#nharidy

[shagaraldurr]

Andrés about Martín: "He is such a dream."

Sunshine Andrés about Sunshine Martín: "He is such a nightmare."

[signorin-anarchia]

Make up title: For Love and Gold

Made up fic title ask game

Holaaa Nada! Thanks for asking 🥰

Ok this was giving me crack vibes since the beginning, and I was wondering if it was just my brain or me loving comedy (not bad for someone who's always written almost exclusively dark!fics).

Then I realized that "For love and gold" is actually the title with which one of my country's most famous comedy is known abroad: "L'armata Brancaleone", literally "Brancaleone Army" lol.

The movie's basically about this unhinged down-at-hell gang accomplishing various ridiculous feats, and if this doesn't give you LCDP vibes, don't know what.

So, basing on my instinct, I'll say:

LCDP, but it's the crackiest enemies to lovers rom-com AU:

Andrés & Martín are both thieves, both masterminds, both the bests in their own fields.

They would make a perfect match... If they weren't the worst rivals in the whole world.

It's not personal, not really, but in the end... It is.

Like the kids they are, they keep stealing one another toys:

Andrés has a plan to rob the Louvre? Martín would figure it out and actually do the thing on his own, just to add an unibrow to the Gioconda and send him a picture in order to give him a stroke.

Martín hacks an online bank security? Andrés would force his assistant Anibal to infiltrate the servers and drain the whole accounts, and then spend the whole pot to book all the tickets for the Engineering Fair.

It may sound hilarious, but Martín isn't having fun at all, so he decides to take totally down his rival by creating the most ambitious and astonishing plan, his poetry, his obra maestra: robbing the Bank of Spain.

But Andrés isn't as stupid as the whole ridiculous cocktail bar scene could tell, and thank to his secret sources (aka: Helsinki with a spyglass), he gains access to Martín's plans.

With the help of his still single - and probably virgin - brother, Andrés is determined to beat Martín to the punch and steal the gold with his own gang, which involves: Anibal, who lives on sending pishing mails to boomers ("pay, or I'll send your wife the video of what you do with your laptop"); Silene, who's the best attraction at funfairs when she does the death roll around a fiery ring riding her motorbike; and Mirko, for no particular reason just like it was for 5 seasons straight.

Martín has on his side Santiago, who needs money to finally pay his vasectomy, Daniel, who currently gets punched in the face for cash by people who need to vent anger, and Agata, because this fic really needs weird debates on sexism during a fucking robbery.

Despite the best conditions (?), Andrés & Martín are soulmates at heart, and unbeknownst to either one, they decide to enter in the bank on the exact same day.

After a kinda-spiderman meme situation, several arguments, various insults about eachother mothers and genital sizes, death threats, and a nervous breakdown (spoiler: Sergio), both sides need to face the hard truth: they're locked in a bank together, police outside is planning to kill them all, and best they can do is to team up.

But Martín is not going to give up his majestic plan because of a dude who uses a fork to eat a cake, so behind the scenes he's planning to give Andrés and his whole gang to the police and escape with the whole gold.

Unfortunately, Sergio - who's falling in love with the charming inspector leading the negotiations - has the very same idea, and while both gangs are forced not to argue to avoid losing face in front of the hostages, they're also secretly planning to betray each other.

If only sudden and frankly disturbing homoerotic feelings weren't popping in Andrés shrunken heart...

May I present you:

"For Love and Gold"

or - the crackiest rom-com you've ever had the displeasure to read.

Written by me for me - and a few other I guess :)

Featuring: a lot of drama, unnecessary slow burn, canon-typical inaccurate descriptions of how a robbery actually works, Martín being Martín, Andrés being Andrés, Arturito being Arturito, mentions of Rafael, gang war, Monica as an hostage again, and Raquel giving relationship advices on the police line.

LOL hope you enjoyed my delusions

[spiny-norman]

Me having to block you for being a cop liker @nharidy

[marirable]

Fluff 13 and angst 20 (you can choose just one if you want, no pressure!) for berlermo

(Angst) 20. “i’m done. we’re done.”’

The bottle slipped from his fingers, falling to the stone floor with a thud and rolling away. The fall was short and the bottle empty - thankfully. It would’ve made such a mess otherwise. Martín wouldn’t want to put a damper on such a lovely evening.

It’s not every day your best friend, with whom you are irrevocably and pathetically in love, gets married for the fourth time.

Call it his bad luck, his penance or something that was bound to happen eventually, but the alcohol did nothing to elevate Martín’s spirits. 

He was sitting in the empty hallway of the hotel where the wedding party took place. Andrés’ fourth. Third that Martín bared witness to. Two times too many for him to handle.

One day he was supposed to snap. And yet he sat outside the restaurant hall, an empty bottle of whisky on the floor next to him and a heart full of love for a man who had no use for it. 

Martín wasn’t lashing out, or dancing on tabletops to disrupt the elegance of the party, or letting one of the waiters fuck him into oblivion in a bathroom stall.

He was hoping to sneak out of the hotel without anyone noticing but the groom seemed to have a supernatural ability to sense when Martín was on the verge of bolting and thus far has managed to prevent him from leaving. What was the point in that, Martín couldn’t tell. Maybe Andrés just wanted to shove his happiness into as many faces as he could. Martín’s face probably made for an even number. It served Andrés’ aesthetic, and that man was damned if he allowed his carefully laid plans to go wrong.

Martín’s been staring at the exit door for several minutes now when a door to the restaurant hall flung open and a single set of steps approached him.

“There you are, Martín!” Andrés’ cheerful voice broke through his haze, and for a second Martín allowed himself to think that maybe Andrés wasn’t just playing a dutiful host. Maybe he missed specifically him. “We are about to close off the party. I want everyone present for the fireworks in the garden. Then we’ll be able to say goodbye to everyone at once before we leave for the honeymoon.”

Well of course it wasn’t even in the slightest about Martín.

He shifted in his chair and turned his head to the side; a silent challenge.

“You can say goodbye to me now.”

The bastard’s smile didn’t even falter.

“Martín, come on, you’re being a brat. It’s only for 20 more minutes.”

“I stayed here longer than I wanted anyway.”

Oh, that hit close to the mark. Andrés shoved his hands his trousers’ pockets.

“I remember very clearly you promising to behave. Is your promise worth nothing now?”

“I promised to behave at the ceremony.” Martín threw him a dirty look. “I did behave at the ceremony. I told you that I’ll skip the party afterwards but you dragged me by the hand into that fucking restaurant!”

“I wanted my best man with me on the happiest day of my life! Is that too much to ask nowadays?”

Martín scoffed, his eyes filling up with tears.

“I’ve fulfilled that duty twice before. Don’t I get a break from your happiest days?”

“It’s different now.”

“It always is.” Martín didn’t even try to rule in the bitterness in his tone. “For you.”

He snuck a look at Andrés, and the change in his demeanour was more obvious now. His jaw was set, head lifted upwards slightly; his eyes fixed on Martín but there was no usual playful spark in them.

“I will write this off at you being inebriated.”

“Inebriated? Just say you think I drank my ass off, you don’t have anyone to impress here with your fancy words.”

Martín regretted the outburst as soon as it left his lips but there was no going back now. One of Andrés’ nostrils went up briefly, as if in disgust.

“Maybe you should leave, then.” Andrés’ voice sounded flat. Martín couldn’t figure out the true emotion behind it. “Why ruin a nice party with your pathetic existence?”

Martín let out a shaky breath.

That’s how Andrés always knew when Martín only seconds away from leaving his side. He knew Martín too well. They were practically joined at the hip on most days, with the exception of weeks - or monhts - when Andrés was blissfully married.

When he had no place in his heart for Martín.

Martín’s own heart threatened to burst if this went on any longer.

Andrés continued.

“If you can’t show even a semblance of composure and joy for me at my own wedding, I have half a mind to throw you out myself.”

Martín chuckled quietly at the thought. Andrés began walking back to the party when Martín replied.

“Semblance of joy. Yeah, I’m done with that. I’m done.” He shook his head and dropped his voice to a whisper. “We’re done.”

Andrés’ steps came to a halt.

The hallway was silent, save for the distant sounds of music playing at the restaurant.

“We?” Andrés threw over his shoulder, anger seeping through his words. “Stop acting like a possessive girlfriend. You taint our frienship with that behaviour.”

“I did nothing to taint our friendship!” Martín barked, aware that the volume at which they spoke now was too loud for the occasion. Almost inappropriate. He didn’t care.

He cared, though, when he was suddenly lifted off the chair by the lapels of his suit jacket and shoved into the wall. Andrés’ knee landed between Martín’s legs and he inhaled sharply.

“Really, Martín?” Andrés’ face was so close, his breath warmed Martín’s cheek while Martín himself stopped breathing. “You did nothing?” Andrés moved his knee up, connecting it with Martín’s groin, making him gasp. “You feel nothing, too?” 

If blood wasn’t rushing away from his brain, Martín would have thought how anyone could walk in on them right now, how Andrés could compromise himself in the eyes of his new bride, how Andrés’ lips were just inches away from his own, and if he only dared--

Andrés let go off him abruptly and took a step back, almost causing Martín to tumble to the floor from the sudden loss of support.

“Get yourself together,” Andrés said, fixing his suit. He didn’t spare Martín a look as he walked towards the restaurant, stopping just before he reached the door. “And, Martín?”

Martín turned his head to look at him. Andrés’ gaze was fixed on the door handle.

“You and I aren’t done.”

With that, he strolled into the restaurant, slamming the door behind him.

Martín slid down the wall, tears falling freely down his cheeks. He sat there for what seemed like eternity until he heard the fireworks go off in the garden and people cheering. He pushed off the floor, then, and walked towards the exit, feeling discarded and empty.

Like a whisky bottle left on a hallway floor.

[veterveter]

Curious about what you have in mind for the coffeshop au!

Ask me about my WIPs

Gosh Nada you make me wish I had things to say about it rather than just a vague coffeeshop AU aesthetic-- I was really in the mood for one of these the other night and couldn't find the perfect one so I thought I could try writing one instead.

Age and setting is mostly to be determined, but Andrés works in a coffee shop, and they always get the exact same customers - until Martín walks in, one day. They're both having a terrible day and are extremely rude to each other, but Martín is back the next day anyway. Andrés has gotten over his terrible day and is curious about this new person, whereas Martín is still offended by something he said and not interested in becoming BFFs. They slowly bond over copious amount of caffeine ✨ I also like to imagine that we actually meet some of the other loyal customers and their stories.

[sherlock-is-ace]

Rodrigo de la Serna

Thanks! :D I have not seen much of him tbh cause I don’t like national stuff, only like 4 shows and he was in just one of those so... kfjgkfg

Rodrigo de la Serna

Hermanos y Detectives

La Casa de Papel

I’m sure I’ve seen him in some interviews or something on TV at some point but nothing I remember tbh...

I will say, I have listened to people, and I am gonna watch El Lobista, I’ve downloaded the episodes last night so I’m starting it tonight ;)

Oh and fun fact! I had a distant memory of a movie they showed us in school, about Belgrano (the movie is called... Belgrano 👌🏻), and I knew I had seen the actor somewhere and I thought maybe it was Rodrigo, but I was totally wrong, it was another actor from another one of those 4 argentinian shows I like lol

Give me an actor and I’ll tell you what I’ve seen them in

[hymnostic]

For the confessions thing! This is a really stupid thing that I just remembered now and will curse you with. My two names (long story) start with a Y and a N so when I used to come across those little fictional character/celebrity X reader ficlets (That I despise lmfao) on Tumblr and such when I was a kid and I would see the Y/N, I would get so weirded out because I didn't exactly know that it stood for 'Your Name' and well, had the sense that those were for me somehow

OH MY GOD i love this......... it's like all fanfic was tailor made and written SPECIFICALLY for u that's so powerful

[roccinan]

It’s a Small World

Happy birthday, dearest @nharidy​ ! Hope you enjoy your humble gift this year too! 

A little fanfic of a fanfic (Children of the Dust), featuring berlermo stuck on the “It’s a small world” ride at Disney World with the twins. Because I read something about the small world ride never turning off, even when the power goes off, and though “LMAO that’s the exact kind of freaky thing that would happen to berlermo!” 

So happiest of birthdays and hope all your wishes come true this year! It’s an honor to be your friend (and to share your brain), and cheers to many more years of vibes and friendship!

-----

It’s a small world after all, it’s a small world after all, it’s a small world after- 

“We get it!” Martín cried, “it’s a small fucking world! La concha de tu madre!”

His voice echoed back at him, floating somewhere into the high-ceilinged dark, before being promptly swallowed by the surround sound amusement park track- it’s a small world after all. 

“Whose idea was it to get on this stupid ride?” he demanded, knees bumping against the steel bar laid across his thighs. “Which one of you demons did this? I swear- I swear, I will shove you off this boat!”

Elena and Gabriel turned their heads from the seats in front, a synced motion not unlike those of the dancing dolls currently bobbing their smiling faces on every corner of this wretched attraction. 

“It was Andrés,” Elena said, a matter of fact.

“So don’t you dare complain about this ride!” Martín barked at her, “most kids would kill to get an experience like this. You’re so lucky and privileged, and you don’t even know it. What an amazing experience! I could spend forever here!”

In retrospect, the ride was actually quite charming, and prior to the malfunction in the boat that left them stranded in the water for the better part of an hour, Martín enjoyed every minute. What was there not to love about a charming escapade through a world populated by singing, dancing adorable dolls?

(Also in retrospect, they could have just gone to Disneyland Paris if the twins wanted it so much. But no. Andrés decided that a family trip to the real Disneyworld in the U.S of A was in order. Orlando also made a convenient, if unconventional, layover between Europe and Buenos Aires.)

And oblivious to the father-daughter spat, Andrés continued humming along to the small world tune beside Martín. Perfectly at home in their amusement park dingy, and not at all looking ridiculous for doing this in a three-piece suit. He was beautiful and powerful, especially so compared to Martín’s own pathetic offspring. 

“Isn’t the resemblance uncanny, Martín?” Andrés said, pointing an elegant finger at a pair of spinning dolls meant to represent a country Martín couldn’t identify. “Those two handsome dolls look just like us.”

One doll had short, black hair. Prettily wrapped in a small emerald suit. The other had hair a shade lighter, and blue button eyes. Both were smiling like idiots and waving at air. Maybe if he squinted, Martín could see the regal, powerful, and genius aurora of these two particular dolls.

Before Martín could lie and say he agreed, Gabriel piped up. “Yeah! They kind of do.”

“No, they don’t,” Elena said, “and you’re just saying that because you’re a suckup.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are-”

Then the music, along with the lights and every last bit of Martín’s sanity, cut out. A shrill scream accompanied the plunge into darkness.

“Please keep your hands and feet inside the boat at all times. Assistance will arrive shortly.”

The intercom repeated the announcement in several more languages, but Martín couldn’t hear it through the screams.

“Fuck!” he hissed, light finally returning to the scene. From Gabriel’s phone, his son now holding it up to illuminate a frankly disturbing image of the Small World marionettes dancing and smiling to complete silence. The shadows and emergency red lights did not help.

“Okay, which one of you did it?” Martín said, “who screamed?”

“It was you,” Elena told him, rolling her eyes.

Andrés laughed. “Please, cariño. Your father is the bravest, manliest man on this planet. He would never scream in the face of adversity!”

“OK.”

Gabriel hovered the phone’s flashlight above the water, then over the faces of the animatronics. And either Martín was hallucinating, or the lighting was not doing the dolls any favors, because he swore at least three of the dolls switched places. 

“Was that one so close to the edge?” Gabriel asked, nervous.

Martín looked at where he pointed, at a tiny brunette slowly but steadily inching towards their boat. What the fuck.

“Of course it was, Gabriel,” Andrés said, “everything is exactly where it should be, and we have nothing to fear.”

Then he shifted closer to Martín and whispered in his ear, “Martín, that doll is moving towards us at an alarming pace.”

“Wh-”

“Shh! Don’t say anything- you’ll alarm the children.”

“So what should we do? Just sit here and let the asshole do whatever it wants?”

“No, but we can’t let it know that we know what it’s planning. If we ignore its existence, then we have the element of surprise.”

“You’re so brilliant.”

Andrés chuckled. “Would you love me otherwise?”

“Hmm, well, I do appreciate your other features very much too.”

“Would you care to elaborate, my darling engineer?”

“Oh, let’s see-”

Elena turned back around. “Hey, we’re hungry.”

“WOW. There are people starving in the world!” Martín snapped at her, “and you’re in the happiest place on Earth, and you still complain? Why can’t you two just show some fucking gratitude for once? Every time we do something nice for you, it’s just ‘whine, whine, whine’!”

“But we are hungry!” Elena fired back, “you promised this would be the best vacation ever, but so far, it’s just been lines and you complaining!”

“Well, if you’re so HuNgrY, just eat your brother- he’s right there!”

“I’m not eating Gabi!”

“Then let him eat you, it’s every man for himself in here!”

Elena glared, then crossed her arms and slumped in her seat. Like a fucking child! Martín rued the day he ever sired her.

“Elena has a point,” Andrés suddenly said, pushing the steel bar up in a blatant disregard for the intercom’s instructions, “they’ll starve in here at this rate, and we’ll miss our dinner reservation. We’ll have to walk out of here ourselves.”

“But it’s a maze of dolls in here,” Martín said, trying and failing to stop Andrés from standing up. “And some technician’s supposed to come for us-”

“It’s been too long, and I don’t like the way that doll’s looking at Gabi.” Andrés straightened the edge of his blazer. “I’ll search for the path first, and when I find the correct route, I’ll come back for you and the twins.”

Martín didn’t really like that plan, or the idea of his Andrés- with his 101 martyr complexes- wandering through a trap of murderous dolls, but they didn’t have a choice. What else were they supposed to do? Follow directions and wait for a park employee to guide them out of here, according to professional protocol? Of course not, ridiculous. They had no choice.

“Be careful,” Martín said.

“I’ll be fine.” Then Andrés leaned down and kissed him, Martín quickly grabbing his jaw and swallowing the kiss into a hearty gulp.

Andrés adjusted his tie, and climbed out of the boat, ignoring the kids’ idiotic protests of “Wait! Andrés, come back- they told us to stay put!” and “No, Andrés, don’t die! Don’t leave us with Martín!” and “Andrés, the restaurant looked shitty anway!” and “Andrés, that’s the wrong direction!” 

Andrés fell into the water, but very gracefully pulled himself back up, and grinned. Flashing a thumbs up at Martín, he hoisted himself over the edge of a platform, and creeping between a pair of rotating dolls, disappeared into the dark. 

After several minutes, Gabriel said, “It’s actually pretty cool, how the animatronics work.”

Elena glanced at the doll, now standing on the literal tip of their boat. “I bet they’re powered by electricity- you just can’t see the circuits.”

“They’re clearly hydro-powered,” Martín informed his idiot children, “why else would they still be moving after the power went out? Use your brains.”

The twins didn’t fight him this time, but Gabriel did feel it appropriate to say, “If we’re stuck here forever, what do we do?”

Martín felt that it would be fair for him to eat his children by that point. It would be their turn to repay him for everything he did for them. But he didn’t tell them that.

“We’ll find a way out,” he said, “I’m a genius, remember? And you two have my genes, so you’re no dimwits either. Of course we’d figure a way out.”

Gabriel gulped. “Okay.” Then he looked to Elena. “I love you, Elena.”

Elena held his hand. “Love you too, Gabi.”

Martín waited for the kids to say “I love you” to their father, but they didn’t. Assholes.

Eventually, that one marionette got so close that Martín had no choice but to stand up and kick it away like a football. It fell with an ugly splash. 

And then finally, Andrés returned, very heroically and very handsomely, even if his blazer was torn in a hundred different places.

“I found the way!” he said, “follow me!”

Martín helped the ungrateful brats out of their seats, then passed them towards Andrés. In single file, all holding hands—the children in between, himself and Andrés and the front and rear—they began making their way towards the exit. And to freedom.

—

They cheered when they finally reached the sunlight. Martín released an open whoop and held out his arms for Andrés to jump into. Then they repeated the victory jump the other way around. And after a good few seconds of cheering and congratulating each other, they turned to the children, who had been suspiciously silent.

But Gabriel and Elena were no longer Gabriel and Elena. Instead, Martín found himself staring at two dark-haired dolls that vaguely resembled his hellspawn. So grabbing the wrong “kids” was an honest mistake that anyone could have made.

“La concha de tu madre!” he said, “we lost the brats!”

“If they were my unholy offspring,” Andrés told him gravely, “I would call it a blessing in disguise. But these are your children, Martín, your flesh and blood! I have to go back for them-”

Andrés threw the blazer off, but before he could very heroically and very handsomely return to the tunnel of horrors, Martín stayed his arm.

“Wait,” Martín said, “it’s getting pretty late. I think we should have dinner first, and come back for them later. We need the strength.”

Andrés nodded. “You’re right, Martín. That’s exactly what we should do. It took so long to reserve those tables in the first place, we can’t let someone else snatch it from us.”

“Precisely.”

Linking arms, they left Small World behind. And somewhere inside, Elena released a distinct, “la concha de tu madre!” right before Gabriel decided it would be more effective to dial uncle Sergio for help instead of waiting for Andrés and Martín to come back.