cigarettesaftersunset

[cigarettesaftersunset]

| RAÍCES DE DINARRÓN: Eso es mi pinshe espososa ... get your own, cabrón |

From Narcos: Mexico, Season 3, episode 10 - Life in Wartime

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(For all Dinarrón content, refer to disclaimer in these posts.)

Salud a mi gente, been a hot minute since I posted and proper screamed in all caps about Dinarrón. And let me tell you…… va a ser como un doozy. Y por qué? Porque esta escena fue la que comenzó todas las mensas shingaderas Dinarrón. Estamos?

Come sit on grand pappy’s lap and I’ll tell you a story. Months ago when I was recording some Dina scenes from Nmx for an IsaDina fanvid which is still a thing except I changed it so not really but like it sorta is... it’s fine I started noticing this thing where like, esp después de que se convierta la jefa de jefas but not just S3 -> see this post Barrón just seemed to ALWAYS be in the background of her shots? Which like, okay it’s not that weird. Mans haunts the edges of the whole show. He was following Mín around at the start of S3 when Mín was AFO big man on campus ... HOWMEVER

This fucking scene hit me right in the chesticle muscle they call that a heart? idk bc this happens after Min comes out of hiding and is Big Boss again. And like it’s awkwaaarrrd. Bc everyone’s a lil like, by everyone, I mean Pancho, Món, and obvious lover Barróncito “Cool Mín, you’re back! Glad you didn’t die, really swell. But Dina’s been holding down the fort like a regular Julius Caesar and her suits are sharper than yours imjustsosorry but I feel like??? she’s more in charge than you, hombre??? …also we're scared of her. Like when you get mad, you look much stress and stomp out of bday parties but when she gets mad, she strings ppl from freeway overpasses like wet laundry, so ….”

Bc lest we forget, this is the same ep Món finds Mayo and takes that tidbit to Dina, not Mín bc no one knows who’s in charge except they totally do and it’s totally Dina but they don’t want to make Mín cry in his soup when he just got back. And based on this scene, it seems Barrón is likewise unsure who’s in charge or he just not done following Dina around like a lost puppy bc he has functioning eyes and a functioning brain with which to process Dina’s extraordinary foxiness and can’t get enough ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who can say

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Y estas pendejadas got me in such a tizzy bc:

a) The way it’s shot. Bc callate alaverga y moment of silence for how fucking cool this looks. Dinarrón aside, enserio I love this shot so much. The close-up on Dina's face, all emo in her feels she turns around, it’s blurry, only for Barrón to slowly come into focus. It's one of those sequences that makes me regret going to school for Physics. Sub pinshe Chapo and Cochi in here, and I'm still obsessed. But like also.... okay.... am I straight bonkers, or does it seem like a weirdly intimate way to frame a shot for two characters who’ve only directly spoken a total of THREE MF TIMES IN THE WHOLE SHOW?? AM I??? CRAZY??? these are rhetorical kthnx had it been Panchito or Món, that would make sense to me. It’s her brothers, we've witnessed heartfelt interactions btwn them, she's close with them. Like alone it isn't weird but like… why??? Barrón?? Legit talked 3 times, I've counted.

b) he refers to her by The Formal “Usthted”

c) again, I ask ignoring the like obv answer of look at his face why is he the one tasked with getting Dina and not one of her brothers?? Like is he still her bodyguard?? Even though Mín is back and presumably he should be up Mín’s ass again?? Or maybe Dina got to keep her clear, obvious lover and blatant malewife security since she was boss for so long???

REGARDLESS, none of it especially makes sense and none of it’s especially explained. And thusly, the only rational thing we can conclude in light of this irrefutable evidence is THEY BEEN FUCKIN.

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And suuurree, you're prob thinking.... Kay. In no way is that the only explanation. And y'know, I couldn't argue with you joke's on you, I can always argue no matter how absurd the angle except the above. Let's unpack this. Barrón is escorting his Boss in life and love to this big ass fam meeting that Ceasar understudy #1 Mín has called to discuss future AFO moves. Dina's standing at one end of the table, Min seated at the other end so that sksksks depending how you look at it, they're both at the head of the table.

More importantly tho, the look SKSKS on Dina's face SKSKSK when Mín asks Barrón about the Amado search. Before that, she's enjoying her smoke, raisin’ her eyebrows at someone all cute-like. Then Mín pipes up, “still nothing on Amado?" Barron says no and Mín tells him to *snap snap* stay on it, sends him away. Her fuckin face when she looks at Mín..... at Barrón.... then back at Mín, is giving like:

".... this biiiiiiiiiiiiiish ....? Just exactly???? tf you think you are??? Ordering mi mano derecha, mi rayo de Luna, mi espososa, MY MALEWIFE, around?? Is he yours???? Oh, no??? Cause he's mine??? Maybe I wanted him to go look for Amado. Or maybe I wanted him to stand next to me so we could look like the sexiest, most devastating, color-coordinated One True Power Couple that ever was. MAYBE THAT'S WHAT TF I WANTED HIM TO DO, MÍN."

… Okay, so maaay have taken some liberties, maybe editorialized that last part unpoquito... but, for sure, just the last bit.

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taglist(have some gifs): @ashlingnarcos @cherixrosa @cherixsays @narcolini @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @criatividad-e @tinylittleobsessions @cigarettesaftersunset @carlislecullenisadilf @artemiseamoon @narcos-narcosmx @thesolotomyhan @southotheborder @mandaloria314 @bellinitini @ashlingiswriting @narcosmx @kesskirata @curaheed @alreadywritten

[cigarettesaftersunset]

JOE KEERY as STEVE HARRINGTON ⤷  stranger things ✗ 4x01

[cigarettesaftersunset]

a little appreciation for That hand placement Joseph Quinn on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon

[cigarettesaftersunset]

the boyfriend material.

[cigarettesaftersunset]

all i want is a stranger things reboot where everything is exactly the same except david harbour plays eleven and hopper, joe keery wears his djo wig at all times, joe quinn switches his american & british accents between scenes and nobody acknowledges it and every time someone says something dumb gaten looks straight at the camera in complete silence like he's on the office. is this too much to ask for?

[cigarettesaftersunset]

˚*ੈ✩ Don’tcha big boy?~ ˚*ੈ✩

[cigarettesaftersunset]

Joe Keery as Steve Harrington STRANGER THINGS | 4x08

[cigarettesaftersunset]

genius absolutely genius!!

| LOS MORRITOS MENSITOS DE NARCOS: A boy-blorb tribute a todos los hijos de la shingadas in this damn show |

♫ To the tune of My Boyfriend’s Back by The Angels ♫ -> and massive fucking shoutout to @mandaloria314 who gave me the song and idea for this video on a sweet silver platter. We are eternally grateful !!!!

TW: Graphic violence, drug use, and pure, unadulterated pandemonium.

Okay but like on a serious note tho, if the violence in this vid genuinely upsets you, like I implore thee, pls take a look around, do you know where you are right now

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Woooooow, I don’t even know where to begin. First off, can’t fully impress upon you, the dodge-dip-duck-dash-dive-dodging who here caught that almost 20 year old reference I’ve been doing to avoid these BCS spoilers. AND YET this gotdamn hellscape of a site (affectionate) has already forsaken me. But it’s fine ….. IT’S FINE. why you may ask??? Bc of the straight pinshe locura that is packed in this shit right here. Literally, have never cackled so hard in my life while editing a video may or may not have been rolling around the floor of my apartment, squealing and kicking my feet in the air like a middle school girl.

No but en serio, we got heads getting caved in with baseball bats, we got bitches getting chucked outta airplanes, we got all kinds of diabolical smiling, we got railing fat lines of drugs, we got make-the-most-of-what-you-have-Miguel-Angel ashtray beatdowns, we got dirt bikes crashing, planes crashing, they even shot up the beauty parlor. Explosions. I said lordt JEYSUS ISSA FIRE.

And yes. Yes, I am aware the above sounds like me just making word salad but they are in fact deep, profound truths the world has yet to discover. So, come one, come all. There’s so many different brands and flavors of desmadre to try, like forreal all blorb food groups are almost equally represented. Step right up and enjoy a nice slice of cartoonish movie violence perpetuated by a bunch of stupid hot, but mentally underdeveloped men who set shit on fire bc they don’t know how to deal with their emotional natures pero nimodo y que los soporten, all set to a funky-fresh, jaunty 60s bop that we all know and love. Kthnxbieeeee

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

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taglist: @ashlingnarcos @cherixrosa @narcolini @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @tinylittleobsessions @mmasalvafics @mmasalva @marrianena @carlislecullenisadilf @artemiseamoon @thesolotomyhan @criatividad-e @southotheborder @mandaloria314 @bellinitini @ashlingiswriting @narcos-narcosmx @narcosmx @kesskirata @curaheed @masalvas-girl @alreadywritten @gangstababydoli @cigarettesaftersunset

[cigarettesaftersunset]

I hope eddie pulls a hopper tbh

they had so much potential to make eddie and steve meet behind behind a burger king at 3:00 am just to make out and smoke and giggle like dumbasses but instead they do this. wack.

[cigarettesaftersunset]

right?!?!

they had so much potential to make eddie and steve meet behind behind a burger king at 3:00 am just to make out and smoke and giggle like dumbasses but instead they do this. wack.

[cigarettesaftersunset]

# eddie is fed up with their lack of music culture

STRANGER THINGS | Papa (4.08)

[cigarettesaftersunset]

*screams* love the eddie content!!!!

Can I request Eddie having a tomboy girlfriend? It can be about anything, Thanks!

Sure!

A/N: i usually do gn reader but this is chill too so if yall want specific gendered readers lmk

Warnings: canon typical innuendos and violence, drug use (weed), alcohol mentioned

Eddie with a tomboy Girlfriend

id assume he’d treat you the same

he would definitely appreciate that you take on more of a ‘one of the boys’ attitude

you probably hit it off with Max

Max is now basically your little sister

back to eddie tho: find it extremely hot when you chug an entire can of beer

if you go to parties and do kegs he’s impressed

like you managed to beat Jacob’s record

hes never been more proud of you

well besides when you graduate

he loves your style

he definitely teases Steve that you’re more manly than him

you beat Steve in arm wrestling and hes bragging to everyone

if you skateboard he is definitely concerned but bc he knows you probably dont wear a helmet

wants you to teach him how to skateboard

if you do sports he will support you albeit with a little annoyance

if you like more nerdy activities he will be ecstatic 

you are part of hellfire whether as a player or just there

the club members now you

they think you are badass

‘how did you bag a baddie?’ type beat

you definitely smoke weed with eddie at his place

you probably have more of a tolerance and he finds that so hot

he definitely likes that you take no shit

you stand up for him and he is WHIPPED

like mans wants to marry you right then and there

v supportive 10/10

[cigarettesaftersunset]

my heart has shattered into pieces. this fic is a masterpiece, I love this sm!!

real people

summary: steve thinks that real people share their feelings; confess the love they have for others. you, on the other hand, think some things are best left unsaid.

a/n: are we really that surprised that the first fic I release when jumping back on the steve harrington train (who this blog was made for, might I add) is an angst fic? no, not really. but I am really sorry for this because I genuinely love this thing, but it makes me fucking cry. I might do a part two depending on steve’s fate in the finale (this fic may or may not be me projecting my own fears for him.) also my asks are open for any headcanons or thots you have about any of the characters I write for, including Steve!

warnings: swearing; mentions of violence; mentions of blood and gore; mentions of (possible) character death; refusal of love confessions; fighting; anxiety attacks; gut-wrenching, heartbreaking angst. there is no happy ending, like at all, I am so sorry. I was in sad girl hours, and this is just a reflection of me being afraid for my boy.

word count: 3.1k

main m.list | steve harrington m.list

•••

You can’t quite remember what happened between Steve getting pulled under and you ripping a monster off of him.

Everything had just…happened so fast.

One thing bleeding and morphing into another, fluttering in a continuous loop, until you were robbed of any concept of time you had left.

There was a rushed haze of screams and cries and flashing red lights as figures that looked like your friends swung at the bats that flew down from the sky. A whirlwind of stolen breath and squirming as you touched his abdomen; as you examined every exposed part of him… And then it just ended. All at once, it was over. But it wasn’t until you were masked by the safety of trees that you finally saw the stains on your hands. A warm crimson film that enveloped your palms and dripped down your arms.

You don’t even remember there being that much red. The monsters bled black, and you all had killed so many. But only one of you was severely injured. At first, you didn’t think it was that bad, just a couple of small wounds and a thick bruising line around Steve’s neck. Nothing to warrant fear for his life. Though, as you wipe the blood onto your pants—the transferred handprints a warning sign of your sanity—you realize you didn’t know as much as you thought.

The only thing that was clear, was that the blood was his, and it wasn’t stopping.

He was in pain. A lot of pain.

You could tell he tried to disguise it. You could see the ways in which he blew it off; expertly trying to keep up that effortless facade. A mask of assurance that was just enough to deter, but never to convince. It was an award-winning act that would even have King Steve brimming with jealousy.

But you saw right through all of it. And part of you—all of you—wishes you didn’t.

Maybe that would be the case if you hadn’t listened to Robin. She meant well, and god did you love her to the ends of the earth. But her nervousness, that nagging fear for your friend, did nothing to quell your own worries. You were already bubbling over the edge, but it was Robin stoking the fire that made you burst.

Rabies. She said he could have rabies or something of that nature.

Nancy and Steve dismissed that idea. An easy wave of the hand as she helped bandage him up, like the notion itself was insane. Completely and wholly unrealistic. Illogical. But Robin’s words, the memory of Johnathon digging that…thing out of El’s leg last summer…

It all became too much.

You lost it. Separating yourself from the group in a moment of distraction, you slid down the cave wall and sobbed. Cried harder than you ever had before; then what you thought humanly possible because the pain you felt was unlike anything. It was grief, you realized. But not the kind you experience after failing a test or losing a job. It wasn’t a menial smoulder in your chest. It was sorrow-filled. A type of hurt that snaps your ribs and squeezes your heart, leaving you totally incapacitated.

It was the kind of grief that left you broken.

You hoped that the crackle of thunder and the constant roaring of shockwaves in the sky would drown you out. You hoped they would erase the evidence of your sadness; of the magnitude of your torment. You couldn’t let them see you like this. Especially him. You just needed time to yourself. To mourn. To prepare. To allow him to slip through your fingers before he was taken from you.

You couldn’t lose him.

But you were going to. And maybe it’s the knowing that’s worse.

Because with every sharp inhale of breath; every time his footfall stuttered and his body swayed, and every time his eyes met yours—when he looked at you like that—you knew.

Steve Harrington was a dead man walking.

And it didn’t matter how much you loved him. It didn’t matter that you would lay your life down on the line for him, nor, sell your soul to whatever higher power exists. None of it mattered.

The universe wasn’t that kind.

You knew he was going to die. You truly did. There was no happy ending in sight; no shred of promising white light at the end of the tunnel. No reality where all of you were going home alive.

It’s this exact notion that forced you to let him go. A decision which would usually have rendered you heartbroken became the safest option in a matter of seconds. As you cried, a switch had flipped, rearranging everything within yourself, and everything—everyone—you believed in.

Leave him before he can leave you.

You didn’t even second-guess yourself.

And so, the distancing began. Within an hour, you had managed to put so much space between the two of you, that no one would ever dare cross it again. Silently, you brandished your flag and dug the trench, burning down three years of whatever it was the two of you had in the process. Steve was none the wiser. And for a moment, a brief second, you wondered what he’d think. If he would agree with you, or if he’d try and talk you out of it. If he’d pity you, or reason with you.

You hoped for the easy route; you begged for a world where he would actually make this easier on you. But knowing him—loving him for what had to be months now—was enough to tell you he’d choose the latter. So you would have to be the fighter. You would have to be the strong one.

And you just had to deal with that.

You watch as the rest of the group trudged on. Silhouettes of your friends, shrouded in inky grey fog and creeping vines, morph with the landscape. You maintain a safe enough distance—not too close, but not too far—as you kick at stones and fiddle with your flashlight. Bursts of laughter ahead of you distract you for a moment.

You were lonely, you realized, as you listened to the four talk amongst themselves. In an effort to isolate yourself from him, you nearly cut off everyone in the process. Like a swift blade that came down on a series of strings, only to stop at the final one. Leaving it unscathed and perfectly intact, while still applying enough pressure to cut it. You wanted nothing more than to lift that knife and entangle yourself in the masses. To leave your anxieties in this hell hole and tuck yourself away in the corner of your room, with your hand in theirs. Except right now, you couldn’t look at any of them. It felt like a feat, to meet the nervous eyes of your friends.

They should be more worried for him than you. Couldn’t they see that? Steve was the one with the gravestone, yet they acted as though nothing was wrong.

But maybe you were being dramatic. Maybe nothing was wrong and Steve would be okay, and you’d get to bring him home. He’d for sure have to go to the hospital, but you’d take care of that. You’d drive him to and from appointments, to work, to the store and to that big empty house of his. Whatever he needed, you’d be there.

You’ve always been there.

…And so has he.

Without words or agreements, somehow, someway you two are always there for each other. You always welcomed it. It made you feel whole. But now it just makes you feel cold. Now you hate it.

Selfishly, you scorn him. Because how dare he. How dare he change for the better. How dare he save you from that swarm of demodogs, or usher you to safety from the Russians. How dare he be so warm and inviting and smell like home. How dare he hold your hand in the ambulance like it was his one and only lifeline. How dare he reaches for your hand again and again and again.

It wasn’t fair.

Hot tears pool at your collarbone, saturating your drying shirt all over again. Though, you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

It’s the least of your worries right now.

“Ya know, if you walk any slower I just might have to pick you up and carry you myself.” Steve’s voice cuts through your haze. He sounds like honey. Golden and comforting, despite having gone through so much shit. It’s almost like a dream. As though you’re floating, slipping further and further out of consciousness until Steve offers an outstretched hand and ropes you back in. If it were any other time, you’d revel in the feeling.

He flashes you a small smile, though it doesn’t reach the corners of his eyes like usual. “Hey,” he stops you then, holding an arm out in front of you. His eyes search yours, moving rapidly as he studies your face. “Everything good?”

You’re lip trembles faintly. No. No, it’s not.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” You mumble with a nod of your head, cursing yourself for not building your walls higher. Taking another step, you push against his arm, only for him to remain still. Unwavering and stoic. It’s completely unlike himself and only adds to your anxiety.

“Seriously, —. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” The words roll off your tongue before you even have a chance to process them.

Steve shakes his head, and it looks something like disbelief. Like he doesn’t want to dare follow your train of thought. As though what you’re implying isn’t worth his time. “Is that what this is? You—jesus...” he runs a hand through his hair, flakes of dried blood and dirt irritating his scalp. He’s sweating, even in the freezing temperatures, and you can’t help but take dangerous note of that.

Steve moves closer to you: toes practically touching as his other hand slowly inches up your arm. “I’m fine, —, okay? I’m alright. I’m—“ both of his hands cup either side of your face, his flashlight long gone and hanging loosely on his belt. “We are okay.”

More tears stream down your cheeks, though you consider they never really stopped. There’s a dam inside you that’s threatening to open. And with every passing second, it cracks more and more. The pad of his thumb slipping over your cheekbone reminds you of this.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, breathing in each other, and probably the most toxic air known to man (not that either of you care). It’s a peaceful moment, strangely. The kind of serenity you want to stay secluded in forever.

Forever.

It sounds lovely. Absolutely wonderful. The wildest dream come to life.

But your mind betrays you, yet again. You can’t have forever. Not with him anyway. So easily did you break your promise of letting him go, just to feel him hold you for a second. Just…one more second.

You’re incredibly stupid. Selfish. A self-sabotaging mess of a person.

You didn’t even notice that he had joined your foreheads; noses bumping together, while faint hot breath fans over your cheeks. “Steve—“

“I can tell you anything, right?”

He laughs gently as the two of you speak at the same time. The vibrations rumble against your body like the earthquake before. “Sorry.” You don’t say anything but he takes your silence as enough of a response.

“You said once, after Starcourt, I could tell you anything…”

Mustering enough energy and strength, you offer him a barely-there nod. He takes a shaky breath then, an odd sensation considering everything that’s happening. He’s acting weird, different…stranger than he typically is. The thought is confusing until it’s not. Because then, it hits you.

He could be dying. Right here, right now. His body could be giving out. His organs could finally be failing him, ready to end both of your lives in an instant.

Please, please, don’t leave. Not yet.

Your vision tunnels as you watch him. Darkness shrouds the edges of your sight, the image of him before you turning fuzzy and distorted. You’re hyper-focused on the movement of his fingers, of his body against yours and the way his breathing seems to come to a complete stop. Everything around you slows down. Is he fainting? Has time stopped? Are you dying? You can’t tell. Your body’s numb; iced over in tendrils of electricity and fear.

Robin's name tickles the back of your throat. You’re about to scream for her, cry out to the others for help as you try to steady Steve.

But then he’s clearing his throat, and you’re about to protest because he really shouldn’t be doing that. He needs to save his strength. At least enough for you to get him out of here and to a doctor if he even makes it—

“I love you.”

The world around you comes to a crashing halt. Like a spinning globe that is going way too fast and falls off of its axis, crashing to the floor. Everything goes quiet. A deadly silence that pricks at the back of your neck and leaves goosebumps in its wake. “You…” you’re hardly breathing, voice just a light whisper that could be mistaken for stunted breathing. “You what?”

Steve swallows thickly, nervous laughter bubbling from behind his teeth. “I uh, I’m kinda not good with timing and all, ya know. Not as uh…smooth as I once was.” He’s chuckling again. And as sweet as the sound once was, it scorches you now. It becomes a thick and dark sludge that coats your lungs and leaves you shaking. “But uh, figured now was a good time. So uh…I love you. I’ve loved you for so, so lo—“

“No.”

Your tone catches him, and even you, off guard. Even in the dim, pale blue light, you can see the way his face contorts downward; a pouty frown of shock becoming increasingly evident. “What?”

You pull away from him. Ripping his warm hands off your face, you hold them to his sides by the wrist. “No, Steve. You can’t—you can’t love me. You don’t love me.”

“But I do. I am in love with you, —.”

Shaking your head, you let him go and pick up speed as you walk away. His footsteps are heavy as his athletic and tall figure looms behind you. You’re both beginning to panic; trepidation straining the air, choking you both out as he scrambles in fear. “—…” you blink back more tears, erratic sobs threatening to claw themselves out of your chest. “For godsake, —, look at me.”

“No!” You spin on your heel, jabbing a finger in his face. He steps back at your sudden movements in shock. “You can’t just…you can’t just fucking say that, Steve. You can’t just fucking say I love you when it’s the end of the goddamn world!”

His shoulders fall slightly, confusion spreading over his body in waves. You could cry just looking at him… You already are. “Why not?”

“Why not?” His frown deepens; expression turning sour as he cowers beneath your anger. “Because…because…”

Because you’re dying.

Because it feels like I can’t live without you.

Because I love you, and I really shouldn’t.

Regardless of the words tumbling in your head, nothing manifests on the tip of your tongue.

You can sense that there’s a sort of expectancy to him. He’s waiting for you to say those three words back. To confess that you love him just as much; just as deeply and as painfully as he does. To confess that you want him more than anything; that you’ll fight for him until this entire fucking mess is over.

You contemplate saying it back; consider grabbing him by that fucking denim vest and kissing him in the way you’ve always imagined. Kissing him the way you’ve only done in dreams; in lonely thoughts, as you lie in bed staring at your ceiling fan. It would be easy to press your lip to his. To whisper ‘I love you’ into his mouth until that’s all either of you can say. It would be easy to tell him. To bask in the knowledge that apparently he’s loved you for a long time, longer than you’ve loved him.

Except you know that’s not an option. You could tell him how you felt, could finally kiss him and say those three simple, life-changing words.

But where would you go from there?

Something bad was going to happen to Steve. It was inevitable. You could feel it in the marrow of your bones, in the presence of your soul and in the depths of your mind. The sight of his littered wounds alone was pounding around your skull like a constant warning. A nagging death tag that swayed before you; taunting you every time you dared to look at him.

If Steve were to die, telling him how you felt wouldn’t be worth it. Knowing both of your feelings were reciprocated won’t matter if one of you ends up dead. If he was gone with the wind in a pile of ash, what use would it be to embrace him as though he was alive? Your heart shatters, weeping and bruised at the mere thought of losing him all over again. Of finally knowing what it’s like to love, only to have to pretend it never happened. That same unimaginable pain courses through you, killing every nerve and muscle as you both stand there, staring and waiting.

It’s a painful twist of fate knowing you’ve missed out on so much. So much time you wasted by being afraid when you could’ve been with him.

“Because what?” Steve mumbles. His voice shakes, and you realize he’s crying too. A faint sheen of tears glistens at the corners of his eyes. Even like this, he’s still beautiful. Ridiculously so.

It’s not fair.

You shouldn’t have to be the one to do this. You shouldn’t have to pick up the pieces while the hero—everyone’s hero—dies alone. You shouldn’t be mourning him as though no one else has the right to.

Part of you reasons that you owe him. For all the times he’s saved your life and for all the times he’s been there, you owe him. If he’s going to die, you will at least do your fucking hardest to make sure he goes without worry, without the kind of pain only pure agony can bring. To make sure he leaves this earth peacefully. Without any doubt or anyone holding him back.

Dying angry is far better than dying heartbroken. If you can’t live with each other, if you can’t keep each other, then the least you can do is end this. For both of your sakes.

So, you decide to take the plunge.

“…Because…I don’t love you back.”

•••

Steve Harrington Taglist

@freaky-dcaky @spideyssunflower @detectivecarisi-1 @superfanmixromancepony @bookfrog242 @spectorfilms @serrendiipty @keepingitlokiii @v0idl1nq @blindedbyyourgrace17 @mrmoonman @emileebert14 @wordle233 @demirunner @randomlyblue @sad-innit @smarie7543 @scoopsahoyharrington @moonknightyws @imanilizabeth @get0ut0fmyr00m @mayempress @dearestestella @themapoftinyperfectthings @handwrittenheroes @cigarettesaftersunset

[cigarettesaftersunset]

the way that Dina looks at Barron just ughhh, I love it sm!!!

| DINARRÓN: Or should I say Dinarellaron … |

(For Dinarrón content, refer to disclaimer in these posts.)

Aka that one time all three Arellano siblings eyed Barróncito like the prime rib he is went heart eyes for Barrón.

And who can blame them? Even los Arellanos are not exempt from popping the occasional catching the occasional workplace boner crush.

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Already. I mean cmooon, given this entrance with that little shy-boy chin bop, wtf did we think was gonna happen??? They were all gonna look at him and be like, “nah?” Sksksksks no they were all fucking goners, right off the bat, like no match to the silent-but-deadly magnetism our boy is droppin here.

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Oh okay, and then this little walk he does down the stairs. Like in all seriousness (i’ve talked about this with Món/Manuel Masalva before) there’s something about his physicality, like it’s all over that legendary S3 scene at Christine too. And idk if it was the directors, or the writers, or just Bobby Soto plain being like, “So, imma walk down these steps in the sexiest way possible, hope that’s cool with you guys” no te preocupes, chulito, it’s v cool with us but like his whole physicality is just undeniably h o ttttt.

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OKAY YOU MOTHERFUCKINGXDJDKSKDJDNDNSJ GOONS. This is it. This is the first time Dina lays her gotdamn beautiful brown eyes on gotdamn beautiful Barrón. And what praytell does she look like? Tell me what she looks like????? I’ll give you a hint …….

SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE SIZING THIS BOY UP LIKE HE A SLICE OF PECAN PIE WITH A FAT SCOOP OF VANILLA ICE CREAM ON TOP. SHE SEES THAT SWEET SNACK SURPRISE AND SHE KNOWS OKAY

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And just join me, for a moment, in overanalyzing this shot bc it’s not just Dina who’s enamored. Juuuust after Barrón leans back, before Mon shakes his hand. Take in that image right there and tell me they don’t ALL look like they wanna climb him like a jungle gym. They straight look like Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed from the Lion King, bout to bust out into showtunes before making a meal of the kid sksksks. And lbr, he and Panchito were in prison for a min so his look might be “aaaah, memories.” Cuz they never really tell us like what is it that made him such a faaan of Barrón in the first place. And gorl was pushin real hard for the rest of the fam to like him, just sayin.

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There’s no logical Dinarrón reason for me to include this except that the way Ramon walks here rivals aforementioned Barrón stairwalk in terms of pure sexness sksksks like godddd he looks good🥴 OH EXCEPT, the way Barrón follows Mon to confront Chapo and Cochi. Already the work ethic. Mans means business strollin behind, already all-in with the backup even tho he just got there.

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And then we have over here Dina also surveying the scene, making sure no one pulls ANY shit, ready at a moment’s notice to fucking cut you no but like literally sksksks she will actually cut you with the champagne bottle she cracked over that putamadre’s head. SO BASICALLY, Dina and Barrón are literally doing the same damn thing, providing the saaame damn function, in case things pop off in this convo between Mon, Cochi and Chapo which I did gif and desperately wanted to include but couldnt bc of Tumblr’s stupid 10 image limit 😤😤🙄🙄

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And here, I’d like to welcome you to our next edition of Inside the Actors- no Scene overAnalysis with Your Local Space Witch, Kaybron. Wherein I will transform, before your very eyes, into the It’s Always Sunny Pepe Silva meme.

First off, Dina adorably rubbing Moncito’s head like, “yes, good job with fam protec against that scareee Chapo and scareee Cochi, big strong, prad of u.”

Second, just after the adorable sibling head rub, Barrón proceeds to PUT HIS HANDS ON PANCHITA’S SHOULDERS like a “cmon buddy it’ll be okay” gesture or “echoes of our secret prison love affair” gesture I’m not sure cause they’re bestest good frands and he don’t want his bestest good frand to be mad at his own party. SO BASICALLY Dina and Barrón YET AGAIN fulfill the same function as the resident comforting watchdogs, at the Same. Damn. Time.

And lastly, but most importantly…. And it’s crucial that you’re here with me, in this moment, because….. there is, for a millisecond …. it’s literally blink and miss it …. but there is A Look. Right after adorb sib head rub, Dina throws a look Barrón’s way and he fucking looks at her back while he’s walking by steering Panchito with adorable shoulder rub. THERES A LOOK. ITS FUCKING THERE.

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AND👏🏼FUCKING👏🏼THEN👏🏼 this pinshe tonteria.

The other Arellano sisters exiting the frame to reveal BOTH OF THEM IN THE MIDDLE mad-dogging tf out of the Sinaloa camp, THE SAME gotdamn expression on their faces, RIGHT next to each other……….

*foaming at the mouth, flips table over* LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING. IM SUPPOSED TO FUCKING THINK THEY ARENT DESTINED FOR EACH OTHER? RLY? LITERALLY SHOVING THE NARRATIVE SYMMETRY IN MY FACE BRANCATO?? AND YOU EXPECT ME TO BE REASONABLE??

Phew. *wipes sweat from forehead, gathers up red string, crumpled paper, and tacks*

And with that, your Honor, The People rest.

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taglist: @ashlingnarcos @cherixrosa @narcolini @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @criatividad-e @tinylittleobsessions @mmasalva @marrianena @cigarettesaftersunset @carlislecullenisadilf @artemiseamoon @narcos-narcosmx @thesolotomyhan @southotheborder @mandaloria314 @bellinitini @ashlingiswriting @narcosmx @kesskirata @curaheed @alreadywritten

[cigarettesaftersunset]

Maybe I’ve been afraid to claim my body, afraid to be wild

                  and break   out into all this sky   around me

Perhaps I can burst

    through ceilings and glass, explode into joy?

— Marlanda Dekine, from “My Black, Rural, Queer Childhood,” Thresh & Hold

[cigarettesaftersunset]

“you’re so pretty,” okay write poetry about me then.

[cigarettesaftersunset]

screamingjdhdjjd!!!! this is fucking art!!!

| RAMADDY: YOUR LOVELY, EVERYDAY, NORMAL RATED R, ROMCOM |

♫ To the tune of You’re Mine by Phantogram ♫

... Un poquito celoso no?

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Okay folks, so yes. It’s been an eternity. But I was waiting for Better Call Saul to be over so I didn’t see any tumblr spoilers bc I have to see what happens to my wife, Kim, with mine own eyes. And also I got Covid💃🏻💃🏻 But, hoo boy do I have a firecracker more like live grenade of a video here. I made the mistake of calling my first Ramón vid, the “epitome of desmadre” ...this shit actually desmadre. And before anyone gives me shit for the age diffs, I’m gonna pull a Walter White and ask that you climb out of my asshole. Yes, Maddy’s in HS. But it’s fucking Euphoria, not the goddamn Disney Channel and by S2 she’s 18 so fr don’t even at me with that shit.

Much has been made of the sexual charisma of the characters, esp the mens of the Narcos franchise. But I’m sorry, I have decided which therefore makes it fact, right? That’s what my relatives on fb seem to think anyway that MADDY FUCKING PEREZ HAS MORE SEXUAL CHARISMA IN HER FANCY ASF PINKY ACRYLIC NAIL than any of the morritos of Narcos yes Mayo and Javi, even you. I said it, don’t look at me like that you unprofessional gigolos cause much like Maddy, I will come for you and because she has the allure of like a Helen of Troy mixed with the magnetism of a JLo, it makes for an obscenely explosive combo with our boi Mon.

Secondly, the idea for this came from a convo in our Narcos fanfic writer’s discord join us there’s lots of gifs of hot ppl and fanfic and frantic fanfic about what the lady versions of the Narcos dudes would be like and in describing the qualities of girl Moncito (loyal ASF, confident, passionate, hot tempered, bit of a loose canon, outrageous style and makeup) we collectively realized Girl Mon is Maddy Pérez. So ofc, I was like “now kiss” and that’s basically this video.

Lastly, the mental image of Ramon literally shooting Nate in the face was not at all a thing I daydreamed about nor delighted in whilst making this look I never claimed to be a pacifist or a role model.

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taglist: @ashlingnarcos @cherixrosa @narcolini @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @tinylittleobsessions @mmasalva @marrianena @carlislecullenisadilf @artemiseamoon @cigarettesaftersunset @thesolotomyhan @criatividad-e @southotheborder @mandaloria314 @bellinitini @ashlingiswriting