#this is exactly 5k

[mudanonaito]

[lavendervalleyexpress]

Disney: you can make your movie R-rated but their relationship can’t be explicitly gay

Ryan: oh don’t worry this is a totally platonic road trip buddy comedy

The movie: The poster says, “best friends come together”, there’s a meet cute ugly at a bar and Logan immediately assumes Wade is there to hook up with him (so does the bartender), Wade calls him honey badger, and angel baby, their road trip song is a rock ballad about being lonely and wanting to meet someone, the second act has the classic romcom miscommunication/fight, they’re having a heated fight to one of the most iconic love song duets ever, Wade says, “the Honda Odyssey fucks hard too bad you don’t” and Logan says, “oh we’re just getting started”, after that there’s a shot where car they're in is rocking back and forth for hours and then it cuts to them asleep the next morning, there’s a line about Wade having Logan’s dick in his mouth (spoken by Ryan’s daughter), there’s a scene where they’re looking at each other longingly through a window because they think Wade is about to die (even though Logan hated him yesterday), Wade is very clearly staring at Logan’s abs after his shirt explodes then makes him put on a shirt after he sees other people also looking, they save each others lives by holding hands to a Madonna song about blowjobs, Logan starts walking away until Wade calls after him and he stops like he’s about to turn around and run back and kiss him but the camera cuts off before he does, Wade introduces Logan to Al like a nervous teenager introducing his girlfriend to his mom, and the last shot is their masks sitting next to each other in their ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT

Disney: ok we have notes

Ryan: no.

The movie: *makes $1,000,000,000*

[peace0of0art]

Luffy flirting

[pedriscroquettes]

the three times you said yes and the one time you didn’t – pedri

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, sexual themes, and a broken hearted pedri.

word count: 5.4k

𝖎.

the confetti fell quickly from the sky, getting stuck in your hair as the pieces landed. the cheers from the fans filled up the atmosphere in the stadium and soon enough anna was tugging on your jersey. the number 8 creased as she tried to gain your attention, you slowly turned towards her. her mouth moved but your mind canceled out everything she said. it wasn’t until she stopped talking that you regain your composure.

“what?” you mumbled.

“are you okay?” she tilted her head to analyze your facial expressions.

“yeah, uhm, you know it’s just really loud in here.” you say motioning to all the fans that stood above them.

anna stared at you for a few moments hesitating on asking you another question. it wasn’t loud at all, she was able to listen to mikky’s conversation from the other end of the row. she decided against questioning you wondering that maybe you were just daydreaming.

“i said we can go to the pitch now to celebrate. can you help me with one of them?” she motioned towards her daughters.

“oh! yeah of course!” your old saddened expression quickly disappearing as your mind gained consciousness of what had just happened.

you were thankful that you had spent a lot of your free days with anna and her family so that when you picked up laura instead of crying out she simply clung out to you. as you walked down to the pitch where the team was celebrating you locked eyes with a certain midfielder. he immediately waved at you before offering you one of his iconic smiles. the same smile that had convinced you to move from tegueste to barcelona. the same smile that had once had you head over heels.

you offered him a weak smile before following anna to where her husband was. you carefully placed laura on the ground before congratulating robert on his win. you watched as the family celebrated, admiring the dynamic they had. they seemed so content, so in love.

“hey.” his voice makes you jump.

“hey, champion.” you turn around to face the team’s number 30.

“why aren’t you celebrating with the golden boy?” he asked, a little curious.

“well, i was on my way but you interrupted me.” you lied.

“yeah, okay” he laughed. “well i won’t keep you lovebirds separated. i’ll see you at the next game?”

“maybe.” you weakly smile. you lost the energy to offer your best fake smiles weeks ago.

“okay well bye.” he’s on his way to go bother alejandro when he pauses and turns around to face you again. “by the way, i like your new hair color.”

you freeze. gavi had been the first person to notice the slight change in your hair color. you had just wanted to retouch your hair accidentally grabbing the wrong color. you were thankful it was almost the same as your natural tone and no one had mentioned anything about it, until now.

you shake away your inner thoughts before heading to the other side of the pitch where your boyfriend and his family are. fer is the first to notice you immediately hugging you as soon as you’re ten feet away from him. his screams almost leave you deaf in the process. then it’s pedri who practically attacks you next, lifting you as he hugs you. you can’t help but laugh at the feel of his kisses all over your face.

“well, someone’s extremely happy.” you say as he lets you down gently.

“well, when you win a trophy, beat real madrid, and have the hottest girlfriend you’re allowed to celebrate aren’t you?” he wraps his arm around your waist bringing you closer to him.

“hmm… maybe you’re right.” you kiss him.

“i’m always right.” he leaves short quick kisses on your neck.

“hey, i was wondering maybe we could-”

“chico estrella! your turn with the trophy. give it to robert after.” dembélé instructed him before leaving.

“oh great.” he analyzed the trophy’s beauty before placing it on the ground in front of him. he took his phone out and gave it to you.

“hey babe, would you take a picture of me and my family with the trophy?” he asked you nicely.

you didn’t hesitate thinking he just wanted pictures with his family before taking some with you. but the moment never came, you didn’t even get to touch the trophy that night. you suppressed your feelings not wanting to cause a scene in front of his teammates or his parents. you watched around you as all the players took pictures with their wives or girlfriends and immediately your heart plundered but what felt worse was that none of his family members had asked you to be in any of the photos, not even fer.

after taking the trophy to robert pedri approached you once again. he pulled something out of the pocket of his jacket, a bracelet. the bracelet had three charms hanging from it. a football for the sport that united you both, a butterfly since it was your favorite animal, and the number 15. the day both of you had met. your sadness has been immediately replaced with shock and happiness.

“i was going to get you a promise ring but i didn’t wanna make it obvious by asking you your ring size so i got you this. it’s not much but-”

“not much? pedri this is beautiful.” you interrupted him.

“so, you will accept it?” he asked, trying to hide his smile.

“are you serious? yes, of course!” you hugged him. hugged him like you were both still the same two kids from the island.

too engrossed by the gift you don’t notice the pair of wandering eyes on you from a certain sevillan. his jaw slacks at the sight, at the gift he helped pedri pick out. although, he doesn’t admit it’s not the gift he’s mad about, it's you. he stares at both of you for a while longer before adverting his attention to the boys in front of him. apparently his name twin and alejandro are planning on visiting the local night clubs when they get back. he simply murmured a quick ‘ok’ to their invite before heading to the locker room not wanting to see anymore of you and pedri.

𝖎𝖎.

you don’t jolt or move when pedri walks off limping. you simply bite your nails, a bad habit of yours that anna can’t help but notice. she had been one of the few wags that had traveled to manchester to watch the game. she also notices how you’re not necessarily worried but rather anxious. initially she believes you’re just in shock over pedri’s injury but as the game continues and you don’t ask about him once she realizes that something might be going on.

“hey, are you okay?” she holds your hand.

“hmm?” you ask her to repeat not hearing her the first time.

“i asked if you’re okay?” she asks more concerned than the first time.

“oh! uhm, yeah just you know a bit upset about pedri’s injury is all.” you try your best to convince her of your lie.

“we can leave if you want? the game is almost over plus we’d get to miss the traffic on the way out.” she suggests.

“no! it’s fine anna really.” you insist.

unfortunately for you she doesn’t buy it and you’re currently watching the second half from the tv in your hotel room. she had insisted on staying with you until the guys came back and who were you to deny her? she had been there for you since she had arrived to barcelona. you liked the other wags but anna had made you feel more welcomed than anyone else despite her arriving after you.

“so, are you going to tell me how you really feel?” she poured some tea into a mug before handing it to you.

“i’m sorry i don’t-” you scratched your eyebrow. “i don’t know what you’re talking about?”

she put her mug down on the nightstand before placing her hands above yours, squeezing them. she gave you an empathetic smile, one that made you feel comfortable. she made you feel safe.

“have you noticed that you always muffle all the surrounding noise when we’re at a game? if there’s something going on you can tell me. i’m your friend.” she assured you.

“it’s just- i- if i tell you, you won’t judge me?” you hesitated.

“well, yes we’re friends and i’m worried about you.” she answered.

“when pedri got injured earlier i felt bad for football player pedri but not my boyfriend pedri. i know it sounds horrible but i think… i don’t know.” your voice went flat at the end. you say there regretting saying what you had just said.

“do you love him?” anna’s question took you by surprise.

“obviously! whenever he leaves for practice i miss him. i miss our late night talks, our midnight runs to the park, and-” you paused. the words caught in your throat as soon as you realized you were describing the pedri you had initially moved to barcelona with. not the pedri from now.

“well it’s obvious you love him but are you in love with him?” this time anna was staring at you intently studying your facial expressions once again. you were starting to think that in another life she could’ve been a therapist.

you focus on her question. you couldn’t even come up with an answer that involved the word yes. your stomach churns and all of a sudden you feel nauseous. you try to remember the brown eyes that once comforted you but the ones your minds visions aren’t pedri’s. the guilt of thinking of someone else at the moment starts forming and soon you believe yourself to be the worst person alive. pedri had sacrificed so much for you and your family and you weren’t even sure if you loved him anymore.

what’s worse is that you didn’t even associate the color brown with him anymore.

“i don’t know.” as soon as the words come out of your mouth the pole embraces you. she hugs you close and for a second you feel comfort between the chaos. you feel okay.

that is until you pull away and feel the urge to be honest with her.

“anna, i think- i- i think there’s someone e-” you don’t finish your sentence because soon the door opens and you’re met with a bandaged pedri.

you quickly stand up to greet him, wiping away any forming tears in the process. he offers you a weak smile before groaning at the pain that surged through his leg. without thinking twice you wrap his right arm around your neck before helping him on the bed.

“oh, hey anna!” he greats the older woman once he notices her sitting on the couch.

“hey, pedri. you doing okay?” she motions towards his injury.

“yeah, hurts and i’ll probably be out for a month but you know nothing serious.” he answers. “by the way, robert is still at the stadium with the rest of the players.”

“oh thanks. i’ll be on my way now.” she stands up grabbing her bag before stopping in front of you. “don’t forget to call me or stop by whenever you can.”

“i will don’t worry. see you later.” you walk her out before making pedri a cup of tea as well.

you place the warm cup of tea on the nightstand within his reach before laying down next to him. he murmurs a quick ‘gracias’ before taking a sip of the chamomile tea the hotel provided. you turn to face him studying his facial features. he looks awfully calm after limping off the pitch in pain. you gently place your head over his chest, the sound of his heartbeat filling your ears. he placed his tea back on the nightstand before wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you in closer.

you close your eyes at the close proximity not wanting to cry in front of him. he was so oblivious to it all, to your true feelings and you felt horrible for it. you almost started to pinpoint the moment where the butterflies that once filled your stomach stopped existing but not wanting to alarm the player under you, you quickly shook away that thought. you soon feel his hand rubbing down your back. for a moment you forget about your inner crisis before finding shelter in his body.

“do you remember back in the islands when you told me about how much you wanted to spend the summer in biarritz?” his slow charming voice caught your attention.

“yeah every time we walked by the pier i always annoyed you about it.” you laughed thinking about the old memory

“well if you’re still obsessed with going, i found a house right by the coast we could stay at. what do you say?” he looked down to see your reaction.

“pedri gonzález obviously i’m gonna say yes! maybe we could pass by san sebastián oh and that one restaurant i told you about.” as you kept going on and on about the many wonders near the french town pedri could only laugh at your extensive knowledge.

“where would i be without you?” he kissed your forehead.

‘probably with your actual soulmate.’ is the first thing to form in your mind.

“probably with pablo getting drunk as fuck with your hangover being all over the tabloids.” is what you say instead.

he laughs and doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the night. while his soft snores fill the air you can’t seem to fall asleep and soon your thoughts betray you. you start thinking about the other midfielder with brown eyes. you try to think of anything else but you can only remember how he had been the only one to notice the slight change in your hair and soon enough your mind is flooded with memories of the intense player. the way he would talk yo you at parties when pedri left you to talk to his friends, when he offered to drive you home whenever pedri stayed after to practice extra drills, and the way his smile was contagious.

you grabbed your phone not hesitating on hitting the follow back button before quickly turning it off again.

𝖎𝖎𝖎.

coldplay blasted through the stadium filling the atmosphere with a surreal feeling. although the team had lost tonight the fans were screaming and applauding their team because the league was finally theirs again. as the fans around you started singing along to viva la vida you made your way to the pitch alongside anna. you hardly ever interacted with any of the other wags anymore only finding solace in the polish fitness trainer.

you had barely made it on the pitch when she pulled you close to her. both of you paused your movements as she started speaking to you trying to be discreet.

“i know you’re going through something and you know i have your back but there are cameras everywhere and the last thing i want is the fans crucifying you because you looked at pedri the wrong way.” she covered her mouth in case anyone was recording her.

“yeah, okay. thanks.” you squeezed her hand before making your way towards pedri and his family.

you were almost near fer when you felt someone’s hand on your waist, instinctively you jolted at the unexpected contact. you immediately turned around to come face to face with the player you had been trying to avoid for the past couple of months. your efforts unfortunately failed each time because pedri couldn’t live without his teammate. you had always joked he’d leave you one day to marry the shorter midfielder. now you just cringed every time you thought about it.

“sorry i didn’t mean to scare you.” gavi scratched his neck suddenly nervous in front of you.

“no, it’s fine i just didn’t see you coming.” you paused looking around. “congrats by the way on the title.”

“why do you do that?” his sudden question making you look up at him.

“what do you mean?” you bit your lip at his question.

“look anywhere else but me whenever we talk? am i that ugly to look at?” he jokes laughing at his own joke.

“that’s the problem. you’re not ugly at all.” you once again break eye contact again as his laughter halts. you step back as soon as the words you’ve said sink in. you’ve messed up, badly

“i’ll see you around pablo, I’ve gotta go find pedri. goodbye.” is all you can muster before walking towards the canarian.

the canarian greets you with a comforting smile while fer hugs you immediately as he noticed your presence. his parents do the same as the older brother and hug you before flooding pedri with more compliments. each one adorns the flag of the canary islands and tegueste, it’s an endearing sight. except for you. it’s a heartbreaking sight because you simply don’t feel the same way as they do. obviously you’re happy for pedri, you immediately remember the younger version of him pedro who just wanted school to end so he could head straight to the field to play. but the guilt of not loving him romantically anymore starts consuming you and you can’t even try and fake your smile any longer.

this time pedri does ask you to be in the photos. the first one you take is with him and his family, the next is one of pedri and you with the trophy, and finally the last one is of you alone. pedri smiles widely as he snaps a photo of his beloved with the trophy. he mentions something about making the picture his lockscreen but you hardly pay attention to him when a certain brunette makes his way towards the two of you. you immediately start internally panicking wondering why he was making his way towards the two of you.

“pablo! hermano!” pedri greets his friend with a hug.

the two of them begin a conversation but you hardly pay attention deciding to muffle out their conversation. instead you focus your attention on the surrounding families. your focus landed on andreas and katrine and their son. you admired their dynamic from afar envious of how happy they seemed. just a couple of months ago you had envisioned that life for you and pedri and now you couldn’t even imagine it. your thoughts are interrupted by pedri calling your name.

“babe, can you take some pictures of gavi and i with the trophy?” he innocently asks you meanwhile his teammate just stares at you intently.

“yeah just move over to the right so ale’s family doesn’t come out in the back.” you respond.

the boys make you take about ten photos with each of their phones and initially you don’t have a problem with the close proximity between you and gavi. that is until you’re reviewing the photos you took on his phone and he scoots closer to you.

“we need to talk.” he randomly says as he continues to scroll towards the pic, favoriting the ones he liked.

“no, we really don’t.” you respond curtly.

“yes, we do i think i-” his words are interrupted by your boyfriend.

“babe, i know our trip to biarritz was supposed to be just us but is it fine if gavi and robert’s family joined us as well? come on! you love anna! it’ll be fun!” he tries to convince you.

you stare at him in disbelief. the one trip that you hoped that could salvage your sinking relationship ruined but you had been anticipating this trip since you were ten and wouldn’t let it slip away from you so easily.

“yes, sure it’s fine.” you respond.

that night when pedri leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your stomach it’s not his mouth you envision. when he leaves hickeys around your whole body it’s not his name on the tip of your tongue. most importantly when you lock eyes with him as he fills you up it’s not his brown eyes you see and for that you let out a couple of tears.

you should’ve never left tegueste.

𝖎𝖛.

laura clings onto your leg as the lady in the store asks her how old she is. the youngest lewandowska has clung on to you since they arrived at biarritz one day after you and pedri. eventually, the lady just apologizes for scaring her before leaving the store. it isn’t till you tell her that the lady is gone until you feel her grip on your leg loosen and soon enough she’s standing right in front of you.

“come on, let’s go with your mom.” you stretch your hand out to her to which she immediately grabs as you walk out the store.

anna’s face immediately lights up at the sight of her daughter making her way towards her. the brunette is sitting alongside her husband while pedri is sitting at the other end of the table patiently waiting for you. as you sit down you notice the empty chair across from you. at first you ignore it but as pedri hands out the menus and puts one in the empty space you sit up straight.

“is someone else joining us?” you ask your boyfriend.

“gavi got here last night and i invited him over for lunch.” he says as his eyes scan the menu. he doesn’t know whether to try the lobster tail or the shrimp skillets.

while pedri debates what seafood delicacy he wants to savor, your appetite vanishes. you had forgotten the other barça player would be joining the rest of you on your trip and suddenly you feel the walls of the seaside restaurant caving in on you. you quickly stand up ignoring the look your boyfriend gave you and made your way towards the other end of the table. anna is too busy translating the menu for her younger daughters to notice you until you clear your throat.

“sorry to interrupt anna but can you go to the bathroom with me? i think i have a makeup smudge.” you lie.

“yeah, hold on.” she hands the menu to robert. “robert, i’ll be back just help the girls with their orders.”

“the bathroom isn’t too far from the table you’ve been seated at so it doesn't take long to arrive. as soon as anna closes the door you let out a sigh of relief you don’t know you’ve been holding. anxiety starts to build up inside of you and soon enough you’re pacing around the small room. anna steps in front of you grabbing your hands.

“hey, what’s wrong?” she makes eye contact with you. she tries her best to calm you down but you can’t help the tears that start forming.

“anna i think- no. i’m in love with someone else. well maybe not in love but what i feel for him isn’t platonic anymore.” you finally spill out. the confession is surprising. you shock yourself as you finally admit how you feel about the midfielder.

“anymore? don’t tell me it’s-” she looks at you for confirmation and you just nod your head. “you haven’t done anything with him yet, right?”

“no, no i wouldn’t do that to pedri. i don’t even think gavi knows how i feel. it just happened so suddenly, i’m such a horrible person what the fuck.” you’re downright sobbing now too disgusted at yourself.

“no, don’t say that. we can’t control what we feel. what matters right now is that you don’t act on your true feelings. you’re still with pedri and until you break up with him you can’t act on those emotions.” she tries her best to sympathize with you.

you simply nod, grabbing the napkins near the sink to clean yourself up. you’re thankful you’re wearing waterproof mascara or else you’d look even more bad then you do right now. you start surprising your feelings, something you wouldn’t wish on anyone, and pick up your shoulders. as soon as you feel stable enough, anna leaves you, you stay behind for a couple of minutes before composing yourself again and head out the door.

you don’t plan your exit well because you crash into a much stronger build as you walk out the bathroom. you’re about to apologize when you realize who you’ve just rammed into. his brown eyes bore into yours and once again you feel like you’re on the pitch and it’s just the two of you. you step back not wanting to invade his personal space any longer. he immediately pauses his movements and both of you just stare at each other.

“pablo…” is all your voice can say.

“never thought you’d talk to me again.” he jokes.

“well, i just didn’t think we’d see each other again.” you look down at your feet once again not being able to look at him.

“what do you mean?” he questions you.

“i’m gonna go back to the islands. i don’t plan on coming back for a while, at least i don’t think i will. barcelona isn’t for me, a beautiful town but i can’t be there any longer.” you over share

“i don’t think pedri will be very happy about that. he’s okay with long distance?” he asks genuinely curious about the ordeal.

“pedri won’t have any thoughts on that because i’m breaking up with him.” you confess surprised at your own actions. you had never been so upfront before.

“oh.” his smile he once displayed completely vanished at your words.

“yeah, well i’ll see you at the table.” you’re about to leave but he grabs your wrist lightly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“wait, we need to talk about what you said at the game. i haven’t stopped thinking about it.” he confesses.

“pablo, isn’t it obvious?”

“no? i quite frankly haven’t stopped thinking about what you told me or you in general. i need to- i- i need to know if you feel what i feel.” he stutters trying to explain himself.

“pablo, i’m moving back to tegueste because every time i look at pedri he isn’t you and i hate that i feel that way.” you’re on the brink of crying again. “it’s better if i leave.”

you start walking back to your table when you hear footsteps behind you. gavi was running after you do you increase your speed and soon enough your table is in sight. you’re halfway there when you notice fer and his parents at the table and soon the footsteps that were once chasing you stop. you furrow your eyebrows at the sudden intrusion of your in-laws. you’re too confused at the situation you don’t notice anna’s eyes of panic.

you’re about to sit down when you feel a tap on your shoulder and you’re met with your parents. claps, cheers, and conversations start to fill the atmosphere but you do what you do best. muffle everything around you. you start to panic hoping that whatever you’re thinking isn’t what’s going on. you quickly hug your parents and pedri’s as well. you turn around to face him and sure enough he has a huge grin on his face.

a few minutes pass and soon enough pedri is the only one standing up. you’re really hoping he’s just making a speech about gathering all his loved ones. your mind starts panicking and your eyes make their way down his body to his short pockets. surely enough his left pocket is full. your mind short circuits then and you make eye contact with anna you hope she understands the question you’re asking her with your eyes. your pleading eyes. she simply shrugs.

“…and to my girlfriend who’s sacrificed so much for me. can you believe she left tegueste for me? i wouldn’t have asked for a better partner. you’ve done so much for me and you keep me stable so,” he starts kneeling on one leg and you feel as if you’re going to throw up.

“no, no, pedri stand up. no, no. stop.” you whisper at him but it’s too late. he’s taken the box out of his pocket and a diamond ring is staring at you. no, the ring is threatening you to say yes.

“will you marry me?” the restaurant is full with cheers and applauses.

you stand up being unable to move or respond. the glares of everyone make you feel horrible, you can’t bring yourself to say yes. you can’t say yes. you have to be selfish for once, do what your heart desires. this isn’t about pedri anymore you decide and soon enough the pressure is too much and you start crying. you look at pedri’s face of realization after you’ve taken more than a minute to respond and you feel like breaking down.

“pedri i can’t.” the box snaps shut as soon as you reply and he walks away.

you can’t help but chase after him not realizing gavi, anna, pedri’s parents, and your parents are following the two of you. you call out his name multiple times to which he initially ignored until you’ve all reached a balcony and he pauses. he turns around to look at you, tears welling up in his eyes as they did in yours.

“why?” he sobs out.

“pedri we can do this in private please.” you beg him.

“no, you can answer me honestly in public like how you rejected me publicly a couple of minutes ago.” his tone changes and you don’t recognize the pedri you’re talking to.

“pedri, please.” you cry.

“i spent months planning this hoping you’d say yes. i thought you’d say yes, that we would start a family in a couple of years, settle down and this whole time you’ve been playing me.” he chokes out.

“no, pedri it’s not like that. i just-”

“you just what? fell out of love with me overnight? i have loved you since we were teenagers on that pier back home. what happened, what changed?” his sadness hurts you and you feel even worse than you already do.

“pedri please, i can tell you everything but not here, not in front of everyone.” you beg him.

“no, please enlighten us.” he pauses. “i should’ve never turned down isa for you. she probably would’ve said yes.”

you flinch at the mention of his ex. not once had he compared you to her until now. your feelings changed and now you only looked at pedri with resentment.

“okay! you wanna know what went wrong? i don’t love you anymore. i like someone else.” you finally let out.

you hear as his mom gasps in the background but quite frankly you don’t care. you hadn’t been unloyal to him at all, you had no reason to feel bad except for rejecting him in front of everyone else.

“who?” he asks and eventually he raises his voice as you don’t answer him. “who?”

“it doesn't matter-” you start before you’re interrupted.

“no, it does, who is it? who are you leaving me for?” he demands to know who you’re talking about.

“pedri hermano come on it’s been a rough afternoon. there’s cameras everywhe-”

“stay out of this gav- fuck it’s you isn’t it?” he turns around to confront his teammate.

“pedri, what are you-”

“all those times you gave her a ride home what were you actually doing? hm? to think we were brothers.” pedri scoffs.

“i never cheated on you. i wouldn’t do that to you.” you yell at pedri.

“bullshit. is he better than me in bed? what was it that got you hooked? his dick? did he fuck you better-” he doesn’t get to finish because you slap him. his cheek turns pink in seconds.

“i may be horrible for not telling you earlier that i didn’t love you but not once did i sleep with someone else. i would never do that to you but i wish that i would’ve.” is all you can say before walking away.

you’re almost out of sight when you decide to turn around and face the man you once loved. the man you once hoped would be the father of your children.

“by the way, yes it is gavi. he’s twice the man you are.” you insult him one last time as you walk away.

it’s not until you’re in the parking lot that you break down completely. pedri’s words haunt you and you can’t help regret the awful words you said to him. you lean against the window of your car as you drown in sorrow. you hate yourself but most importantly you hated those innocent brown eyes. the ones that enchanted you every time.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Tale of Love, Death and Maggots, part 22-G

Parts 1-15, 16-G, 17-G, 18-G, 19-G, 20-G, 21-G

I looked into her eyes desperately. Was this a trick? I couldn't sacrifice her. But that steel in her gaze told me not to disobey. “Do. It.”

So I did. “We'll make that sacrifice,” I told Not-Athena. “No, I'll make that sacrifice. Together. Let me take on her burden. For Brett and Athena and our safety, I'll do it.”

The maggots halted for a second. “You mean that, little mortal? You would endure unspeakable agonies just to lessen your love's? You would sacrifice that much?” She paused, as though wagering something. “Would you sacrifice your entire being, take on the witch's agony and carry twice the burden? Would you die for them?”

I nodded resolutely. “I would endure it a thousand times over. I would die and be reincarnated in the flames of hell for them. What greater cause is there than to die for the ones you love, after all? Take my life, Lurker. I will go willingly into the night for love.” 

As a boy, I'd never understood those tales of men holding down the fort, sending themselves off to certain death in a faraway warzone for their wives and children. I'd always told myself that I would desert, flee like a sane person, live a life of comfort far away as hostiles ripped the land I loved to shreds. 

Damn, but I was wrong then.

Not-Athena cackled. “What a fine choice, little boy. What a fine choice indeed. I will release those children, and my young will slither out of the witch, and then I shall have you. I shall take you until you scream and tell me that you can bear no more. Then your bargain shall expire, and I will feast upon you and your loves.”

Her maggots clung to my eyelashes, crawling into my ears and nostrils. I felt them in my innards. “Deal,” I managed to say, swallowing maggots as I did so. They tumbled down my gullet, squirming like butterflies all the way into my stomach.

Then everything went black.

No, that wasn't quite right. Everything went to pain.

Maggots slithered under my nails, like those bamboo stick the Japanese used on POWs. They wiggled past my eyelids and into the sockets, gnawing through flesh where needed. They were everywhere, at my crotch, into my belly button, deep in my ear canal. I was swimming in maggots. 

Hot damn, it hurt. There weren't words for the agony. I would have scrubbed my skin clean, ripped my ribs free from my chest, strangled myself with my own intestines just to be free of the itch. I screamed, but it only let more maggots in. 

They chipped my teeth, ripping at the sensitive nerves beneath the enamel. Sobbing, I clawed at myself. I'd do anything to rid myself of the sensation. Anything to get rid of the pain, the itch, the squirming. Anything at all.

“So do you go back on our deal? I'm more than happy to release you,” came the reply. It reverberated inside my bones, where worms ate their way through my marrow.

No. Never that. Anything but that. I couldn't sacrifice them for me. I wouldn't. I-

A new wave of agony overtook me. I clung to sanity by the tips of my fingers, trying to think of anything except the pain of those little mouths biting into me. 

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[dorothygale]

i finished say yes to the dress og so i've moved on to atlanta and they're all like hi, i'm lindsay, i'm 19, my budget is $2000, my fiance is a nascar driver, and my mother hates me

[burning-academia-if]

1k follower celebration: Rook's short story

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Snapshots from the life of a boy who almost stood a chance.

CW: While violence is not shown on page, this deals heavily with child abuse and PTSD.

A/N: Quick crash course on magic: there are two types of magicians. Heart magicians whose magic is from emotions and Soul magicians whose magic is from core beliefs/morals. You'll learn more in game, but that's what you need to know for this to make sense lol. Hope you enjoy the first story!

At some point he considered the fall. With eyes glazed over, forehead resting against the cold glass of a dusty window. His breath created a consistent fog. The endless arguing in the next room created a hellish ambiance.

            He could already imagine what it was his mother was saying, as muffled as her voice was. He was not, and would never be, another second-rate child overflowing with unstable magic. He did not shatter all the windows in a room because of a fatal miscalculation. She would not be paying for damages.

            It wouldn’t be far if he jumped, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to catch himself. The meeting house rested snug against a long stretch of buildings, and he could vanish between any of them. Duck his head into a store somewhere and wait out the storm.

            He could take the metaphorical fall, too. The persistence of his mother’s voice had his teeth set until his jaw ached. He counted the ticking seconds of the clock, desperate for it to end. The room was so small, encasing him as though caged. There was no freedom like this.

            After a moment, he pushed himself up. The remnants of where he’d laid remained on the glass. It watched as he pushed his heavy legs to make it to the door. To take a moment to stop shaking hands, and push open the door.

            The voices stopped immediately. His mother eyed him, brown eyes burning fierce as she took note of him. The man looked decidedly calmer, and so, he kept his attention on him. Never his mother. He’d never survive.

            “I lost control,” he said in a rush, feeling the growing intensity of his mother’s stare, “I’ll take full responsibility so—”

            “Oh please, you think you’re the first child to have done such a thing.” The man waved his hand, dismissing him completely. “You just turned thirteen, correct? Hormones and puberty and all of that make kids’ magic go wild. It should grow stronger and more stable the more you age. It’s why we have tests like this, to track where every child is at.”

            “As I’ve been trying to tell you, he has more control than the average child. It was merely his nerves.”

            Nerves from what? The test? The unknown adults all staring him down, tearing into him vein by vein to decode his magic? His mother, front and center, lip curled back with a warning if he dared disappoint, but already certain he would?

            “Sure, sure. Once he gets used to it, we’ll be able to tell for sure. As it stands, being able to use magic is a miracle enough already. I hope to see you again.” The man smiled and he couldn’t remember his name, and even his face was blurring though it remained in front of him.

            His smile was easy and automatic and it didn’t feel like his face, “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry again for the damage.”

            The man nodded before leading them outside. There were more words from his mother, sinking into the shadows cast by various wall decorations hanging throughout the endless halls. It was a maze of wood and rolled out carpets and doors full of symbols he couldn’t quite recognize. It was another decade before they were out the door and going into the average parking lot of a shopping district. The dissonance rang in his ears.

            “I taught you better, didn’t I? Hand.”

            “Mom—”

            She snatched his hand and dragged it towards her, wrist up. She pressed a nail, long and red and sharp, against the tender tendons there. His mind went blank as she pressed against it, trailing along the artery, “There are three places we feel our magic the most; the head, the heart, and the hands. So tell me, did you really not feel what you were doing?”

            The answer didn’t matter, he knew. There was only one outcome waiting for him at the end of this.

//

            “Rook Bellerose.”

            “The one and only. Did you miss me Mr. Strauss? It’s been a while since I landed myself in detention.” He kicked back in the chair, arms folded across his chest as he glanced at his other inmates. He knew some of them, vaguely, although names were like water to him. There was no need to retain something when they’d mean nothing to him, even if they tried.

            Mr. Strauss, for his part, did not look as put off as he should, “Ah yes, this is the first time since you started tenth grade. I’m not sure what’s more impressive. Refraining from getting sent here right away, or your reason for detention being that you somehow managed to completely ruin the salad bar to the point the metal holders need to be replaced.”

            He laughed, mirroring the noise around him, pairing with the various comments of, “No, that shit was insane dude—”

            The whole thing had, by all accounts, been recorded as a freak accident, because what else could it be? It wasn’t properly secured and sure, he had maybe tested its durability in a series of actions which could only be described as ‘boys will be boys’, but it wasn’t like he’d meant for it to all come crumbling down.

            It wasn’t like they knew he’d been spilling over magic because he’d just gotten broken up with and his words had been spinning around in Rook’s head for the past week and a half. It wasn’t like his magic was supposed to come from intentions and not fucking emotions, but it seemed like someone got it wrong because his heart had been too loud in his ears for years now and it only made it all worse.

            ‘Christ Rook, you can’t even hold my hand in secret. Am I really that disgusting to you?’

            ‘It isn’t that—’

            ‘Then what is it? Because that’s all I’ve ever felt when I’m with you.’

            “Hey, now they know to secure all the cafeteria equipment better. I think they should be thanking me.” Mr. Strauss rolled his eyes and settled in for the incoming hour. Rook ran a hand through his hair, and flinched at the length.

            When he turned to look at the window, the reflection staring back at him was not the face he knew. His hair was too short, his limbs too long, and his hands too clean.

//

            He imagined he’d break a lot of hearts. Mouth too full of sweet words, mind made of too many walls, chest full of thorns. He figured it was a byproduct of a noxious marriage spiraling down from parent to child. He was his mother’s son. He was not his father’s child.

            It was the first court order which made all of the head magicians’ panic. They were not supposed to go through outside means, however they’d ignored all of his dad’s vehement concerns. His mother was doing what needed to be done, to ensure his magic did not drag the average person into a reality they didn’t belong in. To ensure he wasn’t a danger to others.

            So his father had went and filed an abuse report as the average person did and now Rook was here in a house he knew but could never grow into. His dad had always been too soft, needy, caring, reliable. Every interaction, Rook waited for the transaction. Every time he came home from another one of his fuck ups, he braced himself for the bruising.

            Instead, his dad would pat him on the shoulder and send him outside, “Wasting energy helps. You should have seen me at your age. I nearly burned down the science classrooms because my magic wouldn’t stop flickering.”

            Except his dad’s magic did come from the heart and not the mind. There was no reason for there to be this constant instability, for it to sit so heavily in his veins, and shatter the world around him because years compounded endlessly in his chest and hit him at once in the worst of ways.

            So he’d go out and he’d run and he’d feel the branches snap and bleed him as he did. He’d climb and jump, and expel all the magic he could. He’d reach the end of his known path and stare out into the beyond and let himself scream as though that could chase away everything inside him until he was sane again.

            He’d think about how his heart shouldn’t be able to be so full when it was also a void, devouring the feelings of those around him without feeling a thing itself. He thought of the people he’d agreed to date, and think the false hope he gave was the same as his mother’s calm days.

            When he came home after detention, he’d expected the usual spiel, the standard apologizes, the same refusing to look his dad in the eye. When his father saw him, it was not his latest detention that seemed to be his concern.

            “You cut your hair. When?”

            “Yesterday. It was getting too long.”

            “I never thought I’d see your hair short.”

            “Are you saying it doesn’t suit me?”

            “No, no. It’s just…”

            There were words behind both their teeth that neither dared to say. Rook lived with his dad now but his mother was still his mother and her hands were still yanking him by the fistful, telling him boys shouldn’t have hair so long and it was time to grow up. When his ex had said it was pretty with a punishing smile, he’d found himself standing in front of a bargain salon with ten dollars to spare and a fog of memories.

            His dad, tall and broad, but as soft as a flower, pressed his lips together, “I know you don’t like to talk to me about stuff but…”

            Rook let out a groan, kicking off his shoes and leaving them hazardously by the door, “It’s a haircut. I’m experimenting or whatever. If I hate it, it’ll grow back in a month. Anyway, I got a lot of homework. Later.”

            “Rook, are you sure? I got a call from school; they said you got another detention?” God, he hated that voice. The softness of it. The furrow between his brow and the way he’d duck his head a little to make himself look smaller than he was.

            He tried not to grit his teeth, “Yeah, fine. My magic’s fucked like usual, big surprise.”

            “I know it’s hard to believe right now, but it’s getting better at least. By the time you graduate high school, you’ll have completely adjusted to it.”

            “Great. So just a two more years of destroying property and causing mayhem.” There was too much pressure in his head. He wasn’t really thinking. “You know, when others go through this, they’re not destruction incarnate. It’s always attracting animals, or being too good at running the mile, or making those dumb ‘magic’ tricks look cool.”

            There was weight in his father’s eyes, “We all experience it differently. We’ll manage it as best we can.”

            “Until mom takes me back.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Why had he said that? Wasn’t he better at controlling his words?

            “Rook, she’s not taking you back.” His father was as serious as he’d ever seen him.

            “How many more fuck ups do I have left before she insists I have to go back to her? I wasn’t ruining everything under her care, was I? Maybe it’s where I belong. Like calls to like.” His voice had raised a notch, spilling over like everything he ever was did. A bad habit, a fatal flaw.

            His father took a step towards him, “You’re not like her.”

            Rook swallowed. Shook his head. Imagined how he wanted to hold a hand in theory but in practice it made him sick. People weren’t disgusting, his exes weren’t disgusting. He was. Is. Always.

            He never once scarred, but he had every wound inflicted mapped in his memory.

            “Rook.” There was a warning there, but it went past him. He wasn’t there. He was seven and he was in a room and his mother said he’d need to use magic to get out, to survive. He was ten and she loomed over him, telling him the most basic of magic was to heal your own wounds. He was thirteen, taking that damned test for the first time and showcasing zero control and failing. Over and over.

            “Rook!” His father reached out. A miscalculation. He jerked, body coiled tight, and it was like his magic found a target. It took a moment, a never-ending moment, to realize what he’d done. The sudden red was not as unfamiliar as it should have been. Everything in him screamed monster, and his father cradled his arm. The strange, staggered lines of a magical wound rested on his forearm. Rook was going to throw up his guts.

            “I’m exactly like her.” He said, a confirmation for himself more than anyone. He darted up the stairs, ignoring his father’s shouts. He slammed the door shut and fell back against it. His body was shaking, there was a keen in his throat fighting to become a scream. He kept his back against the wood, a warden against the world.

            For the rest of the night, his father came to check on him, and he stayed quiet. At some point, there was a thud, like he was leaning against the door. Rook stilled his breath, straining both to listen and tune out his voice.

            “You can’t go on like this, Rook. You won’t change if you’re too focused on who you are right now.” His father took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to come to me, after everything that’s happened. But I just hope you find others to rely on. I just hope…I hope that you know you aren’t her, either.”

For a second, he thought of opening the door. To at least apologize for his actions and make sure his father was alright. But his hand stilled at the door. He couldn’t do it. His room was the only place he was allowed to be. He didn’t go to school for the rest of the week.

//

            There were dreams some nights. He’d be at school or hanging out with friends and he’d hear a voice call to him. He’d turn and everyone would look at him strange, although none of them had faces he could see. When he’d look, the space he was in had a familiar hall. Full of old wood and antique decorations, he’d find himself walking down the endless space.

            The voice kept calling. It was familiar in a way he couldn’t place. The wrongness of it would spur him into a run, and the voice would become more frantic, a desperate plea of ‘don’t’ and ‘help.’

            At the end was the testing room. None of the usual set up was there. The walls were bare, the room was bare, save for the body resting on the floor. He’d try to stop, because he knew that body better than anyone else’s. He’d stop, because he didn’t want to see it.

But then a hand would shove him forward, and his mother’s voice would hiss, “I told you, didn’t I? You were always bound to hurt someone.”

And so he’d fall to his knees, and the blood would drip from his hands, and he’d tear himself awake. He’d find his father with his arms locked around him, his magic subduing his own. Even in his sleep, Rook’s curse would lash out and destroy everything.

“You’re ok,” His father breathed against his shoulder, one arm wrapped firmly around his torso and the other cradling his head, “You’re going to be ok.”

But the blood was still on his tongue and his mother’s voice in his ears and a body on the ground. He swallowed for air, fighting to come back to himself. Fighting to live. Fighting to live?

His voice was broken glass, “Am I allowed to want to live, even knowing I only hurt people?”

His father held him a little tighter, “You aren’t just allowed to, you deserve it, too.”

Rook didn’t deserve anything. But he was selfish and he’d take everything anyone was willing to offer. It was why he let his father hold him, and allowed himself to cling to him. For this moment, he just wanted to exist.

//

            The letter was in his hands, a smug grin stretched on his face. His friends eyed him, various reactions on their faces.

            “Read it and weep,” he smacked it down on the desk in front of him, “Accepted to the one and only Vales Grove University.”

            “There’s no way.”

            “You’re full of shit. Your grades are trash.”

            His grades were, technically, painfully average. But that didn’t change the fact that grades weren’t the selling point in this case. The only real requirement was being able to use magic, and Rook had it in droves. In a few months he’d graduate, turn eighteen, and his magic would continue to stabilize.

            It didn’t stop his grin from widening, “With a charming personality like mine, did you really think they’d say no?”

            There was swearing and noises of disbelief and he was snatching the letter back, saying he needed to go tell his dad. He’d gotten the letter in the morning, when his dad had been at work. He hadn’t heard the news and Rook needed to tell him. Obvious good news was still good news. And besides, he owed it to him after everything.

            When he got home, he paused at the driveway. His eyebrows furrowed, taking a long look at the cars lined up. He didn’t recognize one of them. Adjusting the strap of his backpack, he gave it a second glance before heading inside.

            “Uh, dad?” He called, glancing around the entry room. Everything was about the same as always. Perfectly intact and magazine photo worthy, save for the faint coating of dust that they never seemed to be able to get rid of.

            His voice echoed for a moment, and it took too long for his dad to call back, “In my office.”

            Rook ducked through the door, greeted with the only messy room in the whole house. Endless papers and forms and documents spilled over as far as the eye could see. His father sat, rod straight, dark strands of hair falling into his face, a tell-tale sign of stress. And he wasn’t alone.

            Rook jerked away immediately, backpack sliding off his shoulder. It slammed onto the ground, echoing all around. His mother rose from her chair, a serene smile stretched across her face.

            “Oh Rook, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen you. You’ve grown so much.” Her arms stretched out and he needed to run. His heart hammered hard in his chest, his eyes unfocused. Her arms wrapped around him, careful not to actually touch him, like avoiding a disease. Her fingers brushed his hair, long again, and he thought he’d be sick.

            A show. It was a show. He didn’t raise his arms, couldn’t. His mind was going a million miles an hour. He glanced over and there was a second person here. A man. He knew that face. Had seen it every year since thirteen. The one he hadn’t thought he’d needed to learn the name to. He knew his name now.

            “…Mr. Solace.” Rook managed as his mother pulled away. The man rose from his chair, and the smile he usually wore was nowhere on his face. He couldn’t begin to fathom what was wrong.

            “It’s good to see you again. I heard you decided to stay close and go to Vales Grove, correct? Congratulations on your acceptance.”

            He reached out a hand and Rook took it, fixing a smile in place, “Ah, thanks. You already know?”

            Really, his eyes were on his dad when he asked, just a slip away from Mr. Solace’s face.

            Mr. Solace pulled away with a single nod, “It’s part of my duties to keep up with the children I’m tasked with testing. Part of that, is making sure there hasn’t been any unnecessary involvement.”

            “Unnecessary involvement?” His dad flinched, and his mother’s mouth tugged into a frown. Really, he wanted to ask if the man knew she wasn’t supposed to be here. But then, what did it matter? Melody Bellerose was a name which held more power than God—in his life and in a world of messy politics.

            “Yes. It happens often, kids accidentally getting friends involved in things they shouldn’t. Boundaries are hard for kids, especially if your parents decided to put you through public school. It’s simple, you give us a name and we’ll adjust their memories.”

            A ringing sounded in his ears and he shook his head, “I know my magic caused a lot of issues in the past sir, but if you mean I let other people know about magic, I haven’t.”

            His mother’s voice made him feel five again, with how slow and deliberate and dripping with artificial sweetness it was, “It’s alright. We’re both here to take care of it, you don’t have to worry.”

            Both of them. He knew, then, why they were here. Why she was here and what she was claiming and what she wanted. It was too late to get custody, he was a few months out from adulthood now, but there were other things to go after. Always.

            “There’s no one,” he repeated, false politeness falling away with a snarl, “And I swear to god if they put their fucking hands on—”

            He cut himself off and swallowed hard. The room was spinning. There was a body on the ground. There was always a body on the ground. The body was always his fault, one way or another.

            His father stood, voice dropping low, “If he claims there’s no one I believe him. He wouldn’t risk his standing over lying about something like this.”

            “Harvey, you’re really going to let him talk to us like that?”

            “I think he has every right to in this very moment, so if that’s all you needed I’d like you both to leave so I may have a word with my son.”

            Mr. Solace gave a small smile, bundled with fake apologies. Rook moved to the side, stiff and vague, to allow them to pass. Mr. Solace left and his mother followed. He kept his head down as she paused.

            The minute she was gone, his dad closed the door and Rook pressed a hand to his eyes, “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

            “Rook.”

            “I’m fine. I’m not…I’m not going to break.” He was. Likely, he already had. He was still in that testing room, because he’d never leave. He’d been trapped inside since he was thirteen. Since before he knew the room even existed. “At least I got into college, right?”

            It was a weak attempt at a diversion, but his dad had since given up on prying him open. Rook wondered at that, sometimes. If even his dad had given up on knowing him, then there was no one else left for him, was there?

            After a long pause, his dad nodded, “We’ll celebrate, come on. We’ll go grab pizza from your favorite pizza joint. Ask your friends if they want to come, we’ll even do bowling.”

            “Bowling? That’s such an old man hobby.”

            “Plenty of people your age bowl.” Rook laughed, and he rearranged himself again. It was fine. They’d open the door and no one would be waiting for him, lurking in the corner. His mother did not have her ear pressed against the door, trying to take in every word.

            “Yeah sure. Sounds great. I’ll let everyone know.” His hands were not shaking.

//

            At some point he’d wandered off into the arcade area that was incredibly barren on this Tuesday evening. His friends had decided on another round and he’d claimed he was going to go beat some high scores, promising pictures when he did.

            Now, he sat on a hard, round chair and went around in circles. The carpet was the classic kind from the nineties, and the lighting in the arcade room was the kind of neon that hurt your eyes.

            “Hey.” He stopped so fast he nearly toppled off the chair. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he felt the judgement even with your silence.

            “What are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me. You got tired of getting your ass kicked at bowling, so you decided to get your ass kicked at the arcade instead.”

            “I’m here because I don’t know any of your friends, jackass.” You roll your eyes, and your gaze skims the selection of machines. He hadn’t expected you to come. You said you never could stay out late, and he had never pushed it.

            The sight of you is surreal, but it might be because the whole day has been. He’d experienced every single emotion on the spectrum in less than twenty-four hours. You elicited the last few he hadn’t felt when you’d shown up for pizza, scanning his friends and figuring out how you were going to go about it all.

            Now you were here, and if life was different it’d feel like a world of your own. But his nightmare still rested in his ribs and so he did what he always did.

            “Pick a game, we’ll conquer it.”

            “Anything’s fine.” A pause. “Are you really going to Vales Grove?”

            He grinned and threw an arm around your shoulder. A touch painfully easy and familiar, “Hell yeah I did. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me that easily.”

            In the glass of a dusty machine, his reflection stared back at him. It was not him. It never was. The too wide grin of his reflection and the easiness of his body belonged to someone else. His closeness with another spoke of a boy who was safe. It didn’t stop him from this one thing.

            He’d never get close to anyone, but he was still the same selfish child. If you didn’t break the connection, he wouldn’t either. For as long as he was allowed, he’d keep this one thing. Until the endless dream of a body became overbearing. Until you finally found someone who could be your true friend.

            For now, the two of you sat in an old booth with cracks lining the material of the seats. The sound of the machines whirled, paired with the shouts of your voices. A world for two, if he forced his brain to stop thinking. There was no danger. There was no ledge. Years of friendship, and it was all the same. There were no warning signs on the wall.

            But at some point, he would take the fall.

[bluvlet]

Almost 2k words into this The Riddle of the Sphinx and The Trolley Problem comparison and I haven’t even like gotten to half of it yet. We are maybe like 1/3 into it. Also half of these are draft paragraphs. I have never been normal about a piece of media ever.

[renjunphile]

20k sunghoon ice skating second chance romance fic incoming.......... why am i so predictable

[ratatatastic]

do you write fic on ao3?

unfortunately for everyone involved i do!

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @forthewolves @wildlife4life @gayhoediaz @jeeyuns @rogerzsteven thank you all so much 💖💖💖

another nsfw car smut snippet bc I need to finish this before I get back to writing anything else haha

prev snippet

___

He tries to wrap his arms around Buck’s neck to continue making out with him, but then he hits his elbow against the door and it’s loud, and he winces, which Buck feels and pulls away. It doesn’t really hurt, to be honest, it was more surprising. With Buck, he could forget all about their surroundings wherever they’d be. 

“You okay?” Buck asks with concern mixed with amusement. Eddie just nods impatiently and tries to get back to kissing. Buck indulges him, laughing. “Don’t have enough yet?” he murmurs.

“Of you? Never.” one of Eddie’s hands travels down Buck’s back, feeling the strong muscles under his shirt and desperately needing to feel his skin instead of the fabric, until it reaches his waistband, slipping under it and cupping Buck’s ass. “I need you.” he whispers.

“You got me.” Buck responds amusedly, playfully nipping at Eddie’s bottom lip. “I’m literally right here, baby.” his tone is teasing, as he kisses down Eddie’s jaw. Eddie pinches his asscheek, making him yelp in surprise and laugh.

“Okay, smartass.” he rolls his eyes. “I meant, I need more of you. I need you inside me.” he almost moans, his asshole clenching over nothing, so eager to have it filled and stretched and thoroughly fucked. Shit, he’s so horny tonight.

“Oh, you do, huh?” Buck pulls away enough to look at him, hungry look in his eyes. “Think we should get home first?”

“Isn’t this fun, though?” Eddie gives him a shit-eating grin, and Buck just chuckles, leaning in to kiss him again. 

“So much fun.” he says into the kiss. “I can’t wait to be inside you.” he finally says what Eddie’s been wanting to hear. “But you have to give me a minute to, uh- recharge. And, uh-” he pushes himself up again, shifting uncomfortably, still kneeling on his seat and leaning over, and only now does it occur to Eddie that it’s best if they change positions. The small space of a car might not be perfect for two big guys to have sex, but, well, it’s fun, and they’re making it work. He has no intention of stopping kissing Buck until he gets properly fucked, which means no driving for now. He says so to Buck, who just bursts out laughing. “You have no idea how much I fucking love you.” he breathes out, looking at Eddie with so much softness and adoration (...).

___

no pressure tags: @loserdiaz @diazass @elvensorceress @translasso @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @watchyourbuck @alyxmastershipper @transbuck @jesuisici33 @diazblunt @cowboy-buck @theotherluciferr @911onabc @ladydorian05 @eddiediaztho @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @honestlydarkprincess

[stories-by-rie]

how to feel excited about my own projects again

[robbingprince]

Correction Necessary

hurt/comfort, 5k, on AO3

Laurent knew, of course, that he could not subdue Damianos with force. Not with any weapon he could physically wield, not with his bare hands. He used to think he could get the job done with words, but they also failed him. Whenever he meant for a cutting remark or a scalding observation, his traitorous heart would provide a reminder of hurt brown eyes, and his tongue would stall, heavy in his mouth.

Rendering Laurent practically helpless.

Vulnerability was not something he wore with ease. Was not something he could get accustomed to. Was not, in fact, something he was willing to bear, for anything at all in this world, apart from Damianos, and… even for him it was a task of gargantuan proportions. It was difficult to keep his restless nature in check: it kept wanting to slither around worse and worse schemes, crueller and crueller manipulations, anything that would allow him some leverage. It was a difficult thing, to have none. Too difficult.

But planning against Damianos was not something he could do. Anymore. He had already hurt him more than was permissible, to anyone of this earth; he was already indebted to him. (Another form of vulnerability). Justice would be grossly violated if he attacked the man who helped him. Also they were married. And in love. And it didn’t quite do, to scheme against one’s own husband.

Still—and worse. A wedding band was another tie to an entity he could not match in any field. Damen was stronger, his reach was longer, he was more beloved, and more rightly so. He had the moral high ground forever against the man who had him whipped to near death, who kept him in chains, who had him raped. If—when he decided to strike against Laurent, it would only be understandable. And he would succeed, because Damianos always succeeded, in whatever ambition. He took not one but two kingdoms. He negotiated brilliantly with any opposition, no matter how dire (the Veretian council, the Empress of Vask, Laurent, on his worse days). He was undefeated in the arena. He was, Laurent thought sourly, a god.

And Laurent was Laurent: puny, pretty Laurent, who never had one success of his own to claim. First he trailed around his brother, then—his uncle, and now, this. Damianos was the one who handed him his first victory. Has been handing them ever since. And Laurent couldn’t even give his life for him, when it mattered. Useless, always.

He could not—fathom this feeling. Vulnerability like an open wound, cutting into him sharper and sharper with every turn. It seeped into all the spaces eaten away by his anger, corroded on his bitterness. It terrified him. And Laurent was not one to take fear lying down.

And so, he went for the only course available to him: acceptance on a fast track. To vanquish his fear of being vulnerable, he would make himself the most vulnerable he’d ever been, and force himself to remain there until the horror ebbed away. It was what he did with his fear of spiders when he was five. And of sex when he was somewhat older. And—no, there were no others. Well.

That was why he suggested the ropes (Which Damianos, predictably, exchanged for satin ribbons). And the blindfold, and the gag. A reckless plan with no fault. It would work, because it had to. He would break, because he had to.

It didn’t take long.

Gradual, at first, until it was not anymore. First, the blindfold went on, and the world extinguished, sputtered out. Then his wrists, attached to the bed post, and then his ankles, one at a time. It was happening. Now. He was breathing, mostly. Darkness grew. And grew. And grew. And Laurent was, irrevocably, immediately, entirely, afraid. 

The gag in particular was difficult, inserted into his dry mouth, secured with a cloth. As per requested. Laurent, naked on the mattress, had to force his muscles so still it actually burned. The pain helped, but only slightly; it… in his chest, this cavity that should not exist, opening into a bottomless, hungry pit. Terror. It was familiar in the most distant of ways. An exaggeration of something he knew intimately, a roaring hellfire from the heat that always simmered in his lower belly. Terror, it was terror, it was terror.

Ah.

It didn’t matter that Damianos was slow, that his hands moved softly. Perhaps it even made it worse. Laurent’s heart slammed against the tender flesh of his throat, trying to climb its way out. He was strangely cold. He was burning all over. He had already surrendered to absolute, obliviating fear.

Ha, he did take it lying down, then.

The laughter died, putrid in his mouth; the blindfold was wet. His mind was spinning. He was a small animal ensnared in a trap. He was thirteen years old. He was kneeling in a bloody chiton; he was not human; he could not even plead for mercy. Terror owned him. Down he fell.

Read the rest of Correction Necessary on AO3!

[librathefangirl]

good morning!! I know literally nothing about the 4kota plot but hear me out, Percy's new hair made me think Rapunzel au. thoughts?

Hii! Omg yess. No why was that my first thought lol (also why is it that long, it's only been 2 years?? Man truly has magic hair). Very Rapunzel-esque.

And like I looove a good Rapunzel au. There are many versions too, so you could just go wild and have fun with it and it still being very clearly a Rapunzel au (I mean you could do that anyway but y'know). There was this one version I used to read a lot when I was little, and I don't remember all the details but I do remember the ending.

The witch (aka Rapunzel's kidnapper and imprisoner) cuts off her hair and sends her away (?). But she hangs her hair from the window so the prince still thinks she's there. When he climbs up and finds out the truth he gets so distraught he throws himself from the tower and lands in the thorn bushes below and becomes blind (because the thorns damaged his eyes). So he then rides around blind and aimlessly in the desert, where he comes upon a beautiful song (sung by a very sad and lonely Rapunzel). And he recognizes the song! (Because she sung it the first time they met, it was the thing that drew him to the witch's place, and whatnot). So the two are reunited in a happy teary reunion and Rapunzel's tears heals the prince's eyes.

And idk maybe it's all the whump and angst but it's stuck with me (actually a lot of those books did - we had a bunch of 'em, like the wild swans and rumpelstiltskin and the little mermaid etc). Anyway! I really like the whole saving each other/healing the grief and solitude in each other's hearts trope so yeah. Also I think a story like would fit Percy's character quite well.

[louisevonsalome131629]

i know the 10k steps a day thing is more or less arbitrary but i recently started tracking my steps and i'm kind of startled that i average on only 5k.. i have an office job and i often wfh but i also walk my dog three times a day, i don't have a car and i generally enjoy walking and such, so i thought it would be much closer to 10...