Amber anymore, or their relationship isn't really going anywhere. And William wouldn't be with Rick. 

I like to think the reader is smart enough to hide his viltrumite affiliation when he gets to earth. Plus, he's rebellious and it's not like his dad is here, so he shaves his moustache and he steals some clothes somewhere out in the galaxy. 

How the reader gets to earth and meets them for the first time is up in the air. It could be many ways, but at this point the GDA aren't as extreme as they become later on, and Mark is still on good terms with them. 

It probably becomes a deal that Mark has to keep an eye on you, since you are some great unknown and you are clearly strong. They have no idea how strong, but you aren't breaking a sweat when you help out doing hero work. 

You may be your father's favorite child, but you also know what it's like to suffer under his fist. To mold you into the kind of warrior he wants you to be, his eyes shining with pride when you always survive and come back stronger. 

The memory makes you sick, always has. Like something inside you always knew it was wrong and disgusting, what the viltrumites were doing. But when it's all you have ever known, then you just go along with it. 

Earth is a breath of fresh air, and though Mark is very wary of you, he still introduces you to how things work around here. 

And yeah, Mark may be a half-breed, but he is still attractive, in his own weird way. Hes not strong, at least he is nothing impressive, but he never backs down. Its admirable somehow. 

He makes you feel warm inside in a way you aren't used too. You care for your younger siblings in some kind of way, like, you don't want them to die, but you also wouldn't die for them. 

What you start feeling for Mark is stranger, warmer and passionate. It makes you angry and annoyed because it feels like a weakness. 

During this time, Mark would also have broken up with Amber if they hadn't already. Insert him having a whole gay/bi awakening because holy shit... he's feeling stuff for you of all people. 

When he has a conversation with William about his panic, it also clicks that what he feels for you, Mark also feels for William. He gets really awkward for a while, and William knows him enough to know something is up. 

Honestly, I think William and Mark would get together first. Like Mark would be pacing the room, flushed in the face, rambling about you, but then end up talking about William. 

William, who I believe has always had a bit of a torch for Mark would be stunned, but also knows he needs to act now before Mark loses all confidence. So, the two kiss, and end up fumbling through confessions and feelings and all that. 

Insert them falling back on one of their beds and just making out, touching and groping. They don't go further than that, Mark isn't ready, but afterwards William would joke about needing to meet you too. 

Meeting you would be an accident, throwing all their plans into the trash. Some villain shows up, and you end up saving William's life before Mark even gets to change and arrive as invincible. 

Insert William looking reader up and down and going “I see what you mean” to Mark. 

Imagine that you can smell that William and Marks are connected so you compliment mark on his “worthy choice of a mate”. It feels like a compliment even when worded like that, so they both feel a little flushed about it. 

In some way, you end up spending a lot more time with Mark and William, even outside of costume. I don't see you applying for college or anything, since you don't have a legal identity, but you spend time with them on the regular. 

When William starts making you feel all kinds of feelings in your chest, you want to go punch something or someone again. It feels like a massive weakness and you don't like it. 

Yalls confessions for each other would start because you accuse them of doing something to you, like poisoning you.  

You are about ready to kill them for this perceived threat, but also because you don't like feeling something so new and strange, it's scary. 

Then William would try to rationalize it and have you explain what they've done, and so starts you spilling all these strange weird feelings they make you feel. How they make your heart race, your hands clammy, how you feel unsteady even why you fly. It has to be a personal attack, right? 

Even as you get more worked up about it, Mark and William just start smiling and flushing, because it's so endearing to see you pace and try to understand all this. It also means a lot that you feel the same that they do. 

Just insert Mark going “hey, dude” and stopping your angry pacing with a hand on your shoulder. When you turn to glare at Mark, William would jump up and kiss your cheek and be all like “what you're feeling isn't poison, stupid. Its feelings. You know, the ones in there?” and poke your chest. 

You end up needing them to explain this whole dating culture on earth, what you are feeling, why it's okay, and that yes, they feel the same. Then you also get the conversation about descrimination, because they both know what will happen when they are open about the relationship. 

This results in them having to stop you from flying out and threatening the entire world with destruction if they don't accept lgbt+ and other minorities. William would say something like “we appreciate it big guy, but let's not destroy the planet, okay?” and kiss the readers chin. 

A relationship with those two can be a bit wild sometimes. There might also be some insecurity in the reader of not fitting their dynamic, since they've been friends for so long. 

Your sweet boyfriends, as earth don't call it mates, are just... so soft and kind. It makes your teeth ache sometimes. 

Like when Mark arrives with flowers for both you and William, or when he somehow shapes a cloud into a heart when you guys go patrolling. 

William is so affectionate in a way you aren't used too. You were left speechless when he shoves you down on the bed and straddles you, a smirk on his face as he gets comfortable. 

All the kissing has also left you reeling. They do it all the time, they run their tongues together for fun, and not for battle. They have to teach you how to kiss, because “as much as I love being devoured, this is too much babe” 

When the time comes when your father sends Anissa, you chase her off by force. When its Conquest, you are able to keep up with him and stake claim on this planet. 

And when the time comes to battle your father, because that time will come, you are ready to die for your beloveds.  

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

apologizing with a kiss - Joel Miller

900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts

bio : This story is part of the 900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts.

person ordering: @underneath-the-sky-again

warnings : a little bit of angst, fluff, kissing, some bad words, blood

[my masterlist]

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

You kicked open the bathroom door and ran inside. Rushing to take off your jacket and shirt, you managed to throw a few other things on the ground, but you didn't have time to think about it. When you finally got out of your clothes, you glanced at your shoulder.

It didn't look good. A large shard of glass had pierced the layer of clothing and dug into your arm, leaving an ugly bleeding wound. Blood was dripping down your arm to your fingertips and dripping onto the tiles.

With your free hand, you turned on the tap and wet a cloth to wash everything. You had to quickly dress it before...

"Baby? Are you home?"

"Fuck!" you hissed to yourself. Joel was supposed to be with Tommy, but he must have changed his plans since he showed up at home at this hour. It was already dark outside, but it wasn't that late.

"Baby?" a familiar voice sounded at the door and you heard a quiet knock "Is everything okay? I thought someone was running up the stairs."

"Yeah! I'm okay." you lied, quickly glancing at the cloth that was dirty with your blood "I'll take a quick shower and I'll be right back."

"You were gone longer than you said, I was starting to worry." Joel fell silent after a moment "Is there...blood on the floor? Baby?"

"It's nothing, Joel. I just..."

The door opened before you could say anything else. Joel was looking at you, frowning. He was wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants, he must have never left the house and had just holed himself up in his workshop.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, approaching and carefully taking your arm in his hands, he looked closely at the wound "You couldn't have done that on patrol, right? Where were you?"

You couldn't lie, not to Joel. Even though you had already lied to him, saying that you were going on a regular patrol instead of a friend. You took a deep breath.

"I was at that old shopping mall. I had to do something..."

"Have you lost your mind?" Joel hissed angrily "I told you not to go there alone."

"Peter was with me. Nothing happened to us! It is just a scratch." You replied quickly "I bumped into a glass case and..."

"Come with me."

Without a word, you and Joel went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed. After a few moments, he appeared with a first aid kit and started professionally dressing your wound. Still silent, still angry. You felt the emotions radiating from him, but you hadn't done anything wrong. You wanted to help and...

"Ouch!" you hissed when he put an alcohol swab on your wound "That hurts."

Still silence. You gritted your teeth and decided not to show that you were in pain. It wasn't until Joel tied the bandage and the dressing was ready that you dared to speak.

"I had to go there. I know I hid it from you and I'm sure it seems stupid..."

He put the first aid kit down and looked at you. “Why did you lie to me?” he asked. Damn, you would rather have him yell at you than look at you with such disappointment.

But you knew what you did was right and if it weren't for the accident, Joel would never have found out and you could have done something for him. The little lie was necessary.

"Because you would never have let me go there alone." you finally blurted out "And I wanted to do something for you!"

"Oh!" Joel raised his eyebrows ironically "Did you want to get yourself killed or something? Especially for me?"

"No!" you snorted "I wanted to find this for you."

You pulled a small package out of your back pocket and tossed it onto his lap. He looked at it in shock. Dark eyes widened in surprise.

"You said you needed new guitar strings. And I saw this music store in the mall and thought... I wanted to do something for you, Joel! If it weren't for that stupid display case..."

Your words seemed to finally reach him, because he turned the package over in his large hands, and then looked back at you.

"I'm sorry, I was..." Joel began, not even knowing what words should leave his mouth, he was too surprised.

"I wanted to do something for you, because you're always thinking about me and Ellie. I really didn't want to lie. I just didn't tell you exactly where I was going... You'd say it wasn't necessary, that you didn't need those strings, but in reality you'd give a lot to have them. So I went there and..."

A warm hand closed over yours and squeezed it gently. You lifted your head, looking at Joel in surprise. He was smiling at you, there was no trace of his earlier anger.

“You’re going to have a heart attack one day, but… I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” he said, clearly moved. “I still think it was crazy and that you hurt yourself, but… Thank you.”

You smiled, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't mean to lie to you, Joel. It wasn't even a lie."

"It was, but... It doesn't matter." he stroked your cheek, looking at you fondly. "I'm sorry, babe."

"I'm sorry too." you replied quietly.

He leaned down and his soft lips brushed yours, once, twice, three times...

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." you repeated quietly with each kiss.

"You're crazy, you know that?" he asked. You nodded without even opening your eyes.

"But will you kiss me again? I'd like to apologize to you some more."

“God, you’re lucky I love you,” Joel chuckled.

However, he granted your request. And even though you had a fresh bandage on your arm, you had completely forgotten about the pain.

[eunoiaflow3r]

jealousy, jealousy - harry potter x reader

requests open!!

• warning(s): fluff mostly lol, harry pov, not proofread fr

• word count: 1.2k

• request(ed): “can you please write a jealous harry potter when his girlfriend starts hanging out with cedric?”

• summary: the request lol

————————————————————————

Every Friday after classes, Harry, you, Ron, and Hermione would find a quiet place to watch a movie on the projector Ron had snuck in. It was a tradition the four of you had come up with after finally each falling into your respective couples. You and Harry were first - you both knew you liked each other but never said anything. After a heated argument one day in the library (mostly you were frustrated he wasn’t being safe and smart with his life after an encounter with you-know-who) and he kissed you right in the middle of your rant. You two had been together ever since. Ron and Hermione finally admitted their feelings shortly after.

Tonight, you were late. Only by a few minutes, but enough to have Harry wondering where you were and how you were doing. What he didn’t expect to see or hear was your giggling followed by a deep voice coming his way. His head turned quickly to find you walking towards the group with Cedric Diggory at your side. Harry furrowed his brows and looked to Hermione and Ron in confusion. They didn’t look as worried as he was, but still offered no kind of relieving explanation. Once you reached them, he watched as you said goodbye and walked over to lean down and kiss Harry on the cheek. Cedric waved to the group before heading forward someplace else.

Harry cleared his throat. “Erm was that Diggory over there?”

“Yeah, it was,” you start, “I ran into him and we were talking about the Transfiguration assignment before we realized we were heading the exact same way.”

“Oh, hm, alright.”

And that was the end of that. Harry didn’t press any further. He didn’t see the need and he wasn’t the type. He was just glad you were at his side now and he could enjoy the movie with you.

The next day at breakfast, Harry listened to how worried you were about passing two of your classes. He tried to tell you everything would be alright but he could hardly get a word in. He didn’t mind though. He liked listening to you even if half of it wasn’t really making any sense.

“Y/N!”

Both Harry and your head turn to the noise. It was Cedric Diggory heading your way, papers in hand.

“Hello Potter.” Cedric says smiling.

“Diggory.” He nods politely.

“Y/N, here are those notes that I promised you. I was able to find them in my things from last yea I had buried.”

“Oh my God thank you!” Harry watches you exclaim. “You’re a life saver!”

Harry rolls his eyes as Cedric walks away. He’s even more surprised when you jump out of your seat.

“I have to go study these Harry, I’ll see you later.”

Unfortunately for him, later wasn’t until the night where he was finally able to see you holed up in your room, Diggory’s notes in hand. Like the good boyfriend he is, Harry brought your favorite snacks because he knew you’d want them and wasn’t sure if you had eaten or not. You told him all about what you had learned and understood now that you had the notes, and he stroked your hair and listened until you fell asleep on his chest. For some reason, even though nothing was wrong, every time you mentioned Cedric and his oh so helpful notes there was a little ball of fire simmering in Harry’s chest. Tonight he would ignore it, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer he would be able to do that.

“Do you think this Diggory thing is weird?” Harry asks Ron during a Wizard’s Chess game the next day. You and Hermione were off in the library looking for a next good read. Harry and Ron weren’t as interested in doing that.

“What Cedric? What thing?”

“Well, I don’t know. First he walks her to us on Friday and now he’s giving her notes?”

Ron stuffs his face with toast before answering, mouth full. “Well, I don’t know, sounds innocent enough to me, she’s been really stressing about that class.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

After the match, Harry and Ron make their way to the library and see you and Hermione side by side by side looking looking at a book that was thick enough that your foot could probably break if it was accidentally dropped. Unfortunately, Cedric was right in between the two of you.

“This is amazing.” You gleam. Harry watched as you smiled ear to ear looking at the pages in front of you. It didn’t help the ball of fire that Cedric was smiling too.

“Hey guys.” Hermion says. You look up and when you spot Harry you make your way over to him.

“How was chess?” you ask as you kiss him gently on the lips.

Harry kisses you back while still keeping his eye on Cedric. He notices that Cedric’s eyes haven’t left you. “Ron won. What’s going on here?”

“Y/N and I were looking for a really good fantasy book about this Herbologist and Cedric helped us find something even better since we couldn’t find the copy we were looking for. Guess it was already checked out.”

“Hmm.” Harry says.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

Harry shakes his head as if to say nothing.

Cedric greets the boys and then bids you all goodbye. Harry thought that still his eyes lingered on you for a little too long, but nothing in your response to him gave Harry any pause. You weren’t giving Diggory any extra attention that gave any problem but still he couldn’t quite get the flames to calm down.

Harry held your hand as he walked you to your dorm. He was quiet almost the whole time and let you talk about the book Cedric had introduced you to. To be honest, and he hated, it sounded like a really good book. And Harry hated that. He knows it’s innocent and nothing is technically wrong, but still he was upset because Cedric lately has seemed to be able to help you with so many things.

“Harry?” You ask.

“Hm?” Before he knew it you had already reached your dorm, but he was lost in thought.

“What’s wrong? Honestly this time..” You ask.

“Nothing.” He says. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Harry, you’re lying.”

Harry wanted to deny and argue, but he knew that you knew him better than that and would beat the answer out of him sooner or later.

“I just, you know, Diggory has been doing a lot for you lately and the way he was looking at you today was just..ya’know I -”

“Harry, are you jealous?”

Harry’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that made you smile.

Harry leaned into you as you cupped on of your hands onto the side of his face and the other ran through his hair.

“Harry, I only have eyes for you. You don’t ever need to worry.”

You press your lips against his and he kisses back with fervor. He liked that your lips tasted like cherries for some reason and he savored it while his hands wrapped around your waist. He got butterflies when you moaned as he gently bit your lip. He loves the feeling of you against him and he just wanted to get closer and be able to be in this moment with you forever.

“That’s good to hear.” He says when you finally break away. He could feel heat in his cheeks almost hotter than the moment the two of you just shared.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you Potter. I prefer flushed instead.”

[luna-azzurra]

Archetypes Explained - The Villain

The Villain, is the one character who makes the hero’s life a living hell just because they can. Maybe they want power, maybe they want revenge, maybe they just enjoy a little (or a lot of) destruction. Either way, they’re the reason we have a story.

And yet, so many villains are the worst. And not in a good way. They’re predictable. One-dimensional mustache-twirling maniacs whose entire personality is "I am evil because I am evil".

Villains don’t think they’re villains. This is the golden rule. No villain wakes up in the morning, stretches, and says, "Ah yes, another day of being irredeemably evil. Can’t wait to destroy some innocent lives over breakfast." No. The best villains believe they are right. They justify their actions. They have reasons. Even if they’re twisted, even if they’re completely wrong, they believe in what they’re doing.

Maybe they were wronged. Maybe they think the world is broken and they’re just fixing it. Maybe they’re a former hero who saw too much, lost too much, and snapped. Whatever it is, make sure their actions make sense.

In Fact, the most compelling villains aren’t just generic "bad guys." They’re the ones who get under the hero’s skin. Maybe they used to be best friends. Maybe they know the hero’s deepest fear. Maybe they represent everything the hero is afraid of becoming. Give them a connection. Give them history. Because nothing stings like betrayal.

And for the love of plot twists, make them capable. A villain who loses every time is not a villain, they’re an annoyance. The best villains are smart. They’re strong. They win sometimes. They put the hero through absolute hell. Because the harder the hero has to fight, the more satisfying it is when they finally succeed.

Also: Let them have fun. Seriously. Nothing is worse than a villain who’s boring. Give them a sense of humor, some charisma, a little flair. Let them enjoy being the worst person in the room And finally Give them a moment where we almost agree with them. You don’t have to make them redeemable. You don’t have to make them tragic. But if there’s one moment, just one, where the reader pauses and thinks, "Wait… do they have a point?" That’s the villain that sticks with us.

Because the best villains aren’t the ones we hate. They’re the ones we can’t stop thinking about.

[shanklin]

Stan and Ford never actually lose contact after the summer. Sure they don’t talk as much as they used to and it’s a bit lonely but some time apart did them good!

Ford tries not to be hurt by the fact that Stan was doing so well without him and found friends of his own the moment Ford’s presence stopped holding him back.

Ford also tried not to be hurt by the fact that Stanley refuses to come visit them. Even when their father called and ordered them to take Stan off his back for a summer, Stan wouldn’t budge. He made other plans with his new friends, who were normal and fun and nothing like Stanford.

Ford still only had one single friend to call his own. Don’t get him wrong, Ford loves Fiddleford but he made one big miscalculation when he told Stan to go back to New Jersey alone. Fiddleford wasn’t Stanley. There is no possible way for him to fill the void that Stan left behind.

Ford ignores Stan’s calls for three weeks straight after Stan refuses their father’s order to visit them the first time. 

Three weeks and one day later he picks up the phone and lets Stan apologize and make up excuses. He’s too tired of missing Stan to argue. If their calls are all Stan could spare for him, Ford will take them, those little scabs that, just for a couple of minutes, make him feel whole again.

Just like always they end their calls by slapping their palms against the phone in a makeshift high six and hang up. 

Stanford cries for a long time after.

Another year passes and Ford is pissed. Fine. If Stan won’t visit him, he’ll go to New Jersey himself and knock some sense into the knucklehead.

Grunkle Dipper and Grauntie Mabel ask him if he’s sure. They know how hard it was for Ford in New Jersey with all the bullies but Ford waves them off. He’s 14 now, almost 15, not a little kid and he managed just fine living in Jersey for the first 11 years of his life.

He doesn’t tell them that the only reason he survived those years was because of Stanley’s fierce protection.

Ford is pissed at Stan but he’s also excited to finally see his brother again. He’s gonna surprise him and then yell at him and then hug and go to the beach and see how the Stan o’ War is doing. Stan told him he made some improvements and he is excited about what ridiculous upgrade Stan came up with.

When they finally arrive at the pawnshop they’re met with police cars and an ambulance. The paramedics carry out a body bag and Stan is let out by the police in handcuffs. 

Stan's eyes widen in surprise but his expression closes off not a moment later. 

Everything happens in a blurr. 

His father is dead. His brother in custody and they’re being questioned by the police. 

Grunkle Dipper and Grauntie Mabel do most of the talking while Ford is not listening, hiding his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground.

“I want to see my brother.” is the only thing he manages to say. He ignores the concerned looks the adults give each other. He’s here to see Stanley and nothing else.

***

Then, finally, he gets his wish after days of waiting.

The social worker leads him to Stanley and tells him that she managed to get them some time to talk in private. 

It’s the first time in three years that Ford gets a good look at his twin. He’s not sure he likes what he sees. 

Stan is bigger than him, has more muscles. But not the kind you get from boxing. The kind you get from doing hard labor for a long period of time. Stan mentioned a part time job at the docks but now Ford fears there was more to this than Stan let on. Much much more, looking at the new scars Stan never mentioned. There was one on his forehead. One on his arms, a hidden one on his shoulder. Ford dreads to know what else Stan is hiding.

The worst part, however, is how despite all the muscles and scars Stan looks small. Pitiful even. It’s unsettling the way he won’t meet the social worker's eyes, the way he shies away from her kind touch. It’s nothing like the Stan he remembers. Nothing like the Stan he's been talking to for at least once a week for the past three years.

The social worker leaves them alone with a reassuring smile and Ford tries to find the right words. He thought this would be easy. That they would be able to talk with each other just like they always did.

“Stan-” Ford starts unsure of how to continue. Luckily Stan is two steps ahead and moves in for a hug. Okay that's good. Ford can do a hug. Ford opens his arms to let his brother in, only for Stan to open Ford's jacket and inspect the inside.

Ford blinks, arms still open.

“What are you doing, Stanley?” Ford asks, bewildered.

“Checking for bugs, genius.” 

Stan's voice had lost the quiver that had made him so pitiful just a moment earlier and took on an irritated and condescending tone instead.

He lets go of Ford's jacket as if he touched something especially nasty and throws himself into one of the many chairs in the meeting room and leans back. 

“Guess the bitch really did tell the truth, huh?”

Stan stares out of the window and frowns. 

“So what the fuck are you doing here? Pretty sure I told you I was busy again this summer.”

“Stanley..what happened to you? What did you do?”

Stan leans forward, looks deep into Ford's eyes and grins.

“Nothing they can prove.”

Stan laughs and keeps on laughing as Ford tries to make sense of it all.

Stan is mocking him. Just like their former classmates, just like the bullies.

Ford storms out and refuses to talk about the meeting.

Grauntie Mabel and Grunkle Dipper keep throwing each other concerned looks and Ford knows they're not only for him, but also for Stanley.

His brother has everyone fooled. He pretends to be a victim, hurt and afraid, telling lies about their father abusing him. He makes a show of it during the hearings and has the adults wrapped around his little finger. Some, Grauntie Mabel and Grunkle Dipper included, shed tears for him.

Stanford just watches and seethes. What game is Stan playing here? Why is he doing this?

In the end they let Stan go, judging their fathers death as an accident. 

Before they leave for Oregon Mabel sends them both on an errant run, which Ford knows is just supposed to function as some more bonding time between him and his brother.

The moment Stan leaves the adult's sight he drops his charade and stops looking like a kicked puppy.

“You never answered my question. What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

“We came to visit you, but clearly we shouldn’t have bothered. You were doing all so great by yourself it seems.”

“You only got that now? After I spent the last three years coming up with weak excuses not to see you?” Stan laughs. “And they call me the dumb one.”

Ford flushes in anger but holds it in. It makes no sense. If Stan really didn’t want anything to do with him, why the frequent calls? Why bother pretending missing Ford and all the apologies for not visiting. If Stan really didn’t care he would’ve just ignored him completely. It would’ve been easy.

Stan moves to leave but Ford grabs his arm and holds him back.

“Stan, enough with the lies. Tell me what’s really going on. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together. As a team.”

Stan twirls around and pushes Ford hard against a wall. For a moment he looks around at the empty street before gritting his teeth and almost growling.

“Don’t touch me, you freak!”

Ford barely registers the words as he kneels over from a punch to the gut.

Stan walks away and this time Ford lets him.

It’s the last time Ford sees his twin for a very very long time.

If only Ford had followed Stan that day, secretly stalked him through the hidden alleyways and closed off passageways. 

He would’ve seen Stan enter an abandoned building guarded by armed men on each side. 

And if he listened closely he would’ve heard Stan shouting for a man named Rico to show himself and demand to see the kids.

But Ford doesn’t follow Stan and so he will never find out what that was all about. 😌

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

“Where are the kids Rico?! If you did anything to them I swear-”

Rico throws up his hands, feigning innocence.

“Relax, Stanley, relax. I’m a man of my word. I don’t hurt kids.” Rico puts an arm around Stan's shoulder. Stan tries to wiggle out but Rico holds firmly in place. “I’m not like your dear old Pa, after all”

Rico slaps Stan on the back and ruffles his hair. 

“You’re welcome by the way.”

Stan uses the moment to put some distance between them and glares at the stronger man. 

“You nearly got me put in jail for murder!”

Rico grins and spreads his arms.

“I had full faith in you getting yourself out of it, my boy. And the show you put on? Simply wonderful. I almost shed a tear myself at your performance!”

“Where. Are. The. Kids. Rico?!”

Rico sighs and waves his hand. Some of his henchmen lead two kids, a couple years younger than Stan himself, into the room. The moment they see Stan they shout his name and run up to hug him. Stan holds both of them tightly in his arms.

“I missed you, dude!” The boy cries and hides his head inside Stan's shirt while the red headed girl glares at Rico standing behind Stan.

Stan looks them over and smiles.

“Soos, did you take good care of your sister?” Soos rubs his eyes and nods. Stan looks at Wendy, who gives him a thumbs up.

“Yes, very touching. Now let’s discuss business. I need all three of you on a plane to New Mexico in about 2 hours.”

All three of them? 

“What's the catch?”

There is no way Rico would let them go just like that. He must know they’ll run away the moment he lets them leave.

“There’s no catch. Do your job and no one gets hurt. If you choose to betray me though and run away.” Rico pulls out a knife and tips it underneath Stan's chin. Stan pulls Soos and Wendy behind his back. “Well I might just have to let my frustrations out on your dear twin. You two look so much alike, he’ll do nicely as a replacement.”

Stan snorts but schools his features and takes on a worried look.

“Eh, boss.” One of the henchmen butts in.

“Pines just beat up his brother before coming here. I don’t think that threat is gonna work”

Rico rolls his eyes and throws up his hands. 

“See what morons I have to deal with on a daily basis?” He tells Stan and then turns around to the henchman.

“He was obviously acting, you idiot.”

“Oh believe me. That wasn’t an act. You did your research. My family abandoned me. Hurt me. Why the fuck should I care about what happens to them?”

Stan takes both Soos and Wendy by the hand and drags them towards the entrance.

“But who am I to tell you how to do your business? So we’ll be off catching that plane and all that.”

Rico snorts.

“Oh Stanley, you’re a gambling man just like myself. That’s why I like you, but you’re a bit too young to fool me just yet. You will do just as instructed or it’ll be your brother who suffers. Maybe we’ll cut off his hands and sell them to one of those tourist trap freak shows. That way you can visit him while I’m hunting you down for betraying me.

Stan stops walking and deflates.

“Good boy.”

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

[itsrensfairygardenn]

guys.. shower sex w art 🤤 and hes like STUPID because he coesnt understand that water makes it dry so he has to go down on u b4 😒 dumb fuck

mdni 18+

i mean… yeah! i see the vision of him being very inexperienced and a bit silly :( you’ve taken his virginity not so long ago, so he is still buzzing with excitement and a good amount of nerves every time you suggest something new. of course, he never ever minds doing whatever you want, even if he has absolutely no idea how to do it right, because god, his brain just turns off every time you touch him… so he just nods without even thinking. nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

but well, he’s a nervous wreck… art has already embarrassed himself too many times. he likes you so much, that even a mere sight of your body makes his ears and pale neck go pink. he’s excited. maybe too excited to make his brain work properly. and you’re loving, so patient with him, letting him do whatever he feels right :( even though he barely even knows how to make you cum :( and can’t last long when you two are getting intimate :( last week he came in his pajama pants when he was sucking your tits for the first time. he was so frustrated and embarrassed, that you spent the entire evening running your fingers through his curls and kissing his flushed cheeks to soothe him. “of course i’m not mad at you, baby” and “let’s try again, okay?” always worked perfectly, because he loves you so very much, and he always trusts you with everything. how can you be mad at him being your silly boyfriend that can’t last too long, because you’re just too damn hot?

so when you made it to the shower without him getting rock hard as soon as you took your shirt off, it was a very good beginning — now you have something to work with! warm splashes of water tickle your skin, and you can see him shiver with this boyish little smile on his lips, when he eyeing your naked form in a soft hue of the warm bathroom light. “you’re so pretty,” he murmurs in your hair, running his fingers over your bare shoulders, the swell of your breasts… oh, of course they make him losing his mind again, you can bet his mouth is already watering from the memory of your hardened nipples on his tongue.

it was only a matter of time until his mouth is all over your neck, kissing your skin so feverishly, as if he was tasting something heavenly, even though he was just licking drops of water off the delicate curve of your neck. you’re facing the misted shower wall, offering art an inviting and incredibly tantalizing view of your ass, so ready for him to take…

and in all honesty, it doesn’t surprise you that art struggles again… his hands are trembling, when he’s trying to steady himself and figure out why he can’t put it in the way he did before :( he immediately blamed himself for it, of course. what, he can’t make you wet anymore? you probably don’t want him now, after this pathetic excuse of sex he’s given you a week ago… no, no, it’s so embarrassing :( at least he’s lucky enough that you can’t see this desperate pout on his face, but you can probably hear his trembling breath even through the soft sound of water hitting the floor.

“fuck, i’m so sorry,” at this point art’s voice is almost shaking. oh god, your poor little baby. you’re turning around to face him again, and your mouth is already opening to tell him that there’s nothing wrong, that it’s normal. but art’s not going to leave you hanging again; looking down, you can see him kneeling on the hard shower floor — oh? is he going to…

your shoulder blades are pressed against the wall, and your head is tipping backwards at the feeling of his tongue on you, gingerly running it down your slit to have a taste, like a first bite of some exotic fruit. his blue eyes dart up, like precious stones framed with his wet eyelashes, and now it’s your turn to shudder, because fuck, he’s born to look at your like that, while his tongue is spreading your sensitive folds; he looks away from you only to glance at the water that rolls down your pubic — he catches these sparkly drops with his tongue, while his fingers carefully spread your lips. he looks like he’s just seen the eighth wonder of the world.

and when his eager tongue finds your clit? you’re practically whimper — which makes art whimper too, because usually he’s the one who turns into a whiny mess from a single touch… oh, maybe he understands what that means. has he found the way to make you cum?

trust me, art doesn’t need to be asked twice — now, when he knows how to make you feel good, he isn’t going to let that moment slip away. now your adorable little blondie is sucking your clit, as if it’s the last time he ever got a chance to get a taste of it. you’re so wet under his tongue, so sweet and beautiful, looking down at him like that. “so good, artie” “just like that… use your fingers too, baby” “yeah, you can make me cum, of course you can…”

and when you cum, really cum on his tongue, on his fingers that were teasing your entrance… art sees the divinity with his own eyes. slurred ‘i love you, i love you, i love you’ vibrate right against your pulsing, sensitive pussy, and his voice is so thin and shaky, as if he might start crying.

you rub his scalp with your manicured fingers, because he’s doing so well; of course you love him too, of course he can do it again later. so what if he came untouched again? “that’s okay, baby, i don’t mind. want to cum again?”

yes. yes. yes — the only right answer

[spidybaby]

The Lucky One

Summary: Fer tries to play Cupid with you, and it ends up not being what he expected.

Warnings: name calling, cursing, secret relationship.

A/N: Hello my shaylas, how are you??? I'm finally back. After trying for days to post, tumblr allowed me to do it! Love you all. I hope you are having an amazing day ❤️

"When are you going to let me set you up in a blind date?" Fer asks.

You roll your eyes. "Why can't I just stay single?" You ask.

Fernando hugs you by the shoulders, he laughs at how you are frowning your eyebrows.

"Vamos, there's nothing wrong with being single." He says. "I'm just worried about you."

You frown even harder. Looking at him with a confused look on your face. "Why?"

"Joder! I met you a little over a year ago, and you never introduced me or any of the guys here to a boy or talked about a love interest."

You take his arm away from you. "I'm sorry I've been busy with life." You say, walking to the fridge.

You met Fernando in a culinary course. He was the second chef in charge. You bonded with him when you asked him to help you with some recipes.

He stayed some extra time with you in the kitchen where the class was taking place. He made sure you understood everything.

You two created a nice friendship. You even invited him to your birthday. It was something genuine and very respectful.

You two were in your house, you were practicing the last dish of the course. You needed to make it perfectly to be able to pass the course.

"You are mixing the wrong way." He says, smiling at you.

He takes the bowl to his side, grabbing the spoon and showing you how to do it.

You sigh. Rolling your eyes and grabbing back the bowl.

"Who do you even want to introduce me to?"

Fernando smirks, taking his phone out of his pocket. "He's a friend of mine, I promise you are going to love him."

You shake your head no at his exciment.

"One thing, I don't do clubs." You point out. "I don't feel like meeting someone on a very crowded place."

Fer nods, texting quickly.

"What about my house?" He suggests. "My parents are not going to be there, and my brother is busy during the evening."

You nod, agreeing to his crazy proposal.

"Okay, my house, this weekend." He smiles. "Lunch will be."

"Okay, I'll do my best to not have a bitch face the whole evening."

"Great!" He says. "Now, you are mixing it wrong again."

☁️☁️☁️

"You are here!" Fer says, opening the door to his house. "My friend is almost here." He explains.

He grabs your wrist, pulling you inside of the house. You two walk into the house and in the kitchen.

"Ve!" He says, hurrying you to go into the backyard.

You open the door, already feeling uncomfortable. You find two boys and one girl. You say a shy greeting to them.

"Chicos, she's Y/n." Fer introduces you to them. "This is Pam." He says, pointing to a girl. "This is Adrian, he and Pam are a couple."

"Hola!" They both say.

"This other one is Mike." He points to the last one. "He's a friend from Tenerife."

"Nice to meet you." You smile.

You start a small talk with Pam. She was nice and tried to make you talk and get to know the others.

"And I study to be a teacher." She says.

You smile at her. You tell her about yourself. She was very interested and asked you some questions.

"So you think Fer is a food chef?" Adrian asks, a mischievous tone behind the question.

"I do, he's very helpful."

"He once burned the chicken." Mike says, both Adrian and him were looking at Fer in a funny way.

"One time!" He laughs. "Y/n, can you help me with something?" He asks.

You nod, excusing yourself and walking inside the house.

Fer asked you to help him with some snacks. He trusted you more than what he trusted his cousin with flavor.

You joke with him about that burned chicken. He was trying to act as if that didn't really happened and it was because his little brother distracted him.

You take the snacks out and walk back to see if Fer needed any more help. You find him texting with one hand, and the other is mixing something that is on the stove.

"Don't burn that." You say.

"One time!" He repeats. "And it was my brother's fault."

"Was he cooking?"

He was about to answer, but the doorbell interrupted him. You have a feeling on who it is. Mostly because Fernando has this smirk again.

"I'm getting it." He says, turning the stove off and rushing to the door.

You like to say that you don't care about this "blind encounter" or whatever this is supposed to be.

Yet you can't help but check your hair and check if you look presentable. As much as you hate the idea of being in this situation, you at least want to look good.

You take a deep breath, only a few hours, and then you can ghost this guy. Nice and smooth. Or maybe you are actually going to like this guy, and maybe it's going to be a nice evening.

"Ya volvimos!" Fer says, walking to the kitchen with this tall, blonde guy. You tried your best to hide your emotions.

You can't help but feel a little comical. Fer really never asked you what your type was. You definitely were not into blonde guys.

Strike one.

"This is Daniel." Fer introduces the guy.

"Hola," you smile at him. "I'm Y/n."

"Fer told me a lot about you." Daniel smiles.

"I'm checking on the others. You guys can talk here." Fer says, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen.

You two stood there in an awkward silence. You try to think of something to say that makes a nice conversation.

"Fer told me you are a chef." He says, getting a little closer.

"Not quite a chef." You chuckle. "I'm just learning to cook some fancy dishes." You explain. "Want to go out with everyone?"

"Mmm, let's sit on the couch." He smiles.

You nod, walking with him to the couch. You act quickly and sit on the single one. Letting him sit on the large one that was next to the one you are in.

"What do you do?" You ask, trying to keep the flow.

"Not much." He says, shrugging.

"Are you in college?" You try to ask something again.

"Yeah, I do." He smiles.

You smile back, very awkward at how bad this was going. You two just seat there, the horrible silence that was created by the lack of conversation was killing you.

"I heard that you like to play basketball." You say, remembering a little of what Fernando described him to be.

"Oh, I do." He says, very monotone tone. "I think people are more focused on football these days, but I've been training since I was a kid and-"

You zone out after a few seconds. Couldn't he just say < yes, I do > and move out with the topic?

"And I really think that the Lakers are better than the Warriors."

"Yeah, I like tennis." You say, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, I like tennis too." He says in a happy tone. "Who's your favorite player?"

"Serena Williams."

He chuckles. "I mean, yes, she's a tennis player, in theory." He starts.

Don't say it, you think.

Don't.

"But who's your favorite real tennis player?"

You hang your head low. "Nadal." You sigh.

Second strike.

"Let's go with the others." You say, getting up and walking straight to the garden.

The way Pam smiled at you and patted the chair next to her was so cute to you.

"Was it bad?" She asks, whispering so no one else hears.

"I mean, he still has one strike." You chuckle.

You two talk about different topics. You really got to know her and like her. Maybe that can be a consolation for the blind date thing.

You won't walk out of there with a "boyfriend" like Fernando wanted you to, but you definitely will walk out with a new friend.

"Hey, Y/n." Daniel calls you.

You turn to him, humming so he can say what he needs to say. You were eating the food that Fernando prepared.

"You asked me about basketball, maybe you can drop off at tomorrows practice."

Was that his idea of a date?

Was that even an invitation for a date?

"I'll think about it." You say, smiling lightly.

"Yeah, maybe we can go out and see that femenine tennis game at the bar that's close to where I train."

"Oh, you like tennis?" Mike asks, smiling.

"I do, I trained and played a good number of games when I was a kid-"

"She likes Serena Williams." Daniel says. "Like I asked her for a tennis player, not a lady with a racket."

Everybody fell quiet. He definitely thought that I was going to be a funny joke and that everyone was going to burst out laughing.

"I like Serena Williams too." Pam says. "I think she's the best and some of the younger girls on tennis really look up to her."

"Do you guys want more salad?" You ask, trying to change the topic. "It's amazing."

"Yeah, Fer." Adrian says. "Thank you, hermano. This is amazing, thank you for not burning it."

"One fucking time!" Fernando laughs.

You all laughed at him, and he started to say how much his reputation mattered to him, that the burned food was ruining it.

"Do you need help with the dessert?" You ask him, seeing that he got up to go back inside.

"The last you can do after ruining my reputation." He jokes.

You walk inside with him. Helping him with serving some ice cream into cups. You help him with taking them outside.

"I'll be right back." You say to Pam, who wanted to tell you something.

You notice Fer washings his hands on the sink. You had caramel on your hands also, so you needed to wash them too.

"Fer, where is your bathroom?" You ask, sticking your hands together to play with the caramel on them.

"It's the door in front of the stairs, almost at the front." He points.

You nod, walking to the entrance. You find the bathroom, but the problem now was that your hands were sticky with caramel.

You tried with your elbow, but it was no use. Try with your arm, but it was too heavy for it to open up.

"Quieres ayuda?" You hear someone say behind you. (Do you need help?)

You turn, finding a boy. He definitely was Fernando's brother because they do look alike.

"Si, please." You smile at him. "I have caramel all over my hands, and I can't open it."

He chuckles. "We all been there." He says, trying to make you less worried.

"Gracias, mmm?" You humm, trying to get him to tell you his name.

"Pedri." He says with a smile.

"Gracias, Pedri." You repeat, but this time you say his name.

He does this winking with both eyes. You can't help but find that attractive in some way. He was like a remastered version of Fernando.

A better one, you may say.

"If you need help with something else, I'll be in the kitchen." He smiles.

You nod, smiling at him. "Gracias." You repeat, walking inside the bathroom.

You wash your hands quickly, a part of you want to rush to be able to meet Fer's brother in the kitchen.

The other knows that if Fernando finds out you are trying to make a move on his brother, he will be mad.

Maybe that was the reason why he had never talked about him before. Maybe he was just nice to strangers, and was that annoying boy Fer always yap about.

You walk back to the living room. Thankfully, the kitchen was right next to it, so it was easy for Fer and Pedri to see you walking back.

"The caramel is gone." You say to fer, showing him your hands.

He chuckles, "Hey, this is Pedri." He says, turning to where pedri is, giving him a small hit on the head. "My little brother."

You nod, smiling at him. "Nice to know the one you blame for the burned food." You mess with Fer.

"Jo'er!" Pedri laughs. You can't help but find his laugh so cute. "Don't believe him, I wasn't in the house that day."

You giggle, looking at him.

He was also looking at you.

"Y/n is the one who made the lemon cake from the other day." Fer explains to Pedri. "He loved it, ate almost every slice of it."

You smile while bitting your lip. "Glad to know someone liked it." You say to Pedri.

"Buaf, liked it is not enough." He chuckles. "I broke my diet, so worth it."

"I can bake some for you."

Pedri nods, smiling like a little kid.

Fer calls your name from the backyard. You smile at pedri and walk outside.

"Your ice cream." Pam says.

You sit down, grabbing the spoon and mixing the very melted ice cream you had in front of you. You listen to the conversation, not wanting to involve yourself on it.

From your place you can see Pedri inside of the house, he was playing with the family dog. You knew the dog from Fernando's insta stories.

You can't help but smile at how delicate he is being with the dog.

"Oye," Daniel says to you. "I can give you a ride home. Fer mentioned that you didn't bring your car."

You scrunch your nose. "It's okay, I can order an Uber." You smile.

"Nonsense, I'll take you." He smiles, passing his arm around your shoulders.

You cringe at the action. Quickly grabbing the plates that are in front of you and him.

"Fer!" You say, getting up and making his arm leave your body. "Let me help you with the dishes."

"Oh si, we will help you." Pam says, grabbing some of the plates.

Daniel passed you Mike's plate while Pam had hers, Adriand and Fernandos plate. You walk with her to the kitchen.

"You really don't like him." She whispers.

"Qué?" You ask, trying to act as if you don't understand. "Wha- What are you talking about?"

"Dani, he's been all over you, and you've been so evasive with him."

You stayed quiet, making a face that makes her laugh.

"Let's just say that he's not my cup of tea." You say quietly. "He's just everything that I don't like combined in one dumb dude."

"He really doesn't know when to shut up." She sighs.

You just nodded, not really wanting to talk about it. Daniel was a little bit over himself and was the typical macho guy who thought that he's all that.

You stayed in the kitchen while the boys were outside. They were standing up, so maybe it meant that I was time for the gathering to end.

"Hey, give me your number." Pam says, taking her phone out of her pocket. "That way we can hang out."

You nod, happy and excited that you made a friend. You two share numbers and Instas.

"Party's over." Fer says, entering with the boys to the house.

You say goodbye to Adrian and Mike, giving a small hug to Pam and wave at Fer that was busy loading the dishwasher.

You notice that Daniel was in the backyard talking on the phone. You walk your way to the door to be able to get out before he gets off the phone.

You close the house front door and take your phone to order an Uber. Sadly for you, you were facing the consequences of your own actions.

You were too lazy to change your phone before getting ready, telling yourself that the charge that was left was enough for the day.

Well, it wasn't.

"Shit." You curse, trying not to be loud.

"Tas' bien?"

You lift your head and turn back to the house, finding Pedri looking at you.

"Si, I just got no battery left, and I can't order my Uber." You say, smiling to hide your embarrassment.

"I can take you home." He smiles. "I'm going out, and I don't mind dropping you off."

"I don't want to be a bother." You say, feeling a little shy. "I'll just find a cab."

"Qué va! I'll take you." He says, walking close to you. "Vamos, I left the car outside."

He places his hand on your back, pushing you very lightly for you to walk. You feel this small goosebump.

He not only opens the door of his house to you but also the door of his car. You know that's not something that needs to wow you, but it does.

"Where to, señorita?" He asks happily.

You giggle at his enthusiasm. "Do you by any chance know the Calid Apartments?"

"Si, it's close to camp nou."

You nod. "Yes, the precious Camp nou."

"Do you like football?" He asks.

You shake your head no. "I'm bad at every sport known to man." You laugh, making him laugh. "That's why I picked cooking as my skill."

"You sure are good at that one." He says. "I'm not letting you bit out of the fact that you offered me more of that lemon cake."

He stopped at a red light, head turned to you. The way he was smiling at you and the way the red light hit the high spots of his face.

You were kind of thankful that the red light was hiding your blushed face.

"I'll make you as much lemon cake as you want." You whisper.

"Promise?" He whispers back, smiling at you.

"Yes." You giggle.

The car behind you honk as soon as the light turns green. Making Pedri's eyes move from you to the street.

"Do you want to play some music?" He asks, trying to act normal, he unlock his phone and passes it to you.

You grab the phone, opening spotify and pressing play to the song that was already playing.

The rest of the drive was silent. Not an uncomfortable one, you feel relaxed in some type of way.

You got a text from Fernando, he was asking you where you were. You block your phone, you'll deal with that later.

"We are here." Pedri says, parking in front of the building.

"Gracias, Pedri." You smile at him. "You saved me. Drive safe."

You close the door of his car, waving at him. You only get to walk a few steps before you hear Pedri calling your name.

You turn back to the car, his window is now down. He has that smile that is growing on you.

"Si?"

"Do you like football?"

You scrunch your nose. "I don't know anything about football, why?"

He chuckles, "I have a game this weekend, it's at 2 pm." He explains. "I know that's in four days, but I was wondering if you would like to come?"

You nod quite quickly. "I might not get anything, but I would like to." You smile.

"Talking about that, I can explain some basics to you."

You nod happily. "Give me your phone." You ask, getting your hand inside his car. You pick his phone, saving your number on his contacts. "You have my number. Text me whenever you are free."

He winks at you, saying a quick goodbye. You turn right before entering the building, waving at him.

☁️☁️☁️

"Hola!" You say, opening the door for Pedri.

"Hola, guapa." He smiles.

You step aside so he can get inside. He has a bag on his hands.

"What's that?" You ask, curious about it.

He hands you the bag. "For you." He smiles.

You grab it, also grabbing his wrist and walking with him to your couch. You sit and open the bag.

It was a simple bag, no indication of what was inside whatsoever. That is why when you open it, you are taken by surprise. It was a barca jersey.

"Una camisa!" You say happy. You take the jersey out and check it. (A jersey!)

"This is the black one." He explains, "we have a green one, the blaugrana one and this one."

You check the back to see which player he picked. "It's empty." You say.

He nods. "I'll let you decide which player you want."

You nod. "Cristino!" You smile.

He burst out laughing at your words. When you mentioned that you didn't know anything about football, he thought that maybe you meant the bases of the game, not that you didn't even knew the players or teams.

"I mean, he was in Real Madrid." He explains.

"Oh," you say, blushing at how dumb you must look. "Then who's on your team?"

"We got Gavi, Ferran, Cubarsi." He began naming the players. "We had Messi."

"I know that one." You smile. "But in my mind, he was a psg player."

"He was, before Miami."

You nod. "Do you want something to drink?" You ask him. "The lemon cake is in the oven." You tease.

"Fuck, can I be honest with you?"

"Siempre." You giggle.

"I trained extra hard just because I knew you would bake something."

"I promise it'll be worth it."

You notice that he has a piece of grass on his hair, you think about it for a few seconds. You decide to move your hand to the side of his head, taking the grass off of him.

"I can tell you trained hard." You joke with him, showing him the small trace of grass on your hand.

Your hand goes back to that section of hair, combing it with your fingers to make sure there is nothing left.

Pedri's eyes are running along your features, the way the natural light makes you look like a work of art.

Maybe it's because it's been a long time since he ever felt this attracted to someone. Maybe it's because you are so new to him, and that makes him want to have you around till he knows you.

Or maybe, just maybe it's because you are not like those other girls in his past. You don't care that he plays in one of the biggest teams of Europe.

You don't care that he just invited you to one big game, you don't even know who is on the team or what position he plays in.

You don't care about his money or take a picture with him to get followers and get people talking about you.

"Done." You smile. "Now, where do we start?"

Pedri clears his throat. "Okay, I know that Real Sociedad and Girona match is being replayed in about fifteen minutes, so I think that we can watch it and I'll explain everything to you."

You nod, letting Pedri get on his zone. He was happy that he got to share something he loved like football.

Pedri takes his time with you, explaining every little detail. There was an offside? He will explain to you why that happens and how to not get offsided.

Was there a yellow? Okay, now you know why you get a yellow. What about two yellow? No problem, he has an explanation.

Someone got a red? Well, now you can tell what kind of red card that is. If it was for too many yellows, if it was for a foul, for violence or any other kind of red.

You know now that Pedri is a midfielder, he explains what he does and why his position was important in the game.

"Pacheco is a defender." He explains, pointing to the player. That's why he seems more aggressive."

"Got it." You nod.

During the game, Zubimendi got tackled by Martinez feet. You frown, knowing now that it was a very evident yellow.

"Wait, why is the guy that gives the cards not giving him a yellow? That was a clear foul." You argue.

Pedri can't help the laugh. "Referee, guapa." He says. "And sometimes you'll notice that referees don't give cards or mark a clear thing. That's because they are some cabrones."

"Okay, so the match is almost done, 90 minutes completed. The referee is now supposed to give extra time that will do to make up for lost time."

"Two minutes?" You ask. "What can you do with two minutes?" You frown.

You not also learned that two minutes was a valuable time in football, but also you learned that you spoke way too soon.

"That is what you can do with two minutes." He says after one player scored. "He can even get another one."

You get up, walking to the kitchen to cut the now cold cake. You place a big slice on a plate. You grab a fork and walk back to the couch.

You handed the cake to him, who didn't even last more than five seconds before taking it into his own hands.

"This is amazing." He says, closing his eyes.

"Glad you like it." You smile. "I'll put the rest in a topper and you can take it home."

"Eres la mejor." He says with a mouth full. (You are the best)

You stayed quiet, watching him enjoy his slice of cake. You feel happy that he was so vocal about liking your food.

You let him talk a little bit more about football. You don't understand, but watching him talk and being so open about it makes him so attractive.

"I'll invite my cousin and his girlfriend." He explains. "Adrian mentioned that you two hit off very well."

"Si, she's really nice."

"Vale, then I think my work here is done." He chuckles. "I'll send you the pass information the morning of the game."

You nod, walking back to the kitchen to save the rest of that cake for him.

"Save a piece for Fer." You tell him.

"I can try." He says, shrugging. "But I might not be that successful."

☁️☁️☁️

"You are alive!" Fer says, exaggerating his tone.

"Never stopped." You laugh.

"Pero joder, you stopped answering my texts." He argues. "You only answer Pam's texts." He rolls his eyes.

"Don't be jealous, you are my favorite loser." You say, hugging him. "I'm sorry I didn't answer, it's just that I was busy." You lie.

"Aja. Sure." He smiles. "Also, Daniel asked me for your number the night of the party and I gave it to him."

You nod, faking a smile. "I know, he texted me." You say.

As much as you want to say that his friend is weird and that you didn't really hit it off with him, you don't.

"Subete! Let's go to camp nou." He does a little dance. "Are you excited?"

You nod, "Very much, I even got a kit." You say, pointing to your jersey.

"You finally caught onto a sport." Fer teases, knowing that you are not good at any sport.

You scuff, hitting his arm very lightly. You roll your eyes, knowing that he is right in mocking you.

You let him tell you about this movie he saw last night. He was so happy with the plot while you pay no attention to him.

Your whole focus was on Pedri's texts, he was asking if you if you were ready for the match and if you had your new jersey on.

You smile at the picture he sent you, it was him ready for warm up. You feel comfortable with him and you feel happy that he feels comfortable enough to be natural with you.

You send him a picture of the road. Updating him on where you are and that you have the jersey he gifted you.

You can't lie, a few days ago you were all < I don't need a new friend / boyfriend. I'm fine alone." But now that Pedri made his way into your life, you are enjoying it.

"Are you even listening to me?" Fer asks.

You nod. "Yes, you burned the banana bread your mother asked you to bake." You say, blocking your screen.

"Who are you even talking to?"

You feel your heart jump from the question.

You aren't doing anything wrong, but you are also sure he won't be happy to know his friend is talking to his little brother.

"Daniel." You say, not thinking enough. You mentally hit yourself because that will create a problem.

"Okay!" Fer says, smiling. "My work as Cupid is amazing, I see."

You stayed quiet, hearing him talk about other topics. You check your phone from time to time to answer Pedri's texts.

When you two arrive at the stadium, you feel kind of nervous. You never been to a game or never really been attracted to any sport so this feeling was new for you.

But you weren't just attracted to the sport, you feel attracted to the boy playing that sport.

"Adrian is inside with Pam." Fer says.

You feel happy, the stadium was really big. You remember that Pedri told you that the Camp Nou was even bigger and that it was better.

Fer and you walk over to the stand, you see that people are starting to take their seats. You follow fer to the correct seats.

"Y/n!" Pam says, getting up to greet you. "Love your jersey."

"Thank you, love yours!" You say, hugging her. "Hola Adrian." You say to the boy next to her.

You sit between Pam and Fernando. He wanted for you to sit there so he could explain som parts of the game to you.

You spend the remaining time until the match starts talking with fer and Pam. Adrian and her had an idea of going to Tenerife to have a relaxing weekend.

Fer was happy because that means visiting his family and being able to have a nice weekend with his friends from Tenerife.

"We can use one of Pedri's days off." Fer suggests. "I know he has some next month, and I think it's on the week that he will play againt Las Palmas."

"That's amazing!" Pam says. "You are coming, right?"

You shrugged. "Can I confirm later?" You ask.

"Venga, you have to come!" Adrian says.

"She will, I'll make sure of it."

The conversation got interrupted by the screaming of the people. You all turn attention to the field where the players were coming.

You see the players doing the intro and everything. To you it was amazing, you never seen that before, and you are sure you look like another young boy in the stadium seeing their favorite players for the first time.

They got in position, ready to play. Pedri turns to the bleachers, he's trying to spot his brother or cousin.

When he does, he notices you next to Fer. His smile grows. He turns back to the field, he needs to have his mind on the ball and not on the bleachers.

You try your best to enjoy the game, doing your best to remember what Pedri told you. When one of the players from the other team pushes the number 9, you quickly frown.

"But that's a clear foul." You say, noticing how the referee gives zero fucks about the in clear pain player. "Why is he not giving him a yellow?"

Fer turns to you. "Because he's an asshole." Fer says.

You turn back to the field. The 9 got up and is talking to the referee. You try to understand why it is so complicated to give a card when it's so obviously deserved.

"Espera," Fer says, turning back to you. "Did you just say the word foul and yellow card?" He asks surprised.

"I'm not that dumb." You laugh.

The first half was good. You stressed about the fact that the players of the other team were on and on over the barca players.

"I hate this game." You say t everyone. You have a pout on your face. "Why is the referee that way?"

"That's what we all ask each other week after week." Adrian says.

"Wait for them to foul Pedri." Fer says on a bitter tone. "They love to ignore how other players attack him."

You just frown. Why would anyone attack that gorgeous man?

You sake that thought out of your head. "That's fucked up." You say to Fer.

Thankfully to you, the rest wasn't that long. You hear the screams and people chanting different players' names.

The second time was somehow worse than the first. Fer wasn't lying when he explained to you that the referees hated barca.

Number 7 makes a wrong move and tackles the 11 of the other team. You can see how the yellow card shines in his direction.

But thanks to Pedri, number 3 and number 2. The game got more interesting. Pedri assist number 9 and he scores a goal.

"Only the extra time left." Adrian says. "And we are still leaders on La Liga."

"Is that good?" You ask Fer.

"That's amazing!" He smiles. "Remember, you always want for us to be leaders."

After the extra minutes the game was over. That meant three more points for barca and a clearly free way to the top.

Pedri got named motm, meaning he was leaving with a trophy. He explained that motm meant that he was the best player among the two teams.

The four of you walk back to the parking lot after waiting a while for the people to start leaving.

"Oye, we will head home for pizza and a drink." Fer says, to you. "And you are coming too."

You nod, thanking him for inviting you to go with them.

"Also I texted Daniel, he will be there in an hour. It's enough time for us to get there."

You got serious. It's not like you hated the guy, but if you had to save an ice cream cone from the sun or save him... yeah the ice cream.

Fer explained to you that Pedri has his car and he will get home after showering and talking to some players.

You check your phone when it vibrates. You had two texts, one from Pedri asking you how the match was from your pov.

And the second one was from Daniel, telling you that he was excited to see you at Fer's and that maybe you can plan an outing while you are there.

You obviously answer the first text, telling Pedri your thoughts. You even tell him that you were enow mad at that specific referee and will find him for not giving a yellow when he got tackled.

You can't help but feel bad at Daniel's text. You hate to ignore people, you answer with a thumbs up emoji.

You made your way to Fer's house. Picking the pizza and some beverages on the way. You text Pedri, asking him if he was planning on drinking something.

He answered that he won't and that he might just stick to some water because he has a recovery training tomorrow in the evening.

"Can you help Pam with the pizza while Adrian and I make the dri-" Fer was saying, but the doorbell interrupted him. "Maybe please open the door?"

You nod, smiling at him and handing the pizza boxes to Pam. You walk to the door and open it.

"Hola, mi guapa." Daniel says, smiling at you. "You look amazing on that."

"Hola." You say, very dry tone.

You turn, leaving him at the door and walking back inside.

Pam was about to talk but she noticed the boy behind you. "Oh, Hi." She says, waving at him.

Daniel was too busy with his phone to answer to her. "Where Fer?" He asks you.

You share a look with Pam, rolling your eyes you point to the patio. You then help with placing the pizzas on plates for the boys and for you.

You walk to the patio with a few plates while you see Fernando and Adrian trying to imitate a tutorial on tik tok.

"Hard much?" You ask, laughing at them. "Let's just drink it 70/30 and call it a night." You suggest.

They agree and bring the drinks to the table. You talk for a while about the match, updating Daniel on how the match went.

You get a text from Pedri saying that he was about to get home. You wanted to talk for a while with him before he got taken by Adrian and Fer.

"I'll go to the bathroom." You say, getting up. "Anyone needs more pizza? I can grab some when I'm back." You ask, trying to make it sound normal.

As if it was you saying you are going to the area 51 or something. You are just going to the bathroom.

They all answer yes to your question. You say you'll bring the box to let them grab a slice by themselves.

You walk to the bathroom just in time to see Pedri walking inside the house.

"Hola." He smiles, you can tell he is tired because of his eyes. "Having a good time?"

You nod, giving him a quick hug hello. "You look tired." You say. "I mean, obviously you are, you just played a lot. Sorry, that sounded really dumb, but also maybe you have a lot of energy because sometimes exercise gives you energy." You ramble.

He chuckles, finding cute how you are trying to remedy your words. "Buaf, a little tired, but I'll maybe go outside. I heard that there's pizz-"

"Y/n." Daniel calls. "There you are, we are waiting on that pizza." He says.

You turn to him, frown from how you were just absent for barely three minutes now. "Oh, it's on the counter in the kitchen." You say.

"Hey, man." He says to Pedri. "I know where it is, but you mentioned you were bringing out, and you didn't, so I thought maybe something happened to her."

"It's been four minutes." You say, checking your watch. "Less, I think."

You can feel the awkward silence from the three of you. Pedri, who's just there, not understanding. Daniel, who is trying to get you to come back with him and you who want him to get away so you can go back to Pedri.

"Vale, you can bring the pizza to them then." You smile. "I haven't even been to the bathroom, I was saying hi to Pedri." You explain.

Why are you explaining yourself? Just tell him to go get the pizza!

"Daniel, llevales la pizza tú." Pedri says, noticing the tone in his brother's friend. (Take the pizza yourself)

Daniel lifts his hands, nodding and going back to the kitchen.

You turn to Pedri, smiling at him. You try to think on what to say after that awkward moment, but you kind of blocked.

"Ya viste mi trofeo?" He asks, lifting his motm trophy. "Ta' guapo, eh!" He says. (Have you seen my trophy? It's cool)

You extend your hands, asking for the trophy. You checked it, and it was cool. Like, really really cool.

"Do you have more of this?" You ask, still looking at the trophy.

"I think I have five." He answers, thinking about it. "I have one that has stars on it." You open your mouth in sorprise, looking at him. "I know, so cool." He smiles.

You smile back at him. You hand him the award back. "I'll let you rest." You say. "If you want to still go out, we have pizza and some drinks." You repeat what you say to him over text.

He nods while blinking. You really like it when he does that. "Well if I don't, text me when you are ready to leave, I can drop you off."

"No seas bobo, you are tired. Plus, your brother will drive me."

"The same one who's probably doing shots by now?" He asks, lifting an eyebrow. "Yeah, he's not driving you home. You need to get home safe."

You want to argue back that he really needs the rest but Fernando magically decides to scream.

"Chug, chug, chug. My turn, my turn!"

You shut your mouth quicker than ever. "Maybe I'll do text you." You say, smiling at him. "Go get some rest, you deserve it."

You say a quick goodbye to him, walking back to the garden. Finding Adrian and Fer competing over who can drink their drink faster.

"Y/n, want a shot?" Daniel asks you.

"I think I'm fine with my drink, thanks." You say, taking your seat. "What are these idiots doing?" You ask Pam.

"Adrian told Fernando he was quicker than him at drinking."

You laugh, watching them prepare different drinks and competing over who was quicker or even who got the best drink in taste.

The night was fun, you were thankful that you had all Sunday to rest.

"So, y/n." Daniel says, taking Pam's seat as she went to the bathroom. "What were you and Pedri talking about?"

You lift an eyebrow. "Does it matter?" You ask.

"I mean, I feel like I need an explanation. You say you were going to the bathroom but you are talking to him. Leaving us without pizza."

"The pizza was in the kitchen, dude." You say, getting irritated. "Why do you care if I took less than five minutes in the bathroom or if I was talking to Fernando's brother?"

"Because you can speak to me instead." He says, passing his arm around you. "I told you we can plan an outing, I might cancel that if you keep behaving like a handover." He laughs.

You take his arm away from you. "Don't worry, I'll cancel it for you. Wasn't going to go anywhere with you, anyway." You say, getting up from your seat and grabbing your phone.

You text Pedri to see if he was awake.

He didn't take much to responde that he was, telling you that he would be down in a moment. He sends you a picture of him playing a game.

You thank him and tell him to take all the time he wants. You are not in a hurry.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Adrian asks you. "Want a drink?" He smiles, lifting his half cocktail at you.

"No, thank you." You smile back. "I just got cold." You half lie, you were cold, but that was not the reason.

"Oh, I can fix that." He smiles, walking to one of the doors by the entrance. He grabs a hoodie from the closet where Pedri and Fer keep a winter jacket and a hoodie just in case.

He walked back to you, handing you a taupe Balenciaga hoodie. You thank him, putting it on.

"So, drink?" He asks again.

You laugh. "I'm good, believe me."

He dissappear back into the garden. You stayed there, enjoying the calm and warmth that the hoodie brought you.

You were dissociating for a moment before you felt a little tap on your head. You go back to reality, finding Pedri in front of you.

"Cute hoodie." He says.

"It's Adrian's." You say. "I was cold, maybe because I'm tired." You smile.

"Let's get you home." He extends his arm to you, offering his hand for you to take and get up.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You ask him. "I can take a cab if you want to go back to your video game."

He shakes his head no. "I can't let you take the risk of going alone to your house in a cab." He says. "Plus, it was time for me to get off of it."

You nod, walking with him to the garage. He opens the door of his Porsche. You find that very cute.

"Want to do the honors?" He asks once he's inside the car, handing you his phone with spotify open.

You played some Quevedo, you love his music so you can't resist to pick it for the drive.

The drive was silent, you feel tired and he feels tired too, but won't let you take a cab and risk you out there. He prefers to take that little bit of strength he has left and make sure you get home safe.

"Te divertiste?" He asks, stopping at a red light. (Did you have fun?)

"I did, thank you for inviting me." You smile. "Even tho I'm mad that the fact that now I have an enemy on the referee." You say with a mischievous tone.

He can't help the laugh he let out. He was happy that you had a good time, and even better that they won the match.

When he stopped at the entrance of your building, he lowered the music. "Thank you for coming, it was good to have you there." He says, looking at you.

You try to answer, but the big yawn that you let out was the only thing your body was letting out.

He chuckles. "Eso pa mi es un de nada." He jokes. "Go to sleep, guapa." (That for me is a you're welcome)

You nod, leaning to give him a hug and a cheek kiss. You got down of the car, when you are about to enter the building you turn and give him a goodbye wave.

☁️☁️☁️

"You want me to bake you a banana bread?" You ask Pedri.

You were in your apartment watching some movie that he got recommended. You tried your best not to fall asleep.

You have been texting, phone calling, and spending time with each other almost every day since the day after the game.

You thought that it might be a short thing and that maybe the idea of the two of you was wrong.

But after you hit the four months mark, you definitely knew that his feelings were real and that he was as interested in you as you are of him.

You enjoy his presence in your life. It's was different and very nice to have him around. He also enjoys your presence. To him, it was fresh to have someone new and who gave him a new perspective of things.

"Buaf, that sounds amazing." He says. "Don't forget that we have that dinner at Adrian's." He says combing your hair.

"Do we have to?" You ask, getting comfortable on his chest. "I mean, you do because he is your cousin. But do I have to?"

"You don't, but I want you there." He says, kissing your hair. "Also Adrian wants you there."

"Aww, pepi." You say in a teasing tone of voice. "You want me there?" You smile.

He blushes a little. "Maybe you are right, you don't have to go." He jokes.

You lift your head, narrowing your eyes and looking at him. He can't help but smile, even though he is pretending to watch the movie.

"Grosero." You say, getting back to your position. (Rude)

He laughs, turning back to you and kissing your shoulder. "Toy' bromeando." He smiles. "I do want you there." He lifts his neck a little to kiss the corner of your lips.

"Pero besame bien," you pout, making his smile grow bigger. You pucked your lips out for him, he quickly imitates the action and kisses you. "So much better." You smile. (Kiss me properly)

He can't help but feel happy, the time you two have spent together was a very happy time for him.

He moves his hands to the back of your head, making you get closer for him to kiss you one more time.

You feel your phone vibrate next to you, making him separate a little to look at it. "That's probably your brother asking me about the pie he wants to take to dinner tonight." You say.

He shrugged and went back to kissing you, ignoring the phone that was vibrating next to you.

"Pero si me vas a hacer ese pan de platano?" Pedri asks as he separates.

You laugh, "I'll do it. Let's just finish the movie." You say, focusing on the movie.

But you can't quite concentrate on the movie when your phone is buzzing at its maximum. You grab it and move it under of a pillow, that way, the vibration won't bother you.

After a few minutes, the phone passed from vibrating from texts to vibrate from a call. Pedri grabs it, passing it to you.

"Hello?" You ask, the number that was dialing you was an unknown one.

"Te he estado enviando unos veinte mensajes, what are you even doing that's so important for you to not take five seconds to answer my texts?" (I've been texting you like twenty times)

You take your phone out of your ear, looking at the number. "Daniel?" You ask lifting yourself from your position on Pedri's chest. You are confused about what was going on. "Is everything okay? Did something happen?"

"I can ask you the same. Did you even see my texts?" He asks in a mad tone.

"No, I'm busy." You say. "Why is that important that can't wait? Are you okay?" You ask, thinking that maybe he was in trouble.

Pedri was looking at you confused. "What's going on?" He whispers.

You shake your head, not understanding anything. You can hear Daniel chuckling and that makes you even more confused than before.

"Check the texts and call me back." He says before hanging up the call.

You are still lost at what even happened, Pedri looks as confused as you are. You shrugged and opened your texts.

First it was a picture of him with two tickets on his hands. It was for this new movie that was having a premier today.

Then it was him asking what your favorite flowers are. He was at a flower shop, and he sent you a picture of different flowers.

And last was him asking if you like chocolate and what kind of chocolate you want. He sent you a picture of one random one next to the tickets and the flowers.

"I think he likes you." Pedri jokes, reading the texts. "Payaso." He scuffs.

"You think?" You ask, lifting an eyebrow. "Gosh, I hate to be all bitchy, like can he get the hint already?"

Pedri can't help the laugh. "He's obviously not getting the hint, preciosa." He says. "Why don't you just tell him straightforwardly that you are not interested?"

You nod. "Like now?" You pout.

"Ah vale, si quieres esperate de acá a que el payaso ese te proponga matrimonio o algo." (Oh okay, if you want, you can wait till that asshole proposes or something)

"Vale, I'm doing it." You say, smiling a little at his jealousy. "You look good when you are jealous." You tease, grabbing his cheeks and giving him a peck.

You can't lie, you have a text on your notes about what you wanted to say. You just edited some things and added other things.

You send the text and place your phone on Not Disturb mode. You really don't care to read any excuse or text he will send. You just want peace.

"Done." You say, blocking your phone. "Now help me pick something for the dinner tonight." You say, grabbing his hand and getting up from bed.

"I'm literally wearing the same thing." He says, following you to your closet.

"Good thing that you are a boy, then." You laugh. "I don't know what to wear."

He starts inspecting your clothes, finding a T-shirt that's exactly like the one he is wearing. "Mira, we can match!" He says, smiling like crazy.

"Let's match, baby." You hug him.

He kisses your cheek, "By the way, Ferran and Eric want to go to the movies. It's after dinner, and I want you to come with me so you can meet them."

"What if your friends don't like me?" You ask, worried about the possibility.

"Buaf, tas loca." He chuckles, grabbing your cheeks. "Ferran te va a amar, incluso no te asustes si te hace una broma el hijoputa." (You are crazy, Ferran is going to love you, don't get scared if he tries to prank you)

You nod, smiling. "Okay, and Eric?"

"Eric, he loves everyone." He smiles, giving you a kiss. "No te preocupes, you are so special. How could anyone hate you?"

He can't help but crashing his lips with yours. His hands are going from your cheeks to behind your neck.

"Stop, I have to get ready." You say, felling his hands go down on your back, "and you have to get that thing Adrian asked you."

He pecks your lips. "Fine, but we're not done."

You send him back to the room, grabbing the clothes and picking some jeans and sneakers. You took a quick shower, getting ready inside the bathroom.

You add some very light makeup, finishing quickly. You go back to the room, getting back in bed with Pedri, who was finishing the movie.

He snuggles into your side, giving you a kiss to the cheek. "Tell me when you are ready." He says.

"What about what you need to get?" You ask, turning the volume down.

"Fer is getting it."

You continue watching the movie, there was only twenty minutes left on the movie when you heard knocks on your door.

You frown, you are not expecting anybody, so you don't really pay attention to it. Sadly for you, the knocks come back two minutes back.

"I'll be right back." You say, getting up from bed.

You walk to the door, thinking that maybe some package ended in the hands of one of your neighbors.

To your surprise, it wasn't a neighbor with a package. It was Daniel, carrying the bouquete of flowers and the chocolates.

He doesn't even wait for you to say anything, he storms into your apartment. He leaves the things on the coffee table.

"Si, Daniel. Get inside." You sarcastically say. "What do you need?"

"You didn't answer your texts." He says, ignoring your questions. "I brought your flowers, peonies, the florist says girls love peonies."

"Daniel-"

"And I got you some chocolate, this brand is that famous one from tik tok. The Dubai one." He keeps going.

"Danie-"

"And don't forget about dinner, I'm taking you to dinne-"

"Para!" You say loudly. "Didn't you read my text?" You ask, exasperated. He nods. "Okay, you did. Then what are you doing here?"

"I know you were just messing around." He smiles. "And that's why I wanted to get you some goodi-"

"How did you get my address?" You ask, thinking about it. "I never gave it to you."

"Oh, Fer did." He says, normally. "But don't get mad, he doesn't know about your dumb text." He laughs.

You blink a few times. Not understanding if what was happening was real or if it was a dream, a very bad one.

"Daniel, I really hate to say this." You begin. "But like I said over text, I'm not interested, and honestly, it's kind of creepy that you are doing things like this."

He laughs, but not in a < you're funny > way, in a very creepy way. "I mean, look at me. You can give me a second chance. In fact you will!"

It's your turn to laugh. You can't even believe he would have the audacity to say that. "Alright, it's time for you to go." You say, turning to your door.

He grabs your arm, bringing you closer. "Don't act all pure and shit."

You don't think twice and lift your knee, you hit his crotch. "What is wrong with you?" You say, hitting his face with your hand as he fell on his knees from the pain. "Get the fuck out of here."

Pedri hears the commotion and walks to where you are, he sees Daniel on the floor and you with an angry face.

"Qué mierda?"

"Este puto payaso que trató de agarrarme por la muñeca, se piensa que le daré una oportunidad." (This fucking asshole who tried to grab me and thinks I'm forced to give his ass a chance)

Daniel who is still on the floor, looks at Pedri with a confused look. Pedri pulls you towards him, covering your body with his own.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" He asks, mad that Pedri was there.

"Venga, pedazo de imbecil." Pedri laughs. "I can ask the same thing. Get up and get the fuck out." He orders.

Daniel quickly understands the situation. "So you are fucking Fer's brother?" He chuckles. "Okay, miss prude."

Pedri takes that as a sign, grabbing the boy by the collar of his jacket, and while he still om his knees, he's dragging him out of your apartment.

Pedri might look small, but he has some force into himself. Once he gets Daniel out in the corridor. He walks back inside, grabbing the flowers and the chocolates.

He throws it at him, slaming the door and closing it. He takes a few deep breaths before turning to where you are.

"You okay?" He asks, walking over to you. "Did he hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm just a little shaken up. But I'm okay."

He wraps his arms around you, giving you a hug and a kiss to your hair. "That chocolate actually looked amazing." He jokes.

You can't help but laugh and roll your eyes. "Let's just wait for him to go, and then we can leave to Adrian's."

He nods, holding you while you calmed down. You asked him some things, trying for him to calm himself down too.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's also very mad. You let him go, walking back to your room to get a jacket.

"I'll see you there, please drive safely." He says, pecking your lips.

"We are literally going to the same place. "Keep your hands to yourself." You joke, pushing him away.

He rolls his eyes at you. "You know you love when I do that." He smirks.

"Kinda."

The whole drive to his cousins house was bored. You try to play some music to feel less lonely on the car.

When you arrive the first person you see is Pam. She greets you, grabbing your arm and waking inside.

"I love your shirt." She says, handing you a glass.

You click the glasses together, laughing at how silly that looked, mostly because it was soda and not an alcoholic beverage.

When Fer arrived, it was followed by Pedri. Fer was laughing at how his brother got him to bring what he needed to.

"Pedri!" Pam calls him. "Come here."

He walks over to where you two are, Pam takes a look at you, then back at pedri, then back at you and then back at pedri again.

"You are matching!" She smiles, pointing at your t-shirts. "That's so cool."

You smile at that. Even if it was planned, it felt so cute. "Buaf, we are." He smiles, finger poking your side.

"Adrian, let's match next time." Pam says, walking to her boyfriend.

You grab Pedri's cheek, squishing it. "Totally random." You laugh.

You all sat down at the table, talking about different things. The biggest topic was the famous trip to Tenerife Pedri and Adrian are planning.

"You are coming, right?" Adrian asks.

You nod, at first, you didn't want to go, but once Pedri convinced you. He asked you to come to the game that was taking place a few days before the trip.

You all talk about the trip, what you will do when you get there, what activities the boys have in mind and other things.

When it was time to leave, you told everybody that you needed to get home and do something. Saying that you might call a cab or use the bus.

Pedri offered to take you since he was going with his teammates somewhere. Nobody said anything, they all just nodded and waved a goodbye at you.

"I've been thinking." He says.

"That's new." You tease him.

"Buaf, grosera. You are meeting my parents." He squish your hand.

"Maybe when we get to tenerife, we can tell your parents that we are together."

He grabs your hand, giving it a kiss. "If you feel ready, then I do." He smile. "By the way, Ferran might or may not ask you for a cake, he loves cakes."

"Pero venga, por qué no me has dicho que estabas con alguien?" Fer asks Pedri, offended that he found out that he was with someone because of a magazine and not because he told him. (Why didn't you tell me that you are with someone?)

Pedri rolls his eyes, he knows that if he confesses that the mysterious girl is, in fact, Fer's friend. He would be mad and won't understand.

"I was going to." Pedri says, watching his phone like nothing happened. "I was just waiting."

"When?" Fer asks, taking the phone out of his hand. "You never hide things out, what is going on?"

"Joder, can't I have something only to myself?"

Fer throws the phone back at him, grabbing his keys and going out.

Pedri and Fer are not ones to keep secrets to each other, that's why Fer was mas about Pedri keeping this as a secret.

His friends invited him to play some padel, he needed that after the fight with his brother.

Daniel was there, so it was good because they always had a chat to update each other on their life.

But this time was different, Daniel didn't wanted to talk to Fer. He barely even acknowledged him, thing that left Fer very confused.

The whole game he was trying to think what was going on for him to be ignored by his friend.

"Daniel, tio, what's going on?" He asks, patting his friends back. "You've been so distant."

"Honestly, I like it that way." He scruff. "Last time we saw each other you linked me with a fucking girl whos fucking your brother for money."

Fer doesn't have an answer for that, he doesn't even understand why Daniel is saying that.

"Qué mierda? Why are you saying that?"

"Because is true, yesterday I got her flowers, some chocolate and even invited her to dinner but when I went to pick her up she was with your brother."

"Yesterday?" He asks, confused. "I saw them yesterday, that can't be right."

"Don't believe me?" He laughs. "Were they wearing matching clothes?" He asks

Fer doesn't answer, he grabs his stuff. He drives home, hoping that his brother is still there. He needed to ask if what Daniel said was true.

He finds Pedri watching Breaking Bad while petting nilo. Was he mad? At him, no. But he was mad at you.

"Are you and Y/n, hooking up?"

"Qué?" He asks, pretending to not understand. "Are you crazy?"

"Tell me the truth, Pedro." He warns him, using his name and not the nickname. "Because Daniel just told me that he went to deliver her flowers and shit and found you there with her."

Pedri shrugged, "Maybe one of the times where I picked her up."

"Turns out that it was yesterday. At first, I didn't believe it, but then he told me you guys were matching, just like you were yesterday."

Pedri sighs, he wants to honor his word when he promised you to keep it private from the group, but he can't deal with this.

"And if I am, what about it?" He asks, turning the tv off. "It's not like is any of your business."

"Pedro, are you out of your mind? You can be fucking girls and giving them money!" Fer shouts. "Don't be fucking stupid."

Pedri can't help but laugh at how stupid Fernando sounds. "I'm not paying anybody for sex. She's my girlfriend."

Fer doesn't know how to answer because Pedri doesn't do girlfriends. He's more of the type to be with someone for a few days and then goodbye.

"She what?"

"Qué es mi novia, idiota." (She's my girlfriend, asshole)

"You don't do girlfriends." Fer says. "Look, if this isn't true and you are actually payin-"

"Me cago en la puta, que no!" He shouts. "Now be fucking useful and take nilo out for a walk."

He starts walking upstairs, not before turning back to Fernando. His brother is speechless, nilo by his side waiting to be taken out after hearing the word "walk".

"And don't say shit, she wants to announce it on Tenerife. So, you are going to be quiet and act normal." He walks two steps, remembering he needs to say something else. "By the way, if you ever insinuate that I'm fucking paying her to have sex with me. I'll beat the shit out of you."

☁️☁️☁️

"Y/n, are you ready to see the game?" Rosy asks, fixing something in your hair as she sets the plate of food on the table. "Hope we win."

"Yes, I'm so excited. We are going to win." You smile.

"Pedri told me you were not a fan of football." Fernando his father says.

"I'm not really that good at sports, but your son helped me with learning about football."

You were eating at their house, Pedri invited you over so you could tell his parents about your relationship.

"She's a good student." He says, placing his hand on your thigh. "She nows now I think even more than me."

You smile at him, intertwining the hand that's he has on your thigh with yours. You think nobody's noticing, but his parents are doing it.

Rosy and Fernando are trying to keep their comments, wanting you two to confirm or deny what you are.

The eyes between you and him keep being not discreet at all, even Fer, who was there just because he lived there, noticed that.

You make a nice talk with both of them, they ask you about yourself and about how you met the boys.

They also explained to you how Pedri ended up in football and how he cried on his first night in Barcelona.

Something embarrassing because without it, it wouldn't be a proper introduction.

"Pedri, tell me something." Rosy speaks.

Pedri nods, serving himself with a few more croquettes. He can't get enough of them.

"I'm sorry to ask, I just can't wait." She says. "Can you please just tell us that you are waiting so we can cut the whole weird talk?" She asks

You choke on your food, trying to help Fer pass you some water. He wants to laugh at how Pedri is all red and shy.

"How do yo-" He tries but his voice fails him. "How do you know?"

Rosy and Fernando exchange looks, they want to laugh at how funny this was. Even Fer was enjoying this a little too much for his brother liking.

"Oh, you know." His father says, filling his glass with more wine. "Parents have that instinct."

"That and the fact that we all saw you kissing on the corridor at the hotel in Gran Canaria."

☁️☁️☁️

[allpiesforourown]

DUDE WHAT DID YOU THINK OF HOUSE!!

Every time I think of the finale I get so emotional. House said in an earlier season "if you die, I'm alone" and they really did an excellent job elaborating on that. House would rather throw away his job, be literally dead to everyone he knows, give up everything just for the sake of staying by Wilson's side even for a few months.

It's so bittersweet. They rode off into the sunset and everyone they left behind is moving forward. You can't help but wonder what will happen when House inevitably ends up alone, but that doesn't matter, because he's happy to live in the moment with Wilson.

I want a post canon story of their last vacation together. I want them sitting by a shitty stick fire while House makes his regular gay jokes saying "you can cuddle me to stay warm, but nothing too handsy" while Wilson laughs. I want Wilson to insist he can climb a mountain, get exhausted and need to stop halfway, and quietly admit he should have taken House's pain more seriously over the years as they share vicodin. I want them to get on the wrong flight and end up in Las Vegas and say oh well fuck it, let's count cards at the casino. But also I don't want that because I know that it would absolutely destroy me when House has to say goodbye to Wilson.

Anyway haha House MD is good

[rafessweetgirl]

secrets

summary: you’re rafe's girlfriend, but he fucked up and now he needs you to be a little more than just that.

warnings: angst, nothing else fr

a/n: based on diary by alicia keys!! i haven't heard this song in years but when i listened to it a couple weeks ago i alr had a story. very strongly recommend listening to it while reading. (that's fr how i wrote it.) i promise ill get pt 2 of everything you wanted out eventually. love yall <3

i wont tell...your secrets 

you woke up from your spot on the couch to the front door busting open. who would come barging in this early in the morning? only one person came to mind. “rafe?” you sat up, hands bracing against the cushion under you to help you stand up. you walk over towards the front slamming into him. he’s been gone since yesterday morning and he looks rough, like he’s been in a fight. except that is exactly what happened. you reach for his face, but he flinches away. “hey, hey what’s wrong? where were you?”

he shakes his head. “nothin’ it’s fine. i’m fine.” 

he doesn’t look fine, not even close. “rafe, come on, you look hurt, let me help.”

he steps away from you. “i don’t need your help but…” his worried eyes meet yours. “baby i-i did something.”

——

rafes silence speaks volumes. he hasn’t uttered a word since he spoke that cryptic sentence. “you have to tell me eventually, baby.”

baby. he loves when you call him that. it softens the hardness embedded in him. it makes him feel better, worthy of your love that he doesn’t deserve anymore. not after what he did.

“you have to swear you wont tell a fucking soul.” 

your secrets...are safe with me

“it wasn’t john b.” that’s what rafe said. over and over again, like a broken record. that it wasn’t john meaning that it was someone else. what that meant you didn’t know. you assumed it meant that john b didn’t do the something bad your boyfriend mentioned, but instead rafe himself.

“what do you mean? what wasn’t john b?”

“i didn’t mean to, i swear….it wasn’t on purpose.” he turns to you, his knees bumping yours. he grabs your hands squeezing them, using you to relieve his stress. “you have to understand, i was just trying to protect ward.” he starts to try and calm himself. “yeah, i did it for him. wasn't tryna hurt her.”

“i can’t understand what you wont tell me, rafe.” there were so many things that he could’ve done. doing them in wards defense was….odd, to say the least. but about a million scenarios ran through your mind, his hands doing nothing to soothe either of you. “you can tell me anything.”

i will keep....your secrets 

you stare at rafe. you physically can’t move. he was the one who killed peterkin. not john b, like the island had believed. your own boyfriend, your sweet, sweet rafe. he said he did it for ward because “she was gonna kill him, i swear.” but why? 

ward didn’t really respect his son and probably didn’t even love him. and rafe hated him for that. all his life, he treated rafe as less than. so why, when it came down to it, would rafe choose ward?

“i love him, i really do, baby.”

“he doesn’t feel the same, rafe!” he shoots up suddenly, making you flinch.

“shut up! he does, he just has a hard time showing it. but i-“ he accentuates the "i" with a finger to his own chest, “i saved him. and now he’ll actually see me as his son, not just some kid he gave his dna to. but i lose that if i go to jail. so you can’t say a fucking word.”

your heartbeat begins to speed up. he’s putting the burden of his actions on you. you had nothing to do with it but if you agree to stay quiet about the truth, you might as well have pulled the trigger yourself. but you can’t betray rafe. you love him and everyone else in his life has hurt or betrayed him in one way or another. you can’t be added to the list.

tears begin to pool in your eyes. a few fall as you look down towards the floor. “i won’t.” 

just think of me as the pages in your diary

his personal diary. whenever shit goes left he'll turn to you, confide in you. he'll open you up, pick up the pen and write down every little secret. when he's done he'll close your pages and make you swear not to tell a soul. then he'll lock you up, guaranteeing the safety of his secrets. 

lovely divider by @kimjiho1

i wanna start a tag list, lmk if you want added! 💞