#I dont like any of the actual faces in these

[evie-sturns]

nerve - Matt Sturniolo

summary: matt has the worst attitude all day, and when you two finally get home he has the nerve to ask you to touch him which you obviously deny, making him get himself off infront of you.

contains: sub!matt, male masturbation, slighttt humiliation, teasing, matt with an attitude, pathetic!matt, swearing, fluff.

------------------------------------------------------------

7:32pm

matt sits beside me in bed, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as i scroll through my phone. i'm wearing nothing but a small brandy melville pyjama set. matts favourite.

on a quiet night alone with matt like tonight, we'd usually be pouncing on eachother the first chance we get, but were not.

matt knows he's been acting up all day, with the snarky comments, stubborn demeanour and the most bratty attitude.

matt lets out a small whine, he clears his throat slightly as he rolls over closer to me.

"'m hard.." he mumbles, his lap pressed firmly against my thigh,

"i can tell." i whisper back, putting down my phone and looking over at him.

he buries his flushed face into my shoulder, another strangled noise leaving his lips.

"what is it matt?" i sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"it hurts.." he groans himself, looking up at me

"well how about you sort yourself out in the bathroom yeah?" i speak, staring into his big round eyes,

"h-help myself? but-" he glances down at the tent in his lap, "but youre here and i cant-"

"what am i gonna do about that matt?' i ask, earning another loud whine from him as he desperetly palms himself through the thick fabric of his sweatpants. "i dont think you deserve my tocuh after how much of a brat you've been today?" i follow up.

"but- but i do..." matt protests, "i really- please let me.." he speaks as his face falls with disapointment

"im not rewarding your behaviour matt, so im gonna give you some options yeah?" i whisper, trying to ignore the needy look in his eyes.

"fine!" he groans.

"you can help yourself here, in the bathroom, or just not cum at all yeah? but im not touching you." i speak,

"no!" he tries to protest,

"you dont wanna finish? thats fine by me, your choice baby." i speak,

"but- i do- ugh! fine okay!" he babbles before tugging down his sweatpants,

my eyes widen, not expecting him to actually do something about his situation.

he pants heavily as he tugs down his boxers to his mid thighs,

"dont- dont laugh," he croaks out,

"'not gonna laugh at you hon." i assure him, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth,

his pale skin flushes beet red, he looks completley and utterly humiliated.

"okay- okay- just- right.. okay." he rambles,

his brunette hair falls infront of his eyes as he looks down at his lap, gently moving his hand towards his erection.

"okay- just- yeah.. okay shut up.." he whispers,

"im not saying anything!" i giggle,

"yeah- but youre thinkin' it!" he bites back playfully,

he suddenly wraps his long, pale fingers around his girth. his tip is a raw pink, oozing precum.

he purses his lips tight, being sure to not let any noises slip, after all, he didnt wanna look more pathetic, did he?

i see his eyes flutter shut as he squeezes himself once, before gently moving his hand over his tip.

i see his leg twitch slightly,

i stare intensley, causing matt to get even more worked up.

"s-stop- stop lookin' at me-" he croaks out, his voice high pitched and whiny.

"shh," i whispers, pressing a finger to his plump red lips.

he moves his hand under my mouth, "can you please- spit-" he asks, i shake my head,

"told you, 'm not doing anything for you after this big attitude you've built up." i remind him,

his eyebrows knit together with frustration, "you're bein' so mean!" he mutters,

"what was that?" i ask,

"nothing."

i see him spit in his palm, gently running the same hand down his length, one of his fingers tracing the long vein on the side of his cock.

"feels- feels so good." he whimpers,

he gently starts to pump himself, his hand sliding over his tip.

he gnaws on his bottom lip before looking up at me through his eyelashes, i continue to sit on the bed to his side as he lays down against the large pile of silky pillows.

hes dead silent, desperately trying to hold back his noises.

"you're allowed to make noises you know, 'm not judging you,"

"yeah- but its so- embarrassing. i dont want to- i dont know let go like that." he grunts, his eyes fluttering closed.

"its just me hon, ive heard everything before." i assure, him, gently running my long acrylic nales over the soft skin of his lower tummy.

"i- i dont want anyone to hear!" he says, his resolve rapidly crumbling,

“i’m the only one here baby, everyone else is out,” i assure him,

suddenly a loud moan rips out of him, his back arching off the bed.

“there we go, good boy.” i coo, keeping my hand on his lower stomach.

he keeps his fist firmly around his shaft, moving his hand up and down rapidly as his eyebrows pinch together.

“oh fuck-“ he whines, his movements getting faster.

i see him look up at me through narrow eyes, his cheeks completely red.

“so fuckin’ pathetic.” i laugh, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“stop- ‘m not! you said you wouldn’t la-laugh!” he whimpers, desperately tugging at his sensitive skin.

“why do you think i’d do what you want matt? you’ve been so bitchy all day.” i sigh,

“mm! i haven’t!” he protests,

i drag my thumb over his swollen tip, before instantly pulling my hand back.

a loud moan escapes his lips, “ah- ahh.. please do that again!”

i shake my head,

“i need to cum- s-so bad- but- but can’t!” his voice his so high it’s almost amusing, he is just so pathetic.

“mm? can’t cum without my help?” i ask, a teasing tone clear in my voice.

“i- i can! i- i-“ matt’s thighs trembles as he throws his head back.

“just- just say anything!- please- please oh fuck-“ he follows up, his hand reaching out and grabbing my thigh

he digs his fingertips into my thigh as his raw tip dribbles with precum, the clear liquid running down his tip onto his hand.

“anything?” i whisper,

“cum- cum!” he squeals, my one word tipping him over.

strings of white spurt out of him, landing directly on his tummy, which is rising and falling rapidly with his panting.

he stops his movements with his hand, which is now coated in his own release.

“there he is, so so good.” i coo, pressing a kiss to his tip.

a small gasp exits his mouth,

i kitten lick the head of his cock once more, his salty taste present on my tongue before pulling my head away. he groans from overstimulation as his fingers dig into the soft plush skin of my thigh

he’s fully hard again.

“please, please- i’m hard again- you’re gonna touch me this time?”

i shake my head with a small grin, running my hand through his silky hair.

“but-!” he starts but i cut him off.

“no buts, you’ve been such a brat all day,” i start,

“now cmon, pull up your sweats, you’re not cumming again today.” i instruct him, earning a frustrated whine from him as he follows my instructions.

-

@jayz4dayz4 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour r @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmelbaesunpostre @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise e @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle  @sturnsforlife @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos s @downbad4reid 

[almostfoxglove]

ALI FAKHSDJGKH okay it's taken me 100 years to reblog this but I WANTED TO QUOTE SO MANY PARTS IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO NARROW THEM DOWN. holy shit. this was??? EVERYTHING. like, this is the canon I needed - redemption for what could have been with Helena and fulfillment of every delusion I've ever had about this man. it felt so true to the world of the show and to javi I'm actually announcing this as Canon. sorry folks!! I don't make the rules!!

gonna pop some favorite bits under the cut :,) AH

“You switched your hair up today,” Javier notes one night, sipping his coffee and flicking off the ash of his cigarette, his eyes following the way your hair is pulled up loosely and framing your face, “looks good—good, I like it.”

lord help me I would not survive this I am NOT god's strongest warrior I am a puddle on the FLOOR this is him holding the secretary's finger and complimenting her nail polish all over again DSDKFHJK

“Are you really DEA?” You ask, his expression urging you to lower your volume as he takes a seat beside you, “Is that a lie?”

this is SO HEARTBREAKING ALI like what the FUCK oh my god. I feel like I can hear her and see her scared face and I'm going to cRY ABOUT IT

“I don’t think you want my opinion,” He answers vaguely, swiping the counter for his keys. “Just admit it,” You tease him with the words tossed over your shoulder as you grab for your jacket, “It’s fuckable.”

sdhkfjhaskjhgfa

“Mierda, your fucking hands—” He doesn’t even mean it in a sexual context, but the pressure you apply is perfect, pinpoint even, knuckles rolling against the base of his neck as his mouth opens, an embarrassing sound slipping beyond his lips as you chuckle softly, watching as he lifted his head in shame, “okay—okay, you’re done.”

OHHHHH, to take javier pena apart with a massage!! HOW I YEAAARRRN

“Yeah, pretty difficult,” You jest at his expense, his smile lines creasing as he grinned slightly, “I have this asshole in my apartment—annoyingly cocky, hates massages. God, the worst—”

I love them so much. she's so charming and brings out the CRINKLY EYES and I would die for them both ok ANY DAY ANY TIME

“Not much longer, chiquita,” Javier reminds, seeming to hear your discomfort immediately.

this is so !!!!! JAVI. saying it without saying it, ya know? that he sees her. I'm gonna cry brb

“Where did he touch you?” Javier asks casually, eyes closed as he pressed gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh, pushing your shirt up higher as you guided his hand over your hip and down toward your ass and squeezing gently. “There,” You admit before guiding his hand further up, alongside your ribs and around your back, another gentle squeeze before guiding his hand around and over your breasts, “and there—here,”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Javier promises, suddenly closer than you’ve ever known him to allow himself outside of sex, his finger drags along your chin and forces it up, looking at him, “¿Entiendes?”

MY HEART POUNDED SO HARD AT THIS PART I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND

It’s just sex, you can hear the words before they roll off his tongue, ignoring your second question entirely. Tell me where he touched you.

*screams heard in the distance* *more wailing* *barking* *hollering*

“Baby, we have to go,” Javier urges, “I have to get you out.”

THE URGENT IN THE MOMENT NOT THINKING "BABY"??? MY PERSONAL KRYPTONITE?? ALI THIS WAS AN ATTEMPT ON MY LIFE

“It was a tracker,” You mumble eventually, “when he was feeling me up that night—it was because he was trying—well, he—he did, he put a—”

oh my god the pain of this realization fucking SLAPPED ME I just!! was there!! feeling her fear!! my chest is so TIGHT the angst is so GOOD

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” It wasn’t a cry for help this time, but still a phrase that was special. A code, a message. A lifeline.

this was such a perfect ending. hopeful and soft but also still so javi!! and I'm obsessed with it. I've read this three times, oops. AND WILL DO IT AGAIN <3 all the ways you wove in the moodboard (THEIR LITTLE CODE PHRASE AHHHHH) are so fucking perfect and seamless. ugh. so good. thank you soso much for joining the challenge and sharing this fucking masterpiece with us, WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED. you are a talent and a gem and I adore you <3

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 | Javier Pena x reader

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summary | Javier's a creature of habit, a man of opportunity, and you were unlucky enough to find him when he's at his most desperate.

author's note | written for @almostfoxglove angst challenge, i really hope i did this moodboard justice ghjfkd. thank you @amanitacowboy for reassuring me while writing this behemoth + translations are at the end.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, informant!reader, set through beginning of season 3 narcos to end, angst, smut, involvement with the cali cartel, paying for info and sex, javier's a gentleman i swear, gratuitous smut, jealous!javi, protected/unprotected piv, creampies, oral (f receiving), some vague violence toward the end, happy ending

word count — 10k

The new influx of customers has been an adjustment, used to the elder regulars with orders that never changed and people who were grabbing a bite after a late night shift, it left you flustered as you reached for the pen and paper shoved into your apron, smoothing out the cloth as you approach the group of men, carrying on their conversation without a care.

“El envío llega el domingo,” It was Friday, which meant whatever was coming in would be here in a couple days—they never said what, but it was always something.

And their eyes always eat you up, hair pulled back loosely as you greet them with a smile, taking down their order as they keep their sights locked on you and commenting on the swing of your hips and the curve of your ass as you depart. 

Like rabid dogs, feral and hungry.

You’ve learned to catalog their conversation, catching onto a regular pattern of when things were coming in and out, knowing that whatever nefarious business they are involved in couldn’t be good—but they tipped well and that wasn’t lost on you.

It was almost a month of daily interaction when a new customer pops in, nearing midnight as he settles into his booth quietly, thin button-up stretching over his shoulders as he removed his jacket and tossed it into the space beside him, yellow tinted sunglasses tucked into his shirt, catching the ashtray with a single finger and lighting the cigarette already settled between his lips.

You attempt to greet him, lips parting before he interrupts you, barely acknowledging your presence as he spits out the order for a coffee, black. Dickhead, you think. The pen and paper is shoved away in your pocket and you swing your hips around the counter to fulfill his order with a side of spitefulness.

When you approached again, it was with a nauseatingly sweet smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask, catching his eyes briefly as they flicker up before he shakes his head, a roar of laughter and slaps coming from the booth a few feet away, perking your eyes up at the subtle information they were sharing, scooting out of the both as they slapped a bill on the table, passing by with a vicious smirk that had your blood running cold, the graze of fingertips brushing against your ass that had you biting down on the inside of your cheek to steady yourself, nearly falling into the table as they pushed by.

The stranger perks up at that, his eyes trailing over your body with the same robotic motion as them, but with an air of curiosity, like he was examining you and your reaction. 

“No—no, just the coffee,” He assures you, both of you watch as the group of men climb into their shared truck, “those your regulars?”

“Unfortunately,” You let slip without thinking, “I’m sure their boss would hate to hear how loud they talk about all transfers and shipments—can’t imagine it’s anything good.”

His eyes drag to your breasts, more pointedly toward the nametag pinned in your shirt. 

He speaks your name before introducing himself, “Javier,” He addresses, turning to dig into his jacket before he pulls out a leather wallet, opening it to flash off his credentials, “DEA.”

“Oh–I’m…I’m not…involved with them, if that’s what you think…” You don’t know why the revelation has your nerves shot, but the fingers that wrap around your wrist ground you.

Javier has spent weeks—not a single lead or piece of evidence to follow. You were his saving grace, a goddamn miracle. He tugs lightly, pulling your attention to him.

“How often do they come in here?”

“Uh,” You blink rapidly, trying to think, “Um—three or four times a week, usually every other day.”

He speaks your name gently, his demeanor changing as he releases his hold on your wrist before he motions for you to sit, looking around briefly to assess how busy the restaurant was.

At this hour, it was only you and him.

You slide into the booth and place your palms against the table, fiddling nervously with your fingers, watching as he puffed at the cigarette a few times before placing it in the ashtray, followed by a generous sip of his coffee. 

“Everything they’ve told you,” Javier begins, pointing his finger vaguely in your direction before he points down, fingertip pressing against the table, “tell me—not a detail spared.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your mouth opens, tongue dragging against your bottom lip as you try to access the memory stored in the back of your brain before you remember the small, mostly indecipherable notes you had been taking.

You rip the wrinkled paper from your notepad and pass it over, his brow furrowing as he attempts to decipher the information and to your surprise, he does.

Unknowingly, you had captured a loose schedule they seemed to follow when they shipped things in and out, the day trading off as weeks passed, constantly changing to throw off suspicion, but eventually things overlapped and repeated.

Quietly, Javier pulls his wallet from his pocket and tosses over a wad of bills in your direction.

You stare at it blankly, eyes dragging up to his face as he nods toward the money.

“Should cover the coffee—and a tip.”

You reach for the money, pulling it apart to count, suspicious of the amount.

Prying the bills apart you count, eyes widening as the number rises.

“Sir—uh, Javier. This is…too much.”

“Not for the information,” He clarifies, peering cautiously over his shoulder, “If I come back every week can you promise more?”

You scoff lightly, pocketing the money regardless, “I can’t promise anything—besides, it’s always the same stuff. Just when things are coming and going, nothing more.”

“Can you get more?” Javier asks curiously, an eyebrow raising as he taps the ash off the cigarette and brings it to his lips, “Like, names—anything?”

“I can try, but—”

“I’ll pay.”

Unfortunately, waitressing was a shitty job.

And you were more than willing to allow Javier to turn you into his little informant.

You nod quietly.

-

His order changes depending on his mood.

He never orders food, usually coffee or whiskey.

Nothing less, nothing more.

And you do dig deeper, giving in to the absurd attempts at flirting and playing it up, allowing the occasional touches that make your skin crawl, returning them with fervor. Luckily, you had a strong stomach and handled it with ease, catching the names of the four that frequented the restaurant often, curiously asking about work and life, giving them vague or fake answers for your own when they pried.

“Three are single,” You tell Javier as you slide him a glass of whiskey neat, “desperately.”

Surprisingly, he chuckles at that. You’ve never heard it before.

It’s a nice sound.

“One is married, two kids.” 

You pass him a piece of paper with names and information, trading off for the cash he transfers in return, pocketing it inconspicuously. He’s never there at the same time as them, so the weight on your shoulders is lifted, but the creeping feeling of being watched stays put.

“You switched your hair up today,” Javier notes one night, sipping his coffee and flicking off the ash of his cigarette, his eyes following the way your hair is pulled up loosely and framing your face, “looks good—good, I like it.”

“They like it down,” You retort with a forced smile as a customer passes by with a nod, “so—up it is.”

Conversation was always easy with Javier, his charisma oozes out without even trying. It was natural for him, casually taking your hand into his during a slow shift, examining the lack of jewelry.

“Could get you a fake one, if it would help,” Javier suggests.

Unless you already had one, of course. His eyes flick up in a silent question.

“I don’t think it would matter,” You admit, “If they want something, they’re going to get it.”

The routine continues like this for a while, until eventually, it doesn’t.

A new group of men come in one Friday, the other, and another, throwing you off kilter.

They started rotating them, keeping you on edge as the information is becoming harder to obtain despite your attempts to dig and frustrations arise in Javier, but never with you.

Sometimes they don’t even speak at all, hushed tones at the table unless you’re needed—but, occasionally they get messy. It’s usually the younger guys, inexperienced, fresh-faced, eager to please the big boss but riding on an uncapped power high.

One of the men gets particularly ostentatious, always coming in on a drunken stupor and slurred words, eyeing you like a piece of meat that he was eager to sink his teeth into. He slips you his number more than once, ignores your polite attempts at a subject change when the rest of the men are hyping him up, and rarely takes your refusal into consideration. 

Eventually the fear that has built in you overflows, suspicion arising when you leave work a night after Javier had long departed, a night of very little information exchange outside of casual talk—and even that was forced, understanding how frustrated Javier had become. 

One of the men had stuck around, only a brief crossover as Javier had stepped into the restaurant, his eyes tracking you the entire way out before you’re pulled in by Javier’s voice ordering his drink of the night, squeezing his shoulder gently in response.

You should have known better, you should have spoken up.

Javier would’ve done something then, but instead, you convince yourself to forget about that uncomfortable feeling that crept in. You knew what would help, biding your time until Javier left for the night, ignoring how he seemed to eye you too, but with a glazed over expression of worry.

There was a car you barely noticed, swallowed up by shadows and turning on as you drove down the road when you finally clocked out, the minutes dragging before you pulled into the parking lot of the chapel you had sped towards with a weight on your chest and a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You couldn’t recall that last time you had visited, but you were desperate now more than ever.

You needed solace.

Prayer comes naturally, dedicated to begging for protection over yourself, allowing the silence of the space to consume you as soft footsteps of other patrons walked by, just raising your chin as a hand clasps over your shoulder, nearly falling to your ass as you turn to connect the owner of the hand to a body. 

“Javier?” You ask quizzically, “Did you follow me?”

“No?” He looks confused, answering with full honesty.

That twisting feeling in your gut sinks further, looking around briefly.

“I can provide protection,” Javier tells you, “if you need it.”

You stay quiet, chewing gently at your bottom lip, scanning the room for familiar faces.

“Something is wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it, back at the diner.”

There was only Javier, still mostly a stranger.

“Are you really DEA?” You ask, his expression urging you to lower your volume as he takes a seat beside you, “Is that a lie?”

“I spent a long time trying to take down Escobar, I find that kind of insulting, chiquita.”

He’s met with silence, understanding your need for reassurance. 

“Yes, I am,” He tells you, his gaze unwavering, “I should’ve offered a protection detail to you from the jump, but I figured me being around often enough would work—did someone follow you here?”

“I don’t know, I kinda lost sight of them.”

You fall silent, staring at a crease in the denim of his jeans as you speak. 

“Should I be worried?” You ask quietly, turning your body toward him, “Like—are they going to kill me?”

“They’re getting uneasy,” Javier responds vaguely, before assuring, “Not because of you.”

“I should…I should tell you,” You take a breath, “One of them invited me to a party, I have his number. I told him I would have to work some things out, but I never…”

“Was it this weekend?” Javier asks suddenly, the lines in his forehead creasing at the mention.

“Yeah—yeah, why—”

“Say yes,” Javier urges, “I’ll keep you safe.”

It was a big promise, but Javier’s pleading eyes worked like a spell.

“This is gonna cost, Javier.”

“Name your price, hermosa.”

–

Javier’s touch is white-hot, cigarette tucked between his lips as he brushes your hair behind your ear and presses the in-ear monitor inside, hiding it behind the gaudy jewelry attached to your ear and adjusts your hair back over, stepping back and raking his eyes over your frame casually, pinching the cigarette from his lips with his thumb and pointer finger as he blows the smoke out.

“It’s small enough they won’t notice but try and keep it covered,” He tells you, his free hand shoved into his front pocket as his presence fills your apartment, moving around sheepishly under his gaze, “I’ll be a few minutes away, if anything goes south I’ll get you out.”

You stumble slightly slipping on your heels, caught by his tight grip as he steadies you. 

“Sorry—I’m freaking out,” You admit, looking away nervously as his grip loosens but doesn’t leave, firm around your bicep as you sleep your other foot inside the hell, “Th—thank you.”

“You smoke?” Javier asks causally as you stand.

“Not really,” You respond, “Occasionally, I guess. It’s probably more social, if I’m being honest.”

He plucks the cigarette from his mouth and offers it to you, placing it between your lips as you take a small puff without thinking or being told, an effective way to calm your nerves as you focused on the action as he points toward the cigarette, “Don’t drink or smoke anything they give you tonight,” Javier warns, “communication works both ways, I need you coherent.”

He pulls the cigarette away and places it between his own lips again.

The nicotine stings your throat and chest, giving you a noticeable distraction that calms your mind. “How do I look?” You force a tight smile, twirling on your feet as the dress clung to your curves, a soft, velvet red, “Fuckable, I hope. Otherwise I’m not getting anything out of them.”

Javier snorts at that, brow creasing at your crudeness.

“I don’t think you want my opinion,” He answers vaguely, swiping the counter for his keys.

“Just admit it,” You tease him with the words tossed over your shoulder as you grab for your jacket, “It’s fuckable.”

“Yeah, sure,” He mumbles around the cigarette between his lips, “fuckable.”

The way the word rolls of his tongue is visceral, ignoring the pulse between your legs at the vibrato in his voice and the chuckle that follows—regardless, it helped ease your nerves. 

–

It’s loud, sweaty, and overwhelming.

You thought they would choose something less…obvious.

But, it was becoming more and more clear how much of the town was under the Cali Cartel’s payroll, learning more and more information as Javier shared it with you in bits and pieces, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The idea was to mingle, drifting far enough away from your date that you might happen upon one of Javier’s more meaningful targets, not going as far as to infiltrate the heads, but someone damaging if you sunk your teeth in. 

You quickly come upon the realization that most of the men are confusing you with entertainment, rather than being a guest, quickly side-stepping the hands that reach for you as you squeeze your way toward the bar, sliding into an empty seat with a breath of relief.

“They are animals,” The voice beside you speaks—belonging to a man who was scientifically handsome; oddly perfect, hair perfectly coiffed and mused into place, a perfect set of teeth hidden behind plush lips and piercing green eyes—you had memorized the face in the picture Javier had shown you, “¿Cómo te va? ¿Lo estás pasando bien?”

You almost forget he’s talking to you for a moment, staring up at him distractedly before Javier’s voice speaks softly in your ear, “Answer him, chiquita. He’ll get suspicious.”

“Oh, yes,” You answer quickly, moving in closer to converse over the roar of music and the heavy buzz of strobe lights flashing overhead, “I seem to have lost my date, though.”

“Don’t worry,” He smirks, “I will keep you company.”

It does take a few drinks and you nursing your own, but you play into the act of being a mere accessory on the mysterious man’s arm, allowing him to drag you around the club with no real path to follow, eventually ending up with a smaller group of men huddled away in a corner, standing dutiful and quiet as the men talk amongst themselves in obscure words, almost like a code. 

“I can’t—I can’t hear them,” Javier’s speech is garbled, drown out by the music as you squint at the pain of the feedback in your ear, “can’t—hurry—”

Eventually, you find an opening to excuse yourself.

“Hermosa,” The voice freezes you in place, but the touch is gentle, surprisingly, “I would like to see you again, outside of here—”

You quickly ramble off the name of the diner, attempting to pull away, but not before a kiss is pressed against the front of your hand, feeling the heat burn through your skin like a brand before you’re slipping through the crowd, unable to take a deep breath until you’re outside.

You walk the distance to where Javier had parked originally, finding him buried deep in a conversation with someone who had pulled up in another car, hands curled around the driver’s side window, his head turning as he heard the distinct click of your heels.

“Fuck,” He curses, approaching you with his hands hovering around you—not touch or prodding, almost hesitant to cross that boundary unless it was absolutely needed, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You answer confused, nose scrunching up as you peered around him at the unknown agent, his window rolling up before he drove off, “what’s that about?”

“We think someone might have jammed the comms—there’s no way to know, it could have been the club itself, one of the agents is going to look into it—”

“Can you drive me home?” You interrupt suddenly, rubbing at the spot on your hand that the man had kissed, feeling dirty, “I’m full up on being felt up tonight and I want to change.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javier replies after a moment of hesitation, “let’s go.”

You rip the device from your ear the moment the passenger door closes.

–

Javier places your heels against the floor as you walk barefoot into your apartment, a simple but kind gesture as your belongings scattered against your kitchen counter, fingers dragging through the front of your hair and back as you smeared your makeup in the process.

“Oh, the uh—the code,” You remember suddenly, “something about a bridge, as the sun rises…something with water. The guy, the picture you showed me. He approached the four you told me were important. I don’t think they liked me being there, but I also think they assumed I was too ignorant to remember a few words.”

Javier pauses, hands digging into his hips as he paces near your door.

“Do you want a beer?” You ask curiously, the furrow in his brow sinking deep as he attempts to decipher the code, he nods silently.

You figured with the information bestowed he would leave, but instead he stays, sipping at his beer for over an hour as you watch him move, his brain working things out in real time.

He’s beside you know, hands pressed into the counter as he pushed his body away, staring down at his feet as he repeated the words aloud, but quietly, like a murmur. 

“Are you sure they aren’t distributing right under your nose?”

Javier’s head tilts to the side as he looks at you, confused by your analogy.

You stare out your window for a moment, curtains pushed open, the gray luminescence of the moon illuminating the inky night sky, “I mean, they’re obviously paying people off, always partying at clubs—wait, the bridge and water,” A thought pops into your head, grabbing Javier by the hand before you’re pulling him to your apartment window, “what if they’re meeting on boats? I mean, not to say that’s how it’s getting it in, but—”

“That…makes sense,” Javier says, void of any distinct emotion as he takes a long chug of his beer before placing it on the ledge of the window, rubbing at the shoulder of his opposite arm.

“Annoyed you didn’t think about it first?” You tease, turning to tilt your head at him like he had earlier.

“Hadn’t gotten that far yet, we’re still trying to put the pieces together,” He grimaces at the tightened muscles, rolling his neck as his hands settle back against his hips, “that’ll help, though.”

“Sit down,” You urge him, pointing toward your couch and Javier looks at you with dull amusement before you’re urging him again with your insistent finger, eventually he relents.

Immediately, you round the back of the couch and allow your fingers to dig into his shoulder, working out the soreness with deft fingers, “Shit—you don’t have to,” Javier begins to protest before your hand is curling around the back of his head and pushing it forward, molding him to how you needed him positioned as your fingers dig in deep, “that’s, fuck, that’s…shit, right there.”

His voice is pure erotica, but it makes your lips curl in amusement. It was that pathetic desperation you heard so often from the men you served daily—that slight pitch to their tone as they tried to grab your attention, but with Javier, he’s completely detached.

His hands were tucked between his legs, head resting forward as you dug in with a strong, pointed touch, his groan reverberating down his spine. 

“Mierda, your fucking hands—” He doesn’t even mean it in a sexual context, but the pressure you apply is perfect, pinpoint even, knuckles rolling against the base of his neck as his mouth opens, an embarrassing sound slipping beyond his lips as you chuckle softly, watching as he lifted his head in shame, “okay—okay, you’re done.”

“Oh, come on,” You tease, “I was just getting started.”

Javier shakes his head and stifles the laughter in his chest, resting against your couch as his hands circle the beer in his grasp, looking up at your face, tilted down toward his own as your fingers curl around the back of the couch, straps slipping down your shoulders in your relaxed state.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Javier checks, given you’ve had a proper amount of time to wind down from the adrenaline of being inside the club surrounded by dealers and potential kingpins.

He’s worried. He barely knows you and he’s still worried.

“It’s a rush,” You admit candidly, “But, I’m pretty resilient, Javier. Work is work. I’ve dealt with worse assholes on the job, I’m good at putting on a face when I need to.”

“What about now?” Javier asks curiously, eyes exploring your morphing expression of amusement to bashfulness, the way he’s staring at you outright, words unspoken.

“Yeah, pretty difficult,” You jest at his expense, his smile lines creasing as he grinned slightly, “I have this asshole in my apartment—annoyingly cocky, hates massages. God, the worst—”

He doesn’t like the way this job winds him up, the tension taught in his spine and unrelenting, staring up at you with a tinge of a buzz from the alcohol and the sight of your sloping breasts spilling out of your dress.

He’s used to driving miles and miles for peace of mind and a nice body to sink into, but you’re here, you’re smiling at him and he’d be damned to refuse the opportunity you’re presenting to him, leaning down as his hand comes up without thinking, twisting in your hair as his head turns to meet yours at the same angle, placing his beer down in the same instance.

“The fucking worst,” He echoes, his hands crawling up the edge of your dress as you climb over the couch with his guidance, speaking through rushed exchanges of lips, his hot, beer-tainted breath against your skin as he situates the dress up at your hips, straddling him without a second thought, “you were right about the dress—”

“Fuckable,” You both agree in unison, sighing audibly at the kiss he places to your chin, neck, shoving his face between the valley of your breasts as you work silently at his jeans, the clang of his buckle, metal against metal as you loosen it enough to free his straining cock, his breath catching as you wrap your fingers around the velvety skin of his shaft.

“M-My wallet,” He chokes out, muffled as your tongue dips into his mouth, stop briefly to savor the touch as his hands cups your face, eventually drifting into your hair in a similar manner to earlier but then he’s tugging, “got—got a condom.”

“Of course you do,” You snort in merriment, “is that—is that what we’re doing?”

Javier nods eagerly, never separating more than a millimeter from your lips as you stare at him, his eyes staring right back, searching your expression for any minute twitch of deception.

When Javier fits himself inside of you it is with a broken grunt, a curse under his breath, and a hand squeezing tight at your hip, fingers digging into the bunched up cloth as he wraps his opposite arm around your back, pulling you toward him with a sharp snap of his hips.

You gasp, falling over the back of the couch as your hands grasped at the surface in desperation, the start of a quick but all consuming pace of his hips, his lips mouthing at your skin; arms, fingers, even over your ribs, biting gently through the velvety fabric of your dress, stifling his shaky moans, attempting to avoid the glaringly obvious fact that he hasn’t been able to release his stress like this in weeks.

A willing participant, a body, convenience. 

Deep down, you know. 

But, you found yourself in the same mix of issues.

Regardless, you both ignore it.

–

Javier is gone by morning—or, what is left of it. 

The exhaustion of the night and the sex catching up to you, coming undone on his cock as he gripped your ass, feeling the bruises he’d left in the process and remembering the soft, filthy words of encouragement he had whispered against your skin as you came.

He even locked your apartment and slipped the key under the crack in the door, stumbling toward the glinting gold piece on the ground and the folded up note on the ground, eyebrow creasing at the sight as you kneel to the ground, adjusting your dress hastily. You squint to read the hastily written note.

Got a lead. Money is for last night.

You peel the paper open and spot the money inside, eyes widening as you slowly realize that this was far more than he’s given you before, nearly double the first time, slowly you fold the paper back over and check the back, inspecting the item as a whole before you notice the writing on the back.

We should do it again sometime, chiquita. 

You look up at the door slowly, at the cash, before peering over your shoulder at the couch, still indented with sleep and a blanket strewn carelessly over the cushions.

He paid you for sex. He’d made it transactional. 

There’s a brief moment where you’re stricken with offense, half the mind to track him down and chew him out, but you remember how your exchange started and ultimately how it would end.

Plus, it was half your rent paid for from the result of the type of sex you haven’t allowed yourself to have in far too long, disconnected from feeling and fully freeing. 

Besides, it must be a regular thing for Javier and you couldn’t even blame him.

He was only doing his job.

–

A protection detail does work for a brief time, at least, it eases some of your worry.

It was a younger agent, Javier had told you, little to no responsibility outside of keeping his eyes on you and reporting back when necessary. As some of the leads start to blossom, Javier appears less and less, but still follows through on his payments when you have information to exchange, even if it’s only a name or time of day for something.

You do find the boldness to ask him about the money he’d forked over for sex, flowing lightly into conversation as he gives you a recount of his time with Escobar after a night of curiosity and lacking customers drags you into the booth beside him.

Always taking careful note of any personal tidbits he would offer. You knew he wasn’t married or that, at the very least, he was an expert at hiding it. No kids, no spouse, no baggage.

“Is it hush money?” You ask bravely, counting through your tips for the night as he sips gingerly at the glass half full of whiskey, “Because if so, I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyways.”

His brow creases, confused for a brief second before you mouth the words.

My couch, the sex.

“Didn’t want things getting confusing,” Javier admits, “If it’s any consolation, the sex was good.”

“You’re too complicated for me anyways,” You snort softly, separating the bills accordingly as you glance over at him briefly, a soft hum in his throat as his lips wrap around the edge of his glass as he downs the rest of the liquor, “Was it a one time thing?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Javier admits, “figured I should draw the line early—you aren’t offended are you? Because if you need me to remind you how good it—”

As you finish, dragging the money into one pile, you shrug, “I’m off in thirty.”

The sway of your hips as you exit the booth and head toward the back of the restaurant is enough to have Javier suffering half-hard in his jeans, legs widening as he inconspicuously rubs his palm over the denim to adjust himself, awaiting the small nod of your head around the corner that comes half an hour later. 

–

Javier is efficient, you learn.

What first starts off as a casual trade turns into pure, unrestrained stress relief. 

It bleeds into work for both of you, finding time to drag him off into the back office when you knew it was available, fucking over the desk with any empty kitchen and diner as the hours waned into the early morning and everyone was either on break or asleep.

You never offer up much about yourself, very little about your life before moving to Colombia or why you’ve stuck around for so long—but he does know you’re disconnected from your family almost entirely, completely alone.

He has a huge family back in Laredo, people that clearly care about him, catching him on the phone with his father one night as they bickered lightheartedly, something about Javier needing to find time to vacation sooner rather than later.

When you have sex at your apartment, he always smokes afterwards, whether in your bed or by the open window in your living room, always careful about the barrier of clothing that remains, never entirely naked in front of one another.

He doesn’t look at you either, won’t kiss you further than something quick—a wet, sloppy exchange of tongues as he fucks into you from behind, pulled back tight to his chest as his hand strains and squeezes around your neck to turn your head toward him.

And he never stays, doesn’t stay hung up on goodbyes. 

He waits until you’re asleep, places the money at your bedside, and leaves.

But, there is a moment when you hear the tone in his voice switch, almost offended.

You’re both naked from the waist down and he’s thrusting into you lazily as his lips latch onto the section where your neck meets your shoulder, recounting the details that you’ve learned today, easily killing two birds with one stone.

He mentioned something earlier that night about a bust gone wrong, chewing frustratedly at his bottom lip as he spoke more with his eyes than his words before you had dragged him toward the back.

“Benny offered to take me on a date,” You address lightly, voice hitched as Javier used his palm against the inside of your thigh to spread it wider before it curls around the back of your knee and pulls up high over his lip, “he bought me an outfit and everything.”

He racks through the catalog of names in his brain.

Benny. Benny…Benito?

He wasn’t aware he’d spoked the name out loud until you’re responding with a soft acknowledgement as the desk bangs against the wall, your hand flattening out behind you for support, “Yes—same thing. I’m sure it’s for the—”

“The gala, yeah.”

He had spent the past few weeks trying to approach a way to get inside, knowing that this would be an opportunity to track the ever-expanding tree of sellers and suppliers, a front for the obvious drug trade that was happening, as you phrased it, right under his nose. 

The boat lead had only gotten them so far, knowing that there was much more nefarious shit going on that he was grasping at straws to collect off of, using you as his main source of information.

He knows it’s dangerous, but damn were you good at it.

“When did that c—come up?” Javier asks, grunting into your neck as his orgasm creeped in, his fingers drifting expertly over your clit as they had a dozen times before.

“Couple weeks ago,” You reply casually, both you falling into your eventual orgasms and only hearing him speak as he’s already disposed of his condom and was buttoning his jeans up.

“When were you gonna tell me that?”

It feels like a heavy weight on your chest, the clear betrayal in his voice coming from absolutely nowhere, immediately forcing you into defense mode as you sneer at him, adjusting your top back into your jeans as you tie your apron around your waist.

“I’m telling you now,” You retort, “I wasn’t even sure he dropped the clothes off here yesterday.”

It couldn’t have been that crucial of a detail, given that the gala wasn’t happening for another week according to the information that had been figured out.

Javier looks stiff suddenly, shoving his wallet into his back pocket before your hand is twisting around his bicep and shoving him back until he faces you.

“Is there something you need to say?” Your eyebrows raise slightly, expectant of the harsh words that were bound to be slung your way.

“I’m paying for information—honesty, too.”

“Yeah, well, you’re also paying to have sex with me.”

Javier isn’t sure why he feels it—it isn’t jealousy, necessarily. Just betrayal, that over the last few months you didn’t feel comfortable enough to share the information with him immediately, weary of the temptations of the cartel and the idea that they could pull you in, flip you against him.

He worries for your safety and well-being, knowing that he would be the one living with that guilt if anything happened to you. You were a friend at the very least, something few and far between for Javier after Steve had left. If he wasn’t at work or his own apartment, he was with you.

Javier forces a breath through his nose and huffs, eyes flicking toward you intensely. 

“It’s important to know this shit, so we can prepare.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, alright? It’s not like I’m keeping secrets. I’m sure you could do your research on me if you wanted, if you haven’t already. I have nothing to hide and nothing to gain, Javier.”

His shoulders relax slightly, widening as he puffs his chest out and takes a breath, “Yeah, but they have plenty to gain from you—we have to stay ahead.”

Always one step ahead.

–

The gala comes and goes without much preamble—and you know you’re serving as mostly arm candy, dressed scantily as you hand on the arm of a man you barely know, paraded around as a prize he’s won and showing off to his friends, but he’s surprisingly respectful.

Or, biding his time. You couldn’t tell. 

You don’t force off his small advances, a gentle touch or something too close for comfort as he lips pressing against the shell of your ear, whispering something you don’t pay much attention to as you survey the event, spotting a flurry of faces familiar and unfamiliar, picking up on names and information as it arises.

Javier could still hear everything on his end with the small, nearly invisible communication device shoved into your ear, hidden underneath your hair similar to last time, careful of which side you allowed Benny on.

“My boss is sending us on vacation soon,” You didn’t pay much attention, but Javier was, “could be fun, if you wanted to go—I could talk to him, he’d like you.”

Perfect. Useful. You can already hear the words that would float around if the opportunity arises. You prayed it would never get that far.

“Change the subject,” Javier says tensely, knowing you were traversing into dangerous territory.

“I’m sure your boss won’t mind, I’ll talk to him, too,” You can feel the smirk over your shoulder before you turn, wondering if he had ever met the owner of the diner or he was purely assuming, regardless, you laugh it off quietly.

“I have to stick around and keep things going, they wouldn’t survive without me,” You switch gears easily, “I don’t see you often, just your friends—why don’t you come around more?”

He’s only appeared a couple times and both were brief, first to ask you to the gala and then to give you the dress, almost like he’d rather avoid the place entirely. You were careful of giving him any personal information outside of where you worked, knowing that it wasn’t already accessible information.

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t think it’s about what I want, is it?” You retort playfully, a smirk growing on his face as his thumb slides over your chin, careful how deep of a jab you make, “It’s up to you.”

Benito’s hand rubs over the back of your dress and down, fingers modeling against the loose wrinkles in the fabric as he moves over the curve of your ass and squeezes, a small squeak escaping your lips as you bite down at the inside of your cheek, ignoring the knee-jerk reaction to elbow him in the stomach.

“Not much longer, chiquita,” Javier reminds, seeming to hear your discomfort immediately. 

The next hour drags painstakingly slowly, but eventually Benito drops you off at the diner at your insistent request, despite his pressuring you to invite him back to your apartment.

When you step into the threshold of your living room, Javier is already opening up the dinner had ordered at your subtle request earlier that evening, a smug smile on his face as you shake your head in exhaustion, sleeping over you hills in and instant and half-way stripping out of your dress before you even make it to your bedroom.

Javier grins in amusement as you thrust the device that you rip out of your ear into his chest, quietly tucking it away on the table as he prepares the food.

You’re dressed for comfort when you return, a shirt reaching beyond your thighs as you settle the bare skin against the barstool, underwear peeking out as you sit, immediately shoveling the food into your mouth.

You ramble out the names you caught onto, watching as Javier scribbled them down, rubbing at your temples to soothe the growing headache as you finish up your food and shove it aside, eventually slumping against the counter as you groan weakly.

You can feel Javier’s hand graze your knee, squeezing gently at your thigh, a silent invitation.

“I’m so tired, Javi,” You admit, “You can keep your cash, don’t worry. The whole thing was a bust, anyways.”

The chair creaks as Javier leans toward you, whispering against your ear, “Ven aqui,” He beckons as he pulls at your arm, guiding you silently to your room, half-expecting him to tuck you into bed and leave, but then he’s guiding you backwards toward the mattress and spreading out between your legs on the duvet as he removes your underwear, your lips forming into a subtle pout until he’s splitting you open with his tongue, a gasp escaping at the sudden sensation, fingers twisting into his hair roughly.

“Javi, what are you doing?” You inquire—it was new, a careful line drawn between you both earlier on that it was strictly sex, disconnection, but now he was trying to leave the impression of his tongue against your cunt as he devoured you all at once, squeezing at your thighs to spread them open further, a sated expression on his face that had to be a mix of his own exhaustion, delirious with want.

“Where did he touch you?” Javier asks casually, eyes closed as he pressed gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh, pushing your shirt up higher as you guided his hand over your hip and down toward your ass and squeezing gently.

“There,” You admit before guiding his hand further up, alongside your ribs and around your back, another gentle squeeze before guiding his hand around and over your breasts, “and there—here,” You squeeze down tightly as your eyes fall shut, his mouth sucking over your clit as your back arches off the bed.

You come faster than you expect and had you known his mouth was so talented, you would have suggested this earlier, but through the waning of your orgasm you feel his tongue drifting over your skin in the wake of his previous touches, lapping at the salty skin before his tongue eventually finds the way toward your breast, swirling around the sensitive skin as your nipple hardens against his mouth, innately curious of his actions but not voicing them.

There was never any predicting with Javier, figuring that maybe he needed a little more distraction tonight, but as your orgasm dissipates and the hand in his hair stays, he never moves, only a low rumble to his breathing as you attempt to catch your own breath before you’re slowly leaning up and realizing his eyes were shut and he had fallen asleep.

Whatever was ailing him had finally taken hold, able to squirm away through his heavy sleep before you’re draping a blanket over his frame, still dressed from the day.

You can’t find the courage inside yourself to disturb him as he took up half of your bed, opting for the couch in the off-chance he woke up in the middle of the night to you beside him, stirring up another list of issues you didn’t feel like dealing with.

–

Surprisingly, you wake before him. The sky barely fading out of night as you stir, rising from the couch as the bulky phone on the counter—it was Javier’s, you knew that.

But still, you answer it. It couldn’t hurt, just tell them to leave a message.

Instead, as you hear the familiar voice on the other end, you find yourself pulled into an unsuspecting conversation with his father that drags into the morning hours as the sun rises, meandering over breakfast before you here him stirring in the other room, trying to ignore how pleasant but telling the conversation with Javier’s father was as you place the phone down on the counter and begin cooking breakfast, silently, still half-dressed in the clothes from the night prior, minus your underwear strewn somewhere on your bedroom floor.

He’d asked how Javier was doing when you told him your name, surprised that he was familiar with you, learning that Javier had spoken about you to him, though briefly.

Probably in passing, maybe. You try not to dwell on it.

“He seems fine,” You told him, “Busy, though.”

He’s always busy, he tells you. Cuidar a mi hijo.

He was worried, rightfully so. But, Javier was an adult, his own person. 

He wasn’t your responsibility and you weren’t his.

And you try to ignore the strange sensation in your chest at the immediate elation from his father hearing your name, like an old family friend hearing from you for the first time in years, even though you knew very little of his father.

You’ve learned enough about Javier, at least. His likes and dislikes, vague interests that he commented on, the grimace in his face that would grow deeper the harder he got stuck on something, a thought or idea.

Javier clears his throat as he enters the kitchen, avoiding your gaze as you slide the meat and eggs onto two separate plates before passing it to him.

“You could have woke me up,” He said, looking up at you briefly with mused hair, his shirt wrinkled from sleep.

“Your father called,” You ignored his comment, “you should call him back.”

“You talked to him?” Javier asks blankly, no distinct emotion shining through.

“For, like, half a second,” You lie, “I just told him you were asleep.”

He didn’t need to know his father’s worry or how much he’d given away about what he knew of you, secrets that were obviously meant to be kept between them, but as Javier chews with thought, eager to break the lingering silence, he asks.

“He mentioned it, didn’t he?”

You shrug your shoulders cluelessly, “I think you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“That I’ve talked about you, or at least, he knows who you are.”

“It’s none of my business, really.”

“He hears you, at the diner—he’s nosey. I’ve mentioned you in passing. I just…I know how he gets, I don’t want you thinking anything is going on,”

“I’m not paid to think, Javier,” You tell him.

It’s disparaging, his nose scrunching up slightly at your words and the emptiness with which you throw them. This is where he always seemed to fuck up, distinguishing work from his life but somehow maintaining the balance of peace and humanity.

Do you want to explain last night? You mind screamed, but instead you offer him his coffee, the usual black with minimal or no sugar, giving him the option as you slide the mug and container in his direction. He fishes blindly for his wallet but your hand stops him.

You sigh, “That’s not—I wasn’t implying you need to now. I—I just think we should maybe reframe what we’re doing, given that things have…progressed,” The word lingers on your tongue while you bite at your bottom lip. “I’m worried they might find out where I live or about you—or the fact that I’m literally helping the DEA catch them and praying can only do so much and I’m here alone—”

“Hermosa, slow down,” Javier urges, shoving his wallet back into his pocket at your guidance and avoiding the obvious domesticity of having slept overnight in your apartment and ate the breakfast you cooked him. 

It was in his nature to care, to a degree. It was his downfall sometimes, to a devastating fault. He striked while you were vulnerable and roped you into his own mess, now paying for it with guilt that had seeped into his personal life, spending the entire night prior picturing how Benito was handling you, how he could step in—how it could have been him instead.

“She doesn’t sound like work,” His father had told him a week ago, returning a flirtatious quip as you had passed him his usual coffee and offered him a light for his cigarette after his hadn’t worked, that sort of boyish tone in his voice that his father picked up on in a second.

The lines had blurred with Helena after a while, a similar circumstance that he continued to find himself in—paying for info, paying for sex, attempting to make it impersonal. But, here you were, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, and he didn’t know how to fix the mess he had made. 

He couldn’t see you hurt or send you into danger like he had with Helena, the helpness he’d felt as he discovered her near lifeless body, covered in blood and bruises after she had been beaten and traded around—it couldn’t happen, it wouldn’t.

–

Javier returns with a phone later that day, similar to his with his number attached to a piece of paper he shoves into your hand as he directs you to pack a bag in the case of an actual emergency, something quick to grab that you wouldn’t have to second guess about. 

“You’re making it seem like I should be leaving now,” You tell him, taking the items he passes into your hand as you fold a stack of clothes and toiletries into the bag.

Javier shakes his head, “It’s better be safe,” He explains, “I…doubt—I don’t think they would be. We have someone listening around the clock, people on the inside, there haven't been any red flags.”

“What if something does? What if I can’t reach you?”

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” He tells you simply, your face contorting in confusion. “It’s a code—a phrase only you and I know. If you use that, it means danger. Through a note, or that phone. I just have to hear it.”

You zip the bag up in silence, feeling the weight of the web you had tangled yourself in finally settling, curious if you would be back at square one, fleeing to a different country to escape your problems.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Javier promises, suddenly closer than you’ve ever known him to allow himself outside of sex, his finger drags along your chin and forces it up, looking at him, “¿Entiendes?”

You nod, a subtle motion but Javier sees it.

“Javier, we should talk,” You echo once more, though with different meaning, “about last night.”

“I’ll still pay, hermosa—that isn’t a problem.”

You could handle the way it was eating at you.

“No, I mean—I mean why did last night happen? Why is your dad telling me to keep you safe?”

His face hardens at the mention of his father.

It’s just sex, you can hear the words before they roll off his tongue, ignoring your second question entirely.

Tell me where he touched you.

“You started this, you know?” You remind him, “You made this transactional.”

Was he scared of you?

Eerily silent he remains, you speak for him.

“I’m not a whore either, so if that is how you view me—I really don’t want your help at all.”

The keys in hand are gripped tight as you chance a glance toward the floor, his body entirely unmoving, his eyes downturned and staring in a similar direction, almost like he couldn’t find the words.

I”m not asking you to give a shit about me, but—”

His answer is a kiss, searing and intense, keys tossed to your bed as his fingers dive into your hair, curling around your head as you make a sound of surprise, steadying yourself as you grip his biceps and stumble backwards, tripping over the dress you had stripped yourself of last night.

You still hadn’t dressed from earlier, his hands flattening against your hips as he molds the soft flesh under his grip, his teething biting into your bottom lip as he murmurs, “Belt, get my belt,” without question, your fingers go to work, ripping the leather away in a practiced motion as you continue to unbutton his jeans, “—think I don’t give a shit, are you fucking insane?”

“A little,” You jest, “I mean—I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

This felt strangely vulnerable, his fingers pulling at your shirt with a deliberate endgame.

Naked in the natural lighting of your room, his fingers reaching for his own shirt as you work his jeans down his hips, appreciating his tanned skin as it shines with a thin layer of sweat. Despite the sticky heat that permeated throughout your apartment, his touch is cooling, comforting even.

“Another freebie?” You tease him further, hearing him snort as he reaches for his wallet and crowded you on the mattress, opening the tight leather before he grabs a wad of cash and shoves it into the sheets before tossing his wallet aside and diving between your breasts.

“Making me a poor man,” Javier retorts, peeking up through your tits as he squeezed them in his grip, mouthing delicately along the skin, “shit—but this, s’fuckin’ priceless.”

“I’m—fuck, I’m kidding, Javier. I don’t want your money. Never wanted it.”

It had always been about convenience, never expecting things to end up like this.

It was a mess, both of you were.

He’s seeing all of you, for once, and you him. 

And you know he needs, wants, without saying.

He fucks you slow, legs hitched around his hips as buries his head into the space beside yours, only rising as your noises grow with intensity, the bluntness of your nails digging into his skin.

“Inside,” You beg, “inside of me, Javi.”

He moans pathetically, lips squished against your cheek as his hips falter.

“Yeah?” He grunts, “Can I?”

You giggle airly at his question, nodding fervently.

“Mierda,” He curses brokenly, groaning softly into your skin as he pumps himself inside of you, the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim, oozing out as his hips slow, his hands kneading into your skin as he rests, breathing rapidly against your chest.

“We should—should talk, Javier.” You tell him again, after a moment of silence. “Like, really talk—you know?”

Javier hums in acknowledgment, “Tonight—give me until tonight, okay?”

Tonight was good enough, for now.

–

The first thing you feel when you rouse from sleep is pain.

White-hot and persistent, restrained by your hand as they’re tucked behind your back. You feel more hands, the sound of stiff leather and the smell, overwhelming as it invades your senses.

“I see why he keeps you around,” The voice comes from behind, eyes bleary as you blink before the hand in your hair grips tight, only catching the fist coming at you from your peripheral before your world goes dark.

When you wake again, you’re upright and in a chair, head slung back uncomfortable as you attempt to stretch, feeling heavy and groggy as you move, remembering the moment from earlier you become alert within seconds, eyes searching around frantically as you spot two men.

They were strangers, faces covered, but obviously sent here for a reason.

“Benny thought he could get it out of you,” The man says dismissively, “you foreigners—stupid, messy, predictable.” He grabs the fabric of your dress and plucks the small, miniscule device from the fabric that you missed, squinting to see it before the man breaks it between two fingers and tosses the dirtied fabric aside.

“We got her to ourselves, plenty of time to—”

“No,” The other man replies sternly to the obvious subservient man, “her boss—that’s what we came here for.”

“My boss?” You croak eventually, “At the diner? What do you want with—”

The gun he pulls from his back silences you in an instant. He reaches for the phone on the counter, the yellow sticky note still attached, “That him?”

“It’s mine,” You reply with ease, “I’m forgetful and—”

Your throat swells as he ignores you, dialing the number.

You hadn’t let the reality of the situation settle until you heard Javier’s voice on the other end, careful to not give anything away as his voice comes across more energetic than usual. They didn’t seem upset at the lie, but the finger on the trigger squeezed slightly as his voice came through, a silent order to play along.

“Hola, chiquita,” Javier greets smoothly, “¿Todo bien?”

You laugh softly, ���Yes—yeah.”

You know what they want, what they need.

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” You beg, voice unwavering as you stare the two men down, both of them seeming satisfied by your ploy to get Javier to the apartment without much argument.

The line falls dead without a response, the phone tosses aside to the floor as it shatters into pieces. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t going to get it easily.

–

You wished you could warn him.

One wrong move and the blade at your throat, the gun to your head—they would be your undoing.

You stared blankly at the broken lock and hinge of your door, footsteps approaching as you whimpered, the sharpness of the knife pressing against your skin as Javier whips around the corner and into the apartment.

The white-hot pain returns as you’re met with the butt of the gun, slumping from the chair as chaos whirls around you, curled up on the floor and crawling desperately away from danger as someone screams, gargling as it sounds, probably on their own blood. 

You couldn’t look back, breathing panickedly as you hid behind the couch and huddled in on yourself, a gun going off unexpectedly as your ears ring, gasping as you hear the sound of a blade puncturing skin once, twice, before it clamers to the floor.

You wait a moment, although it feels like eternity, expecting the cold press of a gun against the back of your skull, but instead it was a hand and eventually another, the faint smell of a familiar cologne that brought you comfort and warmth.

“Baby, we have to go,” Javier urges, “I have to get you out.”

Out?

You look up, his eyes wild but lacking any indicators of violence.

“It isn’t safe here.” He reiterates, “Can you walk?”

You nod weakly, feeling his hand wrap around your waist as he assists you in rising to your feet, still discombobulated and wobbly, he sticks by your side as you grab your things, silent as he eventually, alongside the crowd of presumably agents and police that pass by, invading your apartment, Javier is a guiding light of reassurance before you’re barricaded in the safety of his car.

“It was a tracker,” You mumble eventually, “when he was feeling me up that night—it was because he was trying—well, he—he did, he put a—”

You blink, feeling the sting of tears as you look up at Javier.

“Things are getting worse. It isn’t safe for you here, not anymore.”

“Here? What—what do you mean?”

–

Here meant Colombia.

Which is how you ended up in Texas two weeks later. Laredo to be specific. 

Javier had a place close to home. His family.

And you had talked extensively, it was the only thing that kept the panic from consuming you that night as he drove you to the embassy, tying up some loose ends before he drove you to the airport without any explanation until he was shoving the ticket into your hand.

His father had been waiting for you, as somber in expression as his son. 

They were so similar it made your heart swell, an unfamiliar feeling. 

Javier couldn’t explain what he was feeling for you and you could accept that, but he was careful and adamant in the idea that you would spend your time at his home, already setting you up with a similar job in town, a seamless transition that felt strange, but oddly easy to settle into.

“What if I just left?” You tease him one night, hearing his desk creek as he head slumps into his unoccupied hand, “Would that be easier for you?”

“No,” Javier says sternly, “I’m—this…I think I might be done. Feels like I’m fighting a battle that I’ll never win, feelings fucking pointless.”

It had been months now, curled up on his couch as you stared out the window and toward the empty road, wondering if the chill of fall was creeping in as the cool breeze hit your skin, “No more waitresses to help you out down there, huh?”

Javier snickers at that, though it was quiet.

“Stop that,” He chastises, “It’s not funny.”

You giggle in return, “I know, I know—just remember who’s keeping your bed warm every night, yeah? Oh—and your dad, he keeps asking when you’re gonna call.”

You hear him huff at that, clearing his throat awkwardly as he mumbles an apology to someone on the other end, the faint hum of the office around him feeding through the receiver. 

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.”

It wasn’t a cry for help this time, but still a phrase that was special.

A code, a message. A lifeline.

Javier was barely surviving amongst the cartel as tensions had pulled taut and drug trade seemed at an all-time high, nearly unstoppable anymore. 

It was beyond him, out of his control.

And for the first time in a long time, he has a reason, a want, to come home.

“Soon, chiquita. Soon.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it worried you immensely. 

“Don’t let it consume you, Javi. You’ve done enough.”

On the other end, his brow furrows. Disgruntled and annoyed at how right you were, echoing the similar sentiment his dad had told him a thousand times. 

He was done, he wanted out.

-

"El envío llega el domingo." / The shipment arrives on Sunday.

"¿Cómo te va? ¿Lo estás pasando bien?” / How are you doing? Are you having a good time?

"Cuidar a mi hijo." / Take care of my son.

[mattsjuul]

GRAVITY. chris sturniolo

༣ summary: chris is on tour and misses his girlfriend .ᐟ ♡

༣ pairing: clingy!reader & tour!chris

༣ warnings: suggestive, just a cute lil oneshot tbh, pet names ( i think only one tho ), long distance ???? idk

༣ authors note ♡: ok i rlly didnt know what to do for this tbh i js wanted to write for chris lol!!!! this MIIIGHT get a pt 2 tho. so twoshot!

you stand in your kitchen, your mind constantly filled with thoughts of your boyfriend while he's off on tour. is he sleeping? maybe he's eating something. i hope he's enjoying it. is he gonna call me? isnt he in new york? thats three hours ahead. three whole hours. so if its six pm here then its... seven... eight.. nine. nine pm there? so is he asleep? i dont know if tour's got him sleepy. gosh. can he call me? i bet he looks so good right now. fuck. then your thoughts are interrupted by a very specific text tone. it's chris! "Hey" "R u busy imy" you read, causing you to almost start jumping for joy in front of your open fridge. although you do a little squeal instead. "definitely not" "call me im begging" you reply. "I like that" he replies, making you giggle to yourself. seconds later, your screen lights up with a picture of chris with a big smile holding your dear friend, madison, 's cat.

"well hellloooo" you answer with a smile far too big. "hey sexy" he smiles back just as much. "i've been waiting for this call" you admit. "yeah? you been thinking about me?" he asks in a cocky tone. but it was lowkey doing things to you. well. highkey. "you'd like that wouldnt you?" you ask. "yeah." he proudly says. "i was actually about to rub one out since im alone. show me your tits" he jokes. "don't tempt me" you giggle. "i mean.. you're free to do whatever you want. you're an adult with free will in your own home" he babbles on. you take a deep breath, honestly debating it. why not? he's seen them pleennttyy of times. more so, touched them plenty of times.

"ya' know." he interrupts your debating. "i've had lots of time to think. especially to think about you. and ya' know, we're never really apart for longer then a week. and it's made me realize that you really hold me down. i feel like i need at least one night with you every week to function. not like night.. i mean one sleep. i feel like it's made me sleep not so well. is that crazy? i'm not making sense. but then also, it'll be like 10 am here and i'll argue with nick or matt and i cant run to you. you'd be asleep and i dont want you to be upset the moment you wake up. i hate this seperation. i hate making you wait.. like what if you stop liking me before i get back. fuck. you're not hanging out with that actor guy you like, right?" he goes ooonnn n on. well boobs wouldnt be too appropriate right now. "okay.. no" you reply for starters. "and i dont think it's crazy. i get it. but you're veeeryyy cute for thinking all this. i love you chris. i miss you so much." i say. "i love you. can i see your boobs?" he asks, a giggle escaping your lips at his very stupid words.

yet you lift your top up, getting a shocked look from chris. "oh.. i like those.. a lot." he says, a big smile on your face as you shake 'em a little. "just.. stay there for a second" he says, seeing him moving around, clearly pulling his sweats down. "join me, yeah?"

a/n: ohhhhh em geeee.... idk if i like this tbh lol. but lmk if u want a part two w phone sex hehe. im sorry its so so short sad face.. i actually rlly liked writing this tho idk. yaaay hope u like :') ♡ lmk if there r any mistakes pls i didnt proof read!!!!!! (im in class..) 🐻‍❄️

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Drunk Texts from Sevika ✞⛧

[3:47 AM - sevika]

Where the hell are you.

[3:52 AM]

I can’t find my keys.

Did you move them?

Don’t lie to me.

[4:03 AM]

Okay. I found them. Never mind.

You left the light off in the hall. Almost fell.

Trying to kill me or something?

[4:15 AM]

You’re probably asleep.

Good. Stay that way.

I’m coming home. Don’t get mad if I wake you up. That’s on you.

[4:18 AM]

Forget what I said.

You better be awake when I get there.

[4:32 AM]

I miss you.

Don’t tell anyone I said that.

Delete this message.

[4:40 AM]

I’m outside. Open the door.

Wait. Don’t open the door.

I got it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[1:15 AM - Sevika]

yo. you up?

wait i kno ur up

u alwasy wait 4 me lol loser

miss me?

[1:17 AM - You]

You just left two hours ago. Are you drunk already?

[1:18 AM - Sevika]

pfft no

im fine. like FINE fine

everybody herez lookin at me

prolly think im hot

[1:19 AM - You]

Or they’re staring because you’re typing while glaring at them. Be nice, Sevika.

[1:21 AM - Sevika]

u kno me im so NICE

just told sum guy id break his jaw

he looked at me FUNNY

…or maybe his nose idk he left fast lol

[1:22 AM - You]

Sevika. Stop scaring people.

[1:25 AM - Sevika]

nah. scared ppl r funny

bt not u. ur cute. like a bunny. lil bunny. my bunny.

u wanna sit on my lap again? bet u do. bet ur blushing rn.

[1:26 AM - You]

Sevika, you’re ridiculous. Are you drunk flirting with me? You live here. Just come home.

[1:29 AM - Sevika]

no im GOOD HERE.

this chair is kinda comfy but not like MY CHAIR. u kno the one i let u sit in.

U BETTER NOT BE IN MY CHAIR RN

[1:30 AM - You]

…I’m in your chair right now, actually. Feet up and everything.

[1:32 AM - Sevika]

wHAT THE FUQ

DISRESEPCTFUL AS HELL

im takin ur chair privlages when i get home.

wait r u waitin 4 me in my shirt 2?

[1:33 AM - You]

I’m literally in your shirt AND your chair. You gonna do something about it or just keep texting like a drunk idiot?

[1:35 AM - Sevika]

ok LISTEN u lil gremlin

ur gettin kidnapped when i get back

ur goin STRAIGHT to my bed. no more chair 4 u.

u think im jokin? bet.

[1:36 AM - You]

Oh no, whatever will I do? Guess I’ll just have to wait here like the little bunny I am.

[1:38 AM - Sevika]

stop bein cute im tryna be mad >:(

also ur def not a gremlin ur MY bunny

fine im comin home rn

…after one more drink

[1:40 AM - You]

If you come home smelling like beer and trouble again, I’m locking you out.

[1:41 AM - Sevika]

lmao ok but then who’s gonna carry u to bed?

face it baby u need me. luv u but dont tell anyone i said that.

[1:42 AM - You]

I’m screenshotting this.

[1:44 AM - Sevika]

delete that or ur grounded

also open the door when i get there

i lost my keys.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[12:56 AM - Sevika]

yooo

why iz the floor so sticky in here

feels like im walkin on a damn flytrap

someone buy me new boots rn

[12:57 AM - You]

That’s because you keep going to The Last Drop, Sev. Why don’t you ever drink somewhere normal?

[12:59 AM - Sevika]

cuz i own this place

kinda

like spiritually

everybody knows me here

bartender just gave me a free shot for “looking scary”

i think that’s a compliment

[1:01 AM - You]

It’s… something. Are you already drunk or just being you?

[1:03 AM - Sevika]

im DRINKIN rn duh

but im fine like always

bet i could arm wrestle half the bar and win rn

u think i should? for fun?

[1:05 AM - You]

No, Sev. Please don’t break someone’s arm again. Last time you did that, you came home with their wallet as a “souvenir.”

[1:08 AM - Sevika]

lmao i forgot about that guy

he cried like a baby

funniest night of my life tbh

i’ll bring u a new souvenir tonight if ur lucky

[1:10 AM - You]

I don’t need any “souvenirs,” Sev. Just come home in one piece.

[1:12 AM - Sevika]

pfft u worry too much

like a lil wife or somethin

wait

r u my wife??

we shud get married rn. i’ll find a guy to do it

[1:14 AM - You]

Sevika. No. Don’t get married at The Last Drop. That’s not even legally binding.

[1:16 AM - Sevika]

ur no fun. but u kno wuts fun?

thinkin about u

and ur face

ur face is stupid cute

[1:17 AM - You]

How drunk are you right now? Be honest.

[1:19 AM - Sevika]

uhhhh

like 3 beers and 2 shots worth of drunk

and one guy’s dumb enough to bet me i can’t throw a knife at the wall n hit the same spot twice

[1:20 AM - You]

SEVIKA NO.

[1:22 AM - Sevika]

relax babe i won the bet obvi

made 20 bucks

and the guy is buyin me another round

u married a genius

[1:23 AM - You]

I didn’t marry you. Yet. But keep this up, and I might leave you for someone safer.

[1:25 AM - Sevika]

lmao shut up u love me

im sexy AND scary

also i jus told some idiot to stop lookin at me

…or maybe he was lookin at my drink? idk

[1:27 AM - You]

You’re the reason we can’t have nice things. Now come home before you start a bar fight.

[1:29 AM - Sevika]

but if i don’t start fights who will??

jk i’ll finish my drink

n maybe stop at that sandwich place on the way home

u want anything or nah?

[1:31 AM - You]

Yes, get me a sandwich. And try not to scare the cashier this time.

[1:33 AM - Sevika]

no promises babe

but i luv u

dont wait up

unless u wanna be awake when i get there ;)

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[blackheart-6]

noelle undertale style sprites

hi yall

ive been wanting to get better at sprite art (this was my news years resolution actually!) so i decided to try and turn noelle into an undertale style battle sprite!!

i also really want there to be some sort of light world battle at some point, in the undertale style! i think noelle would be a pretty good candidate for being the enemy of that fight, so thats another reason i made this

i feel like it couldve turned out better, but i also dont really know what i couldve done different, if that makes sense 😅

i was trying to make sure she wasnt too tall or short, so that was kind of hard to work around. plus, i love my girl noelle but.. she got a biggol head lol. if you count her hair shes like half head 😂😂. but i couldnt really do anything about it without making her too tall (i was trying to be as accurate as possible)

but, i think i didnt do too bad overall ^^

i also made animated versions!

i couldnt decide which i prefer (since they both are kinda bad 🫣), so theres 2

ehh, im not too disappointed with myself, this is only what, my third pixel gif? im sure ill get better!! or at least i sure hope so :^

i also did those alternate faces/poses for fun, but i did them real quick, so dont inspect them too hard haha

if anyone has any tips or advice of any sorts to improve at pixel art, please share 🙏🙏 i struggle so bad at these, just being indecisive on every pixel i place 😫

but anyways, thats it for now, bye yall!

[mossadspypigeon]

I do not understand how you could possibly be so offended by someone pointing out the simpliest of truths. That Palestinians are human beings, and that share the planet with every one of us. Tell me who suffers when faced with this reality? Tell me how it is anti semetic to care about Palestinians who are suffering?

how was my answer in any way offended? and why can’t you answer my question?

why do you assume jews who dont support hamas and talk about arab colonization hate palestinians and other arabs? i have said numerous times that i do not hate all arabs.

you say it isnt “antisemetic” (antiSEMITIC) to care about palestinians…so why is it anti palestinian to care about jews and israelis?

have you studied palestinian nationalist ideology and why it was created? if palestinians left jews and israel alone, i would love to share the planet with them. however, the majority of palestinians (NOT ALL PALESTINIANS) have shown time and again they cant leave us alone or let us live. their nationalist ideology argues for eradication of jews. their leaders, both political and religious, in gaza and the wb brainwash the population with antisemitic rhetoric.

let’s look at some examples:

even many palestinians outside of gaza, the wb, and east jerusalem share these sentiments:

https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE80L0KX/

we can go all the way back to Amin Al Husseini, one of the grandfathers of the palestinian national cause and the grand mufti of jerusalem who was an ally of hitler (tbh we should go back to arabs conquering the levant but whatever). "Palestine is our land and the Jews are our dogs" or “فلسطين بلادنا واليهود كلابنا” was a slogan like hamas’ “khaybar khaybar ya yahood” (a reminder of khaybar, when muhammad led a massacre of jews in saudi arabia) created by husseini’s fans. it was chanted at a demonstration led by him that turned into the nebi musa riots, a pogrom against jews. the slogan was used during the intifadas all the way to today.

another? the original “from the river to the sea”: “from water to water, palestine will be arab.”

want some palestinian nursery rhymes?

“Palestine is our country

The Jews our dogs

Put one branch on top of another

May Allah break the Jews,

Put one bag on top of another bag

May Allah release the prisoners

PLO yes, Israel no

Palestine yes!”

“Revolt, revolt and let the revolution be Islamic

Revolt, revolt and live free for eternity.”

“The rhymes taught to children in the religious schools claim that all of Palestine is an Islamic Waqf. Accordingly, all of Palestine, and not just the West Bank and Gaza Strip, should be liberated from the Jews and declared an Islamic state”

by pro palestine authors btw

this is all a drop in the well that is palestinian national judeophobia/jew hate. and i say well purposely bc abbas claimed jews poison palestinian wells a few years ago.

once palestinians stop teaching their children blatant lies, colonization, and jew hatred, then we will have peace. until then, they will continue to want jews dead. no other group facing this would be asked what you asked me btw.

maybe read and listen to actual palestinian sources. watch al aqsa tv. watch PIJ videos and fatah videos. read about the crimes palestinians committed against my people like blowing up children on school buses, stabbing parents in front of their babies, raping and decapitating young women, burning families alive. watch the videos of the oct 7 celebrations and how civilians treated the bodies of jews and other israelis. how civilians participated in oct 7 and how they even shot our dogs. read about the lynchings of jews in the west bank. and then ask me to love those people.

do i hate every palestinian? no. there are some who support peace and blatantly hate their leadership. do i love the palestinian nationalist narrative though? no and i don’t have to. it’s a narrative based on arab supremacy and nazi rhetoric. its goal is to eradicate jews and to coopt our history so they can claim indigeneity.

so when palestinians who support this narrative start a war intending to murder all jews and israelis and then whine about losing the war? a war their leadership started fully intending to make their own people suffer? tough fucking titties dude. don’t try to eradicate the jews. leave us the fuck alone already.

[tigreblvnc]

BLUE LOCK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @kittywhoo

Your match is...

— Chigiri Hyoma

✦ It was a match I didn't see coming!

✦ At first, I thought of a particular character, but they were on your no-no list.

✦ So my second choice was split between two other characters. I'll talk about them at the end of your match.

✦ The result: I don't often match the red panther, but I think he's a very good fit for you.

✦ He shares several common traits. The first being a strong appreciation for beautiful things, finery, determination, and then injury, which we'll also revisit.

✦ "I like it when people are smart, or when people are good things wether i be naturally or from practice. I dont like simple minding people, i cant keep a conversation engaging with them. I like people who i can have a light banter with! Id like my partner to be competitive (to an extent)" This paragraph 100% screams Chigiri—he's clever, capable of dramatic turnarounds on the field, and above all, he's repeatedly proven that even a knee injury won't stop him from becoming world number one, showing the phases of success, downfall, despair, resignation, recovery, and breakthrough. If I quote the Egoist Bible: "He thinks his strong point is that he's proactive when it comes to things he likes or wants to do." Which 100% matches your energy.

✦ Chigiri is also known for his sarcastic tone and the jabs he throws at his opponents on the field. That said, he knows how to stay calm, even composed, when the situation demands it, putting other people's thoughts back in order. I can see him being the type who lets your anger explode without flinching, then helps you calm down by reasoning with simple but concrete arguments.

✦ He helps you channel your anger into energy to reach your goals. One of his love languages for me is 100% quality time: he'll spend time with you when he senses you need it, even if you haven't asked for it. He's particularly good at picking up on signs and gathering clues to understand when you need company or need time for yourself.

✦ He's someone you can reveal all your different sides to without any judgment. He has a certain sensitivity, be it artistic or emotional. Having gone through a few difficult trials himself, he understands your moments of doubt or emotional lows with ease.

✦ Totally the type to think about buying you a little trinket on his way home from work. I don't see him being too forward though—he'll just push the wrapped gift towards you with averted eyes.

✦ "Here, this made me think of you."

✦ Shopping trips together, what else? You'll spend your entire Saturday afternoon doing that. He likes to stop by the bookstore to search for the latest trendy novels or niche literature.

✦ One of the things he likes most about you is your ability to face adversity head-on. It's actually inspiring to him. You're on the same wavelength, and I can see you both spending hours complaining together about people you can't stand.

✦ When it comes to showing affection, if you're more direct and demonstrative, for him it's more subtle—through small acts of care or when he tries to make something annoying in your daily life easier. His second love language is definitely words of affirmation; he knows just the right words to uplift you and help you stay strong when you're going through a rough patch.

✦ I also think this is the love language he enjoys receiving. Chigiri really doesn't like showing his weaknesses in public; he'd only share his feelings with someone he trusts. No need to add that you are that person, and he even tells you about his dreams from the previous night. Sometimes, you both push back your bedtimes because you're talking non-stop.

✦ 100% the type to handle the boring household chores to lighten your load.

✦ Of course, he'll pretend it's nothing when you come home, reading a book in the living room.

✦ "I dislike it when people are unhygienic." I think Chigiri is one of the cleanest characters in the Blue Lock roster—he enjoys perfuming the room and combing his hair after a shower. Count on him for a well-kept house and nice decoration. He's possibly one of the characters with the greatest artistic sensibility and the most care for his appearance. Just for the sake of the quote: "The first thing he washes when in the bath is his forehead to avoid getting pimples there." and we can't forget about this one: "He spends his days off reading, taking long baths, and caring for his body."

✦ Also, for me, Chigiri is a very respectful guy off the field, polite, and speaks kindly to those who aren't trying to start trouble. I think he's the type of boyfriend that parents love to meet and get to know.

✦ One day, he teaches you how to play soccer with him, and don't worry—he won't pretend to go easy on you.

✦ In the evening, I can totally picture you two trying out trendy new cafes that just opened and chatting about your respective days over tea. Among all the characters in Blue Lock, I find Chigiri to be one of the few who can hold deep conversations on topics other than soccer. He has a very calm and attentive side that he allows himself when he's not on the field, and he dedicates that time to support you in your goals. In fact, he really admires your strength of character and your ability to push forward.

✦ Overall, you complement each other well while intellectually stimulating each other. Chigiri can be someone who's irritated and quick-witted, so hard to reason with, but as I've mentioned earlier, you're there to help him calm down. I don't see you both getting angry at the same time; more likely, you’d be the calm one to help soothe the other during a tough moment.

✦ He's totally the type to accompany you skiing, and I can see him snowboarding. About your ski injury, it immediately made me think of Chigiri and his soccer injury. I'm sure, in this regard, you both understand exactly how the other feels.

✦ And because it makes me think of a chalet during the cold season, Chigiri is totally the type to prepare the house for your arrival in the evening, with candles, ambiance scents, and a healthy meal he's cooked himself. All of this in front of a cozy fireplace with a good book on his lap.

✦ A final quote that makes me think of you both: "His favorite season is winter because he enjoys drinking tea and eating sweets while sitting under a kotatsu."

A word about your match: As I mentioned, I had thought of another character—two other characters, actually. The first being Yukimiya, who, reasonably, would be perfect to balance out your tendencies toward anger. The second was Hiori, who has a similar calm and observant temperament to Yukimiya. But I feel like he lacks the sharp wit that Chigiri has, in addition to having the traits you like in someone: ambition and a sense of aesthetics. I hope you liked this match, and thank you for reaching out to me for this matchup exchange!

© TIGREBLVNC 2025 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[obscureother]

the f/o wheel said. . Gerik next :0

What do your f/o's hugs feel like? theyre very warm and secure. . for you. for him, part of it is still fearful of you disappearing or leaving him, but once he is married to you, they no longer hold so much of that fear. theyre only very loving and soothing. .

What are your favorite dates to have with them? tho im not normally much of a fancy dinner person, something about gerik would make them more comfortable for me. . though preferrably a little set up at home, and then afterwards we play piano together or listen to records. uvu

What are their favorite dates to have with you? he likes a similar thing, tho he likes to perform for me sometimes too. to show me things, he likes to share the arts. he'll show me works he's done or starting on, be that art or music, or talk to me of plays or operas from his era. he likes to teach the culture :0

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you? the whole phantom soundtrack- no, obvi. for him. . classical music, tho i dont know very many specific ones. tho there is ONE (1) lindsey stirling song (not the poto melody-) that she did, i think its crystallize, that i think either sampled or accidentally used a few notes from Phantom that are unmistakable and cant be unheard once you hear them and i think of him EVERY time in those.

What's the height difference between you and your f/o? He is one of my tallest f/os :0 he is 6'3!! so if we go from 5'4" right between me and s/i 1 only a couple inches apart he is like. . 12 i- thats a whole foot. i didnt need to count that on my fingees, hold on. .

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you? he is good. . 6/10 i think. tho he is very lovey wherever you go, he doesnt like to go out in public much for obvious reasons, nor does he want to be overbearing on you in front of people. on the inside he wants to kiss and hold and squeeze and love, but he holds back til you get back to the little sewer house he has. he sneaks lots of kisses tho. . and keeps his arm around me all the time uvu he is so happy jgdfk <33

What's your favorite feature about your f/o? he's gerard butler- /j i think his hugs tbh, he's very cuddle-able uvu look at him. he would give good hugs. his deformity is not the worst of the phantoms out there, but there is something endearing about him looking like he got microwaved right next to his very handsome other half of his face. he's kind of. . cute "ugly," but not really. <33

What do you think they smell like? c a n d l e . probably like lake water. for my own sake, he finds ways to get clean water to bathe in so he doesnt smell like SEWER. tho he might sometimes when he's depressed cos he gets too sad to take care of himself. but of all the things in the world, that man smells like freaking candles. candles and old, dusty fabric. the kind that you huff dust and you go "actually this is nice. this is not so bad. *coughs.*"

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love. his music omgg. . he writes songs for his loved ones. he writes his heart out, just like he does christine. . he draws them, he makes little versions of them, he makes them kith his little self :0 kind of creepy? yes, unless you also like him, then its kind of like "awhh thats cute. ." he will make outfits, he'll do makeup, anything so his partner feels lovely and pretty just like how he sees them, all the forms of creative expression he does for me or s/i 1 :0

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them? oh yes. he will not sleep anywhere else. he wants to cuddle all the time and he is good at cuddling once he is let to. i love to cuddle him, he's very warm and soft. . he'll hum me to sleep, give kisses, brush through my hair, he's very tender and touchy for sleepy time.

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o? for me, it is just that he is one of the softest phantoms i perceive of them. he is, though temperamental and passionate, very tender and sweet and just very cute as he is. there is also something neat about him as an f/o specifically, not the character or the adaptation or anything, but the f/o version that lives in the dome in my brain. . he glows gold?? i dont like gold normally, but his aesthetic is gold and dark, but he has this. . aura on him, of gold sometimes. very cool. . i dont know how he got it or what for, but he does that sometimes. he doesnt know how he's got it either.

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have? ngl very similar to how he is with christine, but less. . convoluted?? he tries to help me keep going on my own passions and is very supportive, then when we come home, all he wants to do is love on and cuddle. odd for me to think of it as it is, he sort of. . worships his lover at the same time he is sort of that "im your angel, i take care of you" thing going on. not something im used to but he's very sweet. .

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day? he sings to me, or gets me to listen to music he knows comforts me. or he will read me stories or show movies that he knows i like. . lots of caresses or petting from him. very warm hold. .

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like? yeah, he likes to hold hands. he'll do it whenever i want, all i have to do is just grab his hand. uvu sometimes he'll offer it when we're walking somewhere or they arent busy with something as he does use them a lot.

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) he loves to give kisses :0 he will give kisses ANYWHERE. he will give them on the hands, face, lips, and shoulder tho the most. . in a nonsexual way, he also gives chest kisses or kisses hips when he is laying or leaned below me somewhere. very tender he is. .

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them? yes, i like to give him kisses uvu i give him kisses on his face, both sides when we're on our own so he doesnt get uncomfy when i lift off his mask from time to time. he gets forehead kisses, temple kisses, hand kisses. . sometimes i give him chest kisses to make him swoon a little. uvu

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o? i like to get him to do drawing or piano games with me :0 where we build off each other and do something silly. he will start off with like. . a lovely little sketch of something vague, and then. . i give it stick legs. dot eyes. and it looks like a goofy collision between comedic youtube animation and freaking glorious masterpieces. for something less silly, we do sometimes do nothing but sit and listen to music together. . it is nice too. .

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one? he calls me pretty french words i dont know the meaning of pdfs <33 some of them are related to heaven or angels i think, which totally go the opposite of where i normally tend towards, but. . for him. . it is an exception. . 💛 he does help me cope a tiny bit with aesthetics that make me uncomfy because he is halfway the opposite of my comfort aesthetics but he makes them not uncomfy for me. .

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them? i tend to call him the things you would normally call the phantom of the opera, ngl. . angel or angel of music, opera ghost, things like that. like. . spooky-angel kind of things lol. i dont know how well to explain that. . there is also the whole thing of him being "potato," but thats lore for another time lol. i normally compliment him on everything tho. there is always something about him i like. i like his outfits, i like the way he looks with or w/o the mask or little wig thing, how he is built. . he is handsome in lots of ways that he does not realize, some of them not physical at all. cos lets face it, he's not built like leroux or lon chaney lol.

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[pynkhues]

That anon is so fucking creepy and vile. It would be creepy and vile and disgusting no matter what, but to threaten to do that to two CHILDREN and someone facing domestic violence is just evil. Can you block specific anons on tumblr, or report them? Some people are just so pathetic.

Thank you to both of you, genuinely, it means a lot in a situation that now feels like - - y'know, Yeah. A Lot. I do think I was probably a bit naive with this fandom (although I do think it's the biggest one I've ever been in, honestly), but I think the mention of my sister's children is genuinely just so disgraceful and it actually is a criminal threat. So I hope that anon and the apparently boundaryless group of people they engage with realise that (although if they don't by now, hopefully they will at the end of this reply).

I was already getting dinner with my mum tonight before all of this happened, but I texted her on the way to tell her that I had Stuff to talk to her about, and y'know, I'm in my thirties, and me and my mum have always been close, amd she vaguely knows I'm 'in some fandoms', but to tell her about all of this bullshit tonight and have her opinions not just as a mother, and a grandmother to those two little boys, but also as a friend (which I'm very lucky to have her as at our big ages), and as a professional woman with a science, legal, political and journalistic background, was honestly the best possible thing to come back to earth to (so lowkey thanks for that anon, I guess?). She was outraged (and said things I could never type, haha) and funny and considerate (she already knew I wrote fanfic, but her response to me reminding her and showing her my ao3 was 'i love you, and i don't care' lmao) and, perhaps most importantly! Practical!

Which is all to say I've opened a case tonight, at her urging, with the Australian eSafety Commission, which they are taking quite seriously because of the threat of involving minors. But also generally!, So I guess well done on that, to the anon who's sent me those asks, your attempt to shame me for writing about consensual sex is actually now about you threatening a sex crime, because sending anyone porn over the internet without their consent, is, in fact, a sex crime, even before you threaten to involve literal children. I have to give them my tumblr login, but y'know what? That's okay to me, actually, given they can now track your IP Address!

(Sorry to the anons I'm replying to, this is now becoming a direct address of this [+ the friends of this] anon but - - )

I suspect you won't read this rationally, because I don't think you read much that I write rationally, but I do think you should know that you're assaulting people by sending them explicit material out of the blue, which I write, yes, and I'm going to own it if you do send it on, regardless of who you send it to. Again, yes, I'll probably be embarrassed if you share my fic and replies with people in my life, but I'm not going to be ashamed of any of it. I share it with consenting adults, you're saying you'll share it with adults who you dont give the chance to consent, and also literal children (not to harp on the point, but, anon, my nephews are 7 and 8 years old. They are currently navigating their mother's divorce from their abusive father - real people, real children, not made up ones like Louis and Lestat and Claudia - I'd ask you, genuinely, what you felt bringing them into this conversation was supposed to achieve beyond threatening me into silence? Which is - - I hate to say it, anon - - abusive behaviour).

I also do question what it is about writing sex that you find worthy of sending to family members at all? Do you think I should be ashamed of writing smut? Because that's the interpretation I get from your asks, and, again, that says more about you than it does about me. That tells me the reverse would threaten you, if I could send your behaviour or fandom engagement, or fic history to your family, you would feel threatened.

Because, okay, what's the alternative? You threaten to send my fic to my sister, okay, why do you feel that gives you leverage if you don't inherently find it shameful? I'm sharing work in a community of consenting adults, you'd actively choose to take that out of that (and before you argue this point, you are consenting, by clicking on the links of my fics). In fact, you'd choose to bring my family members into that. Why? Me and my sister talk about sex all the time, we're sisters, my fics aren't going to land on her doorstep as the surprise you think they will (but also, again, the implication of you thinking this should take priority over her literal divorce and custody case from her actually abusive husband, driving what? A wedge between us? While purporting to champion a fictional victim of it.....it's pretty transparent at this point, anon, and honestly I'd say ugly too).

Why do you think I should be threatened by her opinion of what I write? Do you think you know my relationship with my sister and brother better than me? You don't know her or him at all (that actually wasn't even his birthday btw), you don't know me, so then it's - once again - about you - and your opinion - of what I write, but is it? Because I'd posit that the degree of shame you try to place on me isn't about what I like, it's about what you like, because okay. My fics feature Louis often topping, occasionally elements of bdsm, which are literally canon at this point, your subset of the fandom has male lactation, mpreg, ABO, heavily fetishised drag, and feminisation up the wazoo, and it's not to my fancy, but I live and let live. Those are though also objectively far nicher kinks / fetishes than what I'm writing, which is two men trying to pretend they're fucking instead of making love, so y'know - - why am I the hang up, anon? If you send people I know to ao3, I'm not going to be the person they judge.

Anyway, look, you should know that my mum has also organised for me to consult with a lawyer specialising in cyber safety and international law in the next few days, and I had also started the (yeah, sure, admittedly awkward) conversation with my main workplace too about you potentially sending posts or fic to them. We've had an actor doxxed already this year, which opened the doors, and I figured, well, gosh, may as well tell them about you guys too. Again - - you might be able to embarrass me, but you can't shame me out of existence, especially when you're apparently literally willing to commit sex crimes over it. You said I was two-faced in those last asks, and y'know, I don't think I am. I think (hope) i'm someone friendly, empathetic and thoughtul, but there absolutely is a resolute, stubborn cunt in me that I inherited from a generation of Australian women, and the number one thing I was raised on by those women was that you don't bend the knee to bad behaviour.

[manticorecure]

welcome to the lifesteal smp i mean the festival of termina today we will be fighting and killing the moon. i am the deadliest player of the deadliest smp and this is my boyfriend whose best friend may or may not be the deadliest new god in termina

more on the fear&hunger au underneath the cut

unfortunately everyone is more or less human here cause i cant figure out how to make minecraft species f&h relevant but in my heart they r still all sorta nonhuman. just dont think too much about it

branzy and clowns character backstories r based off olivia and marcoh respectively. this means that yes rek is reila and yes he is the machine god. rip bro he lived a (not particularly) good life.

branzys gameplay is actually more similar to marina because redstoning is technically a more magical thing than just regular engineering. i didnt give him the title of redstoner cause there r people like mr cube on ls who idk if i want to incorporate yet

clown is pretty similar to marcoh though id say in terms of backstory and gameplay

i havent yet decided if i want lifesteal to be the location of the festival of the termina in replacement of prehevil or if i want the festival to be named lifesteal and its still located in prehevil or located on an smp of the same name but it operates with similar mechanics to both f&h and the ls smp (i.e. this is still a death game where u have to face off against crazy monsters BUT if other players kill you they get extra chances to live. im not factoring in coin tosses here but i guess itd be the equivalent of living even after u fail a coin toss)

squiddo and rat are both merchants! they give exclusive weapons to clown and general equipment to other players. in clowns case i think theyre sorta like the pockethat except instead of kids they ask for his mask or jester hat for the scythe or mace

the mastermind behind the whole operation is (technically) both parrot.... "rher" in this case would be lifesteal admin and parrot would be perkele

that blob in the corner of ash talking to clownzy is actually based off the pig guy who dies if u annoy him too much cause i thought itd be funny since. ash has a notoriously shitty mic. haha get it

im not fully caught up to ls s6 so im gonna hold off on assigning any other character roles or characterization til i get those down lawl

[mqriuss]

04 | Now playing: Good Girls

from 'bad girls that haven't been caught' series

note: do i like this or not i dont know anymore guys

playlist | series masterlist

rindou likes you.

even ran has started to notice it. this guy is literally going to school everyday just to see you and teach you basketball after school. and the more he attended school, the more he learned about you.

he learns that you're not actually a loner and you have a few friends from different classes that you hang out with during lunch, and the first years think you're more reliable than the entitled student council president.

also, you were so good at english that nakajima sensei gets you to help her check homework answers for fun? and you just casually speak three other languages. crazy. now he just likes you even more.

all this time, rindou also thought you were the type to snitch and remind the teacher they assigned some homework, but you've never done anything of the sort. in fact, it was always fumio doing that kind of stuff. so most of his classmates have more to say about fumio than you.

"fumio's the teacher's pet, y/n's just a smartass," they'd say, in a nutshell at least.

another thing rindou finds out about you is that you've never been a part of any club in school. you just join a random one each week, which is why you're pretty good at everything—swimming, archery, chess, football, volleyball, sewing—the list is endless, but basketball will never be on it.

speaking of basketball, you stopped getting lessons from rindou after ten days. "why do you wanna stop? getting a bit too challenging for ya?" he teased you that day.

"i'm getting bored of it, and i need to focus on studying more," you told him, and your reason made sense. mid-term exams were approaching after all, but you were nowhere to be seen during free periods.

now imagine the terrified faces of the poor girls from class 2-B when rindou came barging in to the home economics club, no tie, first few buttons undone, hands in his pockets, and chewing on an empty candy stick.

"where's y/n?" he asks, unaware that he was practically glaring at them.

"w- we don't know..." one of the girls stammers, gripping onto her friend's hand under the table.

"i know you know. you're her friends, aren't you?"

"the library!" the other girl exclaims, and her friend tries to stop her but she shakes her head vigorously—as if warning her to just stay quiet. "y/n is always at the library any chance she gets when exams are coming up. i suggest you don't bother her while she's studying," she informs him and panics when she sees his eyebrow twitch upwards. "i- i mean, i'm sure she'll understand if it's an urgent matter!"

"please don't kill us!" the other girl chimes in and her friend's eyes widen at her.

rindou makes a puzzled expression, "why would i do that?" he mutters before turning around on his heel. "anyway, thanks for letting me know. see ya." with a lazy wave, he walks out of the classroom and the girls let out a breath they didn't realize they've been holding.

"what does he want with y/n?"

"i don't know, i hope she'll be okay!"

when rindou steps in to the library, he's immediately greeted with a "shhh" from the librarian, making him freeze in his spot. he glances at her before taking another step- "shhh," she shushes him again with a glare and finger over her lips.

"i was just-"

"shhh."

rindou squints, his lips part as he glances around as if there were invisible cameras filming him. he scratches his head, moving on to find you in the maze of this library.

he swears he's passed by every table they had, but you weren't there. even your belongings weren't laying around anywhere.

"excuse me-"

"shhh."

rindou closes his eyes shut, inhaling deeply before exhaling a long breath. "y/n, i'm looking for y/n," he whispers.

"oh, she's in here," the librarian talks for the first time, and rindou deadpans upon hearing her voice. it's loud. almost earsplitting, even.

"um, i don't see her anywhere?" rindou glances around and the librarian shrugs, taking her glasses off to wipe them.

"she came here and hasn't walked out."

"you talk really loud for a-"

"shhh."

rindou sighs and goes venturing back into the library. this time, he weaves through the aisles, and he finally finds you. and honestly, he was expecting you to be sat on the floor with a textbook on your lap.

but what the hell were you doing standing around with hayashi fumio?

you lock eyes with rindou and waste no time dragging him away, completely leaving fumio behind with a dumbfounded expression.

"what the-"

"don't tell anyone," you firmly tell him, but you remained calm.

rindou blinks at you, putting two and two together. "you and fumio..." he trails off, sounding unsure of himself.

"we're dating," you say with a nod, and rindou's mind flashes back to that day fumio and the basketball team walked in on you guys using the indoor court. "you better not tell a soul."

← prev chapter | next chapter →

[losergender]

the more i read the faster the torture will end (yes im aware im choosing to do this and can stop when i want to)

okay back to titan attacks

"the truth of my life was becoming depressingly obvious: people didn't like me" alexis i know i said that i feel bad for you and stuff but you are also so unlikeable my dear. you never talk to anyone and your only 2 interests are mathematicians and classical music and you don't even bring them up when talking to people

stop guys she's wearing a black hoodie with a skull holding up a middle finger in the front

alexis this is why people dislike you.

alexis is on the pink press everyone

she keeps saying fluck instead of fuck

"the great war killing all our race was really bad for friendship" miss,,, miss do you hear yourself,,,

the one thing that annoys me the most about this book is that alexis cannot go two sentences without mentioning how she is suicidal and how she wants to die and straight up off herself and how despite having so many chances at it she never does it (WHICH IS COOL. DONT KILL YOURSELF PEOPLE) but she also never gives any explanation as to why not? like there was one chapter that in which she was at corfu w patrochilles and she was like "the best thing i could do was drown myself." cut to 3 paragraphs later, she's swimming with her pet because "she loves swimming." she's going through physical torture in the military thing they're at? "i wish i would die" "it's easier to die" "i'm gonna kms" "the moment i got a sec i was gonna kms." she gets close to death once and she's like "thank god i didn't die." which is a thing that happens. many people myself included who have experimented a near-death experience or real fear of death after/during suicidal ideation will come to a realization that maybe they didn't want to die and the cognitive disonance of "i wish i could kms but i dont want to die" is, i feel, a not all that widely explored topic in YA fantasy. and i think it's interesting, and it opens so many doors in terms of character development, and it could have make this book so, so much better. and instead not only is the chance not taken, but also, it turns sucide into a joke for 36 chapter and it makes is so that any mention of actual risk of death/suicide goes as a joke even if its serious.

(bonus points -> she has two very clear reasons as to why she can't die. one is that she's technically immortal which i dont really get bc shes meant to be in military school as a trial to see if she deserves immortality but also she and her classmates can already not be killed. except for the fact that. they can because 3 of them died. so whats the point idk. and i can only imagine how distressful it would be for someone who has suffered so much and is actively facing torture every day of their life that and who is suicidal to be suddenly told that she is never gonna die. and she doesn't mention that whole dilemma AT ALL. then, theres the fact that her little brother doesn't know where she's been the past months and he's still facing homelessness, this time by himself yes i still think he's dead. see, she brings up charlie like once every 3 chapters when she remembers to which i guess is a good amount. the idea of charlie is there either to make her feel guilty (when she has the wet dream) or to motivate her, because she wants to go back to him. BUT IT IS NEVER THERE TO MOTIVATE HER OUT OF HER SUICIDAL IDEATION? WHICH,,, AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO FINDS THIS A BIT RANDOM? like how come charlie is good motivation when you are being forced to run after weeks of starvation but he is never once mentioned when you are wishing you would kill yourself? why is it "i gotta survive this for charlie" and then immediately after "i should kms" and no mention of charlie? like it feels so,, idk. whatever. sure.)

back to reading

speechless

"at this point, i didn't care if carl gauss thought i wasn't accomplished in the after life (i cared). carl can suck on my... stuff."

YOU HAVE A NICE GUY GREETING YOU WITH A SMILE AND BEING FRIENDLY TO YOU IN SPITE OF THE FACT YOU HAVEN'T TALKED TO ANYONE BUT 1 GUY IN MONTHS, IN SPITE OF THE FACT NO ONE WANTS TO KNOW SHIT ABOUT YOU, IN SPITE OF THE FACT YOU'VE BEEN COMPLAINING ALL CHAPTER ABOUT HOW PEOPLE DISLIKE YOU?? AND YOUR REASON IS THAT HE IS TOO GRATEFUL AND CHEERFUL?? ALEXIS IM TRYING TO BE NICE TO YOU BUT MY GIRL I CANT

a titan just attacked in the chapter called titan attacks who's surprised

"ice covered" you're in a greek island in autumn why is there snow.

okay so. the titan attacked while they were running (they've a circuit they have to do often around the island) and most students went to hide but she stayed behind to help one who had fallen (and who now is dead) and then she started to attack the titan herself with a stone and stuff until kharon (the predator) came to finish him off. and now. i think he's gonna kiss her. which. to quote finn mertens, i nono wanna.

btw in case anyone's lost, there's two guys pursuing alexis, kharon (the predator) and augustus (the evil teacher slash pokemon sword guy) (and theyre lovers)

alexis youre stupid

c-ptsd flashback okay

oh and now kharon mister "she's prey",, mister "i'm gonna kill her", mister "i'll be your sworn enemy", miser "i wanna torture you" is like "nooo alexis :( i didnt mean to trigger you by threatening to beat you up"

"can i touch you" BROTHER YOU WERE HOLDING HER BY THE JAW SECONDS AGO AND HAVE BEEN TOUCHING YOURSELF TO HER FOR AGES. WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN 1 MINTE AGO AND NOW FOR YOU TO LEARN CONSENT

augustus' whole thing is that he's overprotective of women to the point he wants to control every single one of their actions and he's so controlling of alexis that he threatens to torture/actually tortures everyone who touches her including doctors im gonna scream

also can i just say they go through all this intensive physical training just for their weapons of choice to be. Guns.

welcome to sunny reacting to stuff in which sunny reacts to stuff. in this tumblr post, we're dealing with blood of hercules (the i'm a girl and as it turns out i'm hercules book) because i'm doing So Bad Mentally that i am in dire need of something that will make me laugh.

chapter 1 reaction below

montana?? out of all states?? okay go off

"kids at school called it apocalytic core. i called it hell" already laughing. i love my life decisions.

SUPERSEED I'M SORRY WHAT?

"if you wanted to live (i didn't)" you and me both bestie

does the author know verb tenses

i'm saying so little bc otherwise the post would be huge. every single sentence is hilariously bad this is so silly

summary if anyone is interested -> pretty unclear dystopian setting, 10-yo befriends an echidna named nyx and then gets a foster brother delivered to her room the next day. the titans are like superhumans killing normal people and the "spartans" are 12 protector families (8 are olympian, 4 are cthonic and those are dangerous murderers or something).

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[unriding]

a … a gift from the talented @kruinka 🥹 thank you so much!! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[cent-scratchnsniff]

something bad did indeed happen to that man. spent abt 25 minutes trying to find a better picture of that one (1) offical piece with his eyes open that wasnt compressed or tiny