#but the disclaimer thing is true af

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Never surprises me how in the pursuit of ''challenging gender stereotypes/homophobia" we end up in the same spot

"We're deprogramming" no Susan you're still programmed except you cut your hair lmfao

When you see a post about women or gay people that sets off your “terf” alarm, you’re the problem, not the op.

You’re the one that feels the need to closely inspect anything about women or homosexuals to make sure it meets your standards. You’re the one who feels the need to heavily police the language women and homosexuals use, and the topics we discuss. You’re the one who is choosing to view us as malicious until we beg for you to think otherwise.

It’s not anybody’s fault but your own that your knee-jerk reaction to seeing posts about women or homosexuals is to assume they’re morally wrong.

[carigm]

About Dyersfilm’s “leak”

For all of you who don’t know, dyersfilm is an insufferable individual who used to go by the name of swiftlynatalia. She is racist, homophobic, transphobic, and even made fun of her supposed favorite actress’ eating disorder. However, people on Twitter (especially mlvns) entertain her because she had reliable sources during the filming of S4, and after during post production. She had some true leaks, many being the same that Reddit got right, while others only she had. She was also wrong about quite a few things, but generally she was reliable.

It is worth noting though that she is extremely biased against byler (many of the leaks she got wrong for S4 were pertaining their storyline) and absolutely hates the ship.

This time around, she was getting some leaks during the first couple of months of filming to her curious cat, but she herself claimed that these were not reliable leaks whatsoever and that she was pissed because this time she doesn’t have access to the real sources she had for S4. She has complained about this repeatedly for these past few months. The leaks she has gotten tho, many she has mocked and made fun of because they don’t align with what she wants from the show. She also made a “disclaimer” when the show started filming again that she would not be posting leaks about Byler because she hates us all, and yet every single one of those most likely fake leaks she got she posted, and many of them talked about Byler. She would post them and mock them for “clearly being untrue”. She has barely gotten a single Mlvn positive leak this whole time, and when she’s gotten at least something that alludes to them having scenes together she immediately ran to post it and alert all her friends, even tho she herself knows all of these are most likely fake.

For weeks now, her curious cat has been dry af because I guess nda’s are stronger this time, or no one wants to leak shit to her (she’s rude as hell). she posted the following ask 10 days ago. Someone asked her if she knew about any Mike and El scenes and she said no. Keep this in mind for what’s coming next…

Then suddenly yesterday, she alluded to a Jonathan spoiler she’s supposedly pissed about, but refused to post it like she’s done for everything else. People quickly thought it might involve Byler because she said she wasn’t going to post “leaks” about it, even though she had already lol. So they asked her and she said that “yes, it has to do with Byler.”

Then shortly after this someone asked about Mlvn again, this was just today. Again, note how she proceeds to say she knows nothing about Mlvn 😭

Bylers on Twitter noticed her answers about Mlvn and her comment about a supposed byler leak involving Jonathan and started speculating. She ofc noticed this, and not even after an hour of her saying she knows nothing about Mlvn she goes on to say this.

….

She knows nothing but somehow she knows Mlvn is stable? The bipolar disorder of these answers could rival my own bipolar.

Mind you, we all know that she would’ve jumped up at the first opportunity to post any leak that implied Will was pining and miserable, her and her friends would’ve had a field day over it. And yet, she only clarifies this after…

Not to mention how utterly ridiculous this all is. They’ve filmed stuff up until episode 4 (from what we know), why the hell would Will be pining and hung up over Mike if Mlvn is endgame? That makes absolutely no fucking sense. They would have him immediately fully patch things up with Mike and move on, not be hung up on someone he can’t have in the middle of an apocalypse. Especially not after the Duffers said he’s getting a happy ending. Will getting a happy ending but still being in love with Mike halfway through the last season with Mlvn being endgame is absolute lunacy.

Especially when you consider the fact that narratively, in a sense, Will has already moved on. He doesn’t expect anything from Mike, he doesn’t think Mike can like him back. He saw Mike confess his love in front of El, he helped that confession happen. Will literally has no problem with Mlvn anymore pls 😭 He saved them!!

This is the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever read.

Will is somehow upset at Mike not feeling the same way…when Will already believes Mike doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t ever expect any reciprocation 😭

Either she’s wildly twisting this supposed leak out of context to fit her own perceived narrative of what should happen, or she’s straight up lying about this.

And we know she’s lying about Mlvn so…you people decide what you think of this buffoonery lol.

Wait for Reddit leaks y’all. This woman could get a legit leak saying Byler is endgame and dig her own grave before posting it.

[astrosouldivinity]

Astrological placements in a natal chart that may indicate Bipolar Disorder or BPD 😶 🌊

Part 1:

⚠️ Disclaimer: I am not saying these placements are inherently borderline or bipolar. But they may be more prone to borderline/bipolar behaviors. You can use astrology to observe your subconscious patterns. Essentially, you can use it for shadow work. But these may not apply to everyone so take what resonates and leave what does not.

I want to clarify that I am not demonizing, diagnosing, or generalizing mental health disorders. Astrology & psychology can intertwine with each other. You can use astrology for deeper introspection & pairing both psychology + astrology together can help with healing. But I am simply observing my understanding of specific psychological disorders & how they connect to astrology via shadow work. But you can use astrology to predict certain mental illnesses. But it’s still a prediction so it may resonate or it may not.

Scorpio Sun/Moon/Rising/Venus/Mars/Saturn- when they feel emotionally slighted they can have a tendency to see things in only black & white. There is no gray area when it comes to how they perceive situations. Can be vengeful & petty when they feel a real or perceived betrayal.

Capricorn Moon- the moon is detriment here. It can be difficult for these individuals to connect to their emotions. They may even suppress them. But they can be emotionally explosive if pushed to that point. Everything they have been suppressing will come to light essentially.

Gemini Sun/Moon/Rising/Venus/Mars/Saturn emotionally unpredictable & chaotic af. They can be multiple different people at once feeling multiple different emotions & perceiving multiple different perspectives/realities. Their brain is always moving & rarely ever still.

Cancer Sun/Moon/Rising/Mars/Saturn can be emotionally explosive especially if unevolved or negatively aspected. They feel things intensely & can be all over the place emotionally. The moon cycles can impact their emotional state too.

Negatively Aspected or Unevolved 12H/8H Stellium/Sun/Moon/Mars/Venus/Saturn. These individuals may feel like they have an unstable sense of self. They can be emotionally volatile as well especially if they are not connected to their emotions yet.

Moon Square Venus- These individuals can struggle with codependency & will display behaviors like emotional suffocation & emotional neediness overall. May struggle with forming relationships with others because of this too.

Chiron Aspects- Chiron in astrology represents our deepest wounds. But essentially, if these wounds are unhealed or just unevovled in general, they can manifest negatively. Like emotional avoidance or emotional volatility.

Uranus Moon Aspects- can manifest as emotional independence. These individuals may find it difficult to ask for emotional support. Which may manifest itself as emotional detachment or mood swings.

Pisces Sun/Moon/Mars/Venus/Saturn or Neptune aspects- may struggle with being grounded in reality & are prone to more escapist behaviors. They can be emotionally self-destructive too. May be prone to addiction-like behaviors. Could have an addictive personality.

Water Dominant Charts: these individuals may be emotionally unpredictable & sensitive in general. They feel extremely deeply which can be intense for them especially if they haven’t learned how to control their emotions yet.

Aries Moon/Saturn: may be prone to emotionally explosive & emotionally impulsive behavior especially if unevovled or negatively aspected.

Empty 1H or Saturn in the 1H- may struggle with feeling like they have no sense of self & it may even feel like they lack one. Which makes it difficult for these individuals to develop & assert their personality overall especially true if they have no planets in the 1H.

~Part 2~

[moldybonessmell]

Spider-squad winter outfits headcanons post!

you can tell i drew different charas in separate days oh wow

So i kinda posted few days ago about recent lack of atsv content Hobie content specifically so i had to deliver myself, amirite? Tho i decided to not stop on Hobie and did the entire spider-squad or perhaps, spider-quad? *badum tss* im funny see

also it's like -38C/-36.4F in my city and i be wearing like four layers at all times so i got inspired can't believe i still love winter when my ass be freezing this bad

So here's my headcanons for spider gang winter outfits!

Let's imagine they all have a mission in winter...

Gwen

She can't really wear her hood bc of wind but everyone teases her about looking bald without it lmaoo so she got one of these knitted hoods instead, also wears one of these fluffy soft jackets

Was wearing uggs until she lost one of the boots during a fight LOL so she got these uggs with velcro fasteners + leg warmers

pics: 1) found-store on Pinterest, 2) wglwkjg on Pinterest, 3) pey on Pinterest, 4) ·˚ Isabella·˚ on Pinterest

Miles

I see him wearing something kinda like his og itsv outfit but winter version with one of these gigantic puffy jackets and nike sneakers with fur inside + a hat with pompom

Let's imagine his jacket is opened, i didn't realise in time it makes his spiderman-outfit not-so-spider looking

pics: 1) Hipok on Pinterest, 2) Nordstrom on Pinterest

Pavitr

He got one of these fluffy earmuffs (because his hair needs to be looking perfect at all times!), a puffy cropped cord jacket, a pair of these puffy winter shoes (these have a ribbon so you don't lose them flying around a city) and a BIG scarf with mittens (he definitely lost one of these tho)

He's the least used to cold out of the squad, but he's being very brave about it and wears a socially acceptable amount of layers

pics: 1) Campus Gifts on Pinterest, 2) WTI Designer on Pinterest, 3) true deals club on Pinterest, 4) liisa rita on Pinterest 5) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Hobie

In contrast with Pavitr he would wear a disturbing amount of layers, definately one of these mfs who wear layers instead of one warm thing

He's got one of these plaid "winter" coats that are thin af but swears he's warm cus it gets hot during fights (nobody believes him cus they watch him start to shiver in real time) (Pavitr crocheting a scarf for him was the only way to make buddy dress fairly properly for cold weather)

At least Hobie got a warm hat, right? Yes, spikes on the mask do just go through it, but it's warm, right? -right? ("it's a ventilation, mate!" or whatever lol)

Got layers of sweaters over each other: a turtleneck-sweater, a cropped one on top + a vest over all these

Would wear his usual boots just with warm socks under

pics: 1) People on Pinterest, 2) Natalia on Pinterest 3) Fur Hat World on Pinterest 4) OLUOLIN on Pinterest 5) Elena Ilieva on Pinterest 6) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Disclaimer: english is not my native and i was SWEATING trying to find how all of these clothes are called in english so if i messed up some names ignore it pls or let me now how they are called correctly

Okay, this is all! Hope you liked it!

[blackdragoness]

PICK-A-CARD READING

IF YOU WERE A DRUG, WHAT DRUG WOULD YOU BE?

WHY DO PEOPLE BECOME “ADDICTED” TO YOUR ENERGY?

Do you give off ALCOHOLIC vibes, CRACKHEAD energy, OR STONER vibes?

**THIS IS PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT** I am not calling any of you addicts. Its just a game to have fun so just enjoy it for what it is: ENTERTAINMENT. I am not a professional and the advice given is based off my own personal experience with these addictions. I share what helped me free myself from these vices but I strongly recommend speaking with a professional that can help you better. Without further ado....

LESSSKOOOO

PICK A CARD:

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PILE 1: ACE OF HEARTS

If you chose pile 1, the vice that best describes your personality is:

***STONER***

**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you smoke alot of pot, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I dont care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but at the same time, it’s your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****

Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:

Laid-back, chill AF – almost too laid back it can sometimes be mistaken for laziness – but at the same time, a lot of you reading this probably are lazy and already know that. Its not a roast, I’m just affirming what you already know LOL. Big couch potato energy. Very laxed. As contradictory as it sounds, this is actually why people become addicted to your energy. There isn’t a lot of people who have the chill factor that you have and being around you is like a break from the hustle and bustle of life.

The cool kid – the IT Boy/Girl. Everything you do is effortless

Iconic – does your own thing & known for not following the crowd

You guys have a mind of your own!

Unbothered – it is very hard to ruffle your feathers or get a reaction out of you. It is both an admirable and irritable trait depending on who you’re talking to. If not, you may just react to things very slowly and may find yourself hot and bothered after the fact

Very easy going and easy to talk to – you can chop it up with almost all personalities because you are very relatable and relaxed.

CLASS CLOWN VIBES - you may not take things too seriously and can find humor in anything! You say some funny shit man, and you aren’t even trying to be funny.

EFFORTLESS COMEDIAN.

Very witty and intelligent

You can hold a conversation with a variety of people. Whether its small talk or deep intellectual conversations.

People remember you for the conversations that they have with you and the energy that you bring to the conversation. You may not even realize the effect your words or energy have on people but it lingers on their mind and energy long after you have gone away. All a person needs is one “hit” of your energy.

Might be apart of the “woke” culture or many people would describe you as being “woke”

May be labeled an overthinker, borderline paranoid but also a very critical thinker. You may think about things that most people don’t think about. It may shock others how much you know about a variety of topics  

Very grounded and rooted in whatever it is that you do.

Natural beauties and very natural bodies.

“LOVE CHILD”

Hippy vibes

You have a reputation for always being in a good mood and always being happy for no reason. Its very rare that you are in a bad mood. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have those days. You just know how to guard your emotions and only let a small number of trusted people see your vulnerable side.

Y’all are A VIBE. Periodt. Point. Blank.

You can vibe with a crowd AND you can vibe all on your own. You could be both introverted and extroverted depending on your mood. Sometimes you might be in a corner on your own doing your own thing, other times you’re mingling with a variety of different people. Just depends on your mood.

You probably have lots of conversations with your self all the time. People might think you’re a little weird for that but you might find it funny

Very unique and one of a kind

You might have your own distinct smell. Maybe you have a certain perfume/cologne that you use all the time that people know you for. OR maybe you just stink and smell like body odor. It can be either one of those two extremes LOL (Smokers LOVE the smell of weed, nonsmokers tend to strongly DESPISE the smell of weed so it goes both ways. Don’t shoot the messenger HAHA)

May have a love for music or be very musically inclined

Lyricist, journalist, writer/author - may be very good at articulating your thoughts and emotions but you may mumble or speak softly.

Every moment with you is a HIGH moment – by “high”, I mean when people see you, even if the interaction is short, its most often the HIGHlight of peoples day.

Everyones BUDdy

Wall FLOWER vibes

May be looked at as slightly ditzy

ADVICE:

Tap into your creativity more. This pile has the creative abilities, if improved and mastered, can be monetized on greatly.

Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and to stand out.

If you struggle with overthinking, it means you aren’t taking enough action. Start moving and putting your amazing thoughts into action so you can manifest the life you dream about all the time. Mistakes are inevitable and part of the growing process so don’t be afraid to make mistakes or make a fool out of yourself. That’s how you learn. The longer you sit on your ideas, the easier it is for doubtful thoughts to creep in which in turn will stop you from taking any type of action. It is time to take action and slow down the voices in your head telling you that you aren’t enough.

Believe in yourself more and learn to love yourself for all your flaws. Your biggest critic and your biggest competition should always be yourself so build yourself up more. Quit the negative self talk. Critique yourself towards improvement but not to the point of giving up. You’re more than you give yourself credit for.

Be more comfortable speaking your mind in the moment instead of bottling everything up all the time. You only end up beating yourself up in the end and it slows down your progress.

If you are addicted to the drug, my advice is to take a break from it for a bit so you can start being active again in your own life. You don't have to quit cold turkey. Take it one day at a time but the wheels will start moving for you soon as you make that change. Too much of anything, even if it's good for you, can eventually start to work against you. But it's your life. If you can find that balance while still keeping it in your life, more power to ya! 😊

CHANNELED SONG:

MOVING ABOUT MY WAYS by Josh Wawa White

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PILE 2: ACE OF CLUBS

If you chose pile 2, the vice that best describes your personality is:

***ALCOHOLIC***

**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you drink a lot of alcohol, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I don’t care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but at the same time, it’s your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****

Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:

BIG GOOFBALL ENERGYYYY

Very energetic and MAFANA (pronounced “mah-fah-nah” meaning “heated” in the Tongan language). You might always be MAFANA and ready to do anything at any moment. Also you might literally be MAFANA in body temperature. Might have a warmer body temperature or may always be hot even in colder temperatures. May enjoy very hot showers as well.

Extremely physically attractive. Sexy and sultry type of aesthetic

Very seductive mannerisms and voice

Very spontaneous and slightly chaotic

You might speak in slang a lot – doesn’t matter the slang, but you have your own way of speaking

People would probably describe you as being very bold and confident. You aren’t afraid to say what’s on your mind and you don’t care who hears.

True to yourself

Very genuine and authentic in all your interactions

You’re probably sociable and outgoing

Extremely outgoing – very rarely are you ever alone. You always have a crowd of people surrounding you or with you.

You have your own unique sense of style and fashion taste. People know and recognize you for your fashion sense. It’s just very……YOU.

Brutally honest but honest nonetheless – people may avoid you because of how honest you can be. But people know when they really need an honest opinion, you are the first person to come to mind.

People may describe you as having multiple personalities. It can be both a good thing or a bad thing depending on who you are talking to. One things for sure, getting to know you is NEVER a bore.

Never a dull moment when you are around

LIFE OF THE PARTY

You are the person everyone hopes to see at an event or a party because they know it will be a fun time if you are around.

Very confident – ALPHA vibes – BOSS energy

You may be everyone’s “go-to” person when they need to vent or get things off their chest. Interacting with you is like a glass of wine at the end of a really rough day. If it was a really tough day, you’re more like 3 shots of Henney instead of wine, lets be honest.

You have a “numbing” effect on people – interacting with you is like nothing else matters but the present moment. You’re a very rare type of person

You are the person to impress! Every room you walk into and every person you interact with, you are the center of attention & people will do anything to get your attention praise, & validation.

Not only are you the person to impress, you are also a very impressive person. You impress through your looks, your skills, your intellect, etc – ALL AROUND impressive

You are very expressive, blunt, and outspoken. You say whatever is at the top of your mind and react to everything based off of your emotions in the moment.

May at times be very moody

Night owls

Kareoke King/Queen

Shameless

No one ever knows what to expect with you. You keep everyone on their toes

Maybe a bit clumsy and silly but thats why people love your energy. Its giving "overgrown child" vibes and its refreshing.

You help heal alot of peoples inner child just by being yourself. You bring that young vibe to any occasion.

ADVICE:

Take more time for yourself and away from the noise and the audience. I sense that you don’t enjoy being alone because that is when the dark thoughts creep in. Maybe you dislike feeling lonely. Get more comfortable with being on your own and in your own energy. Sort out those dark thoughts. Try to figure out where the darkness originated from and learn to heal it. It will improve your social interactions greatly.

Learn to enjoy silence. A lot of positive ideas, peace, and self discovery can be found in the silence.

Your greatest strength is your outspokenness. However, by remaining silent, you can avoid a lot of regret for yourself. You can also learn a lot about others simply by listening and remaining silent. Stay outspoken, but add silence into your personality every now and then to bring more balance to your character

SLOW DOWN - in all areas! Speak slower, walk slower, think slower, react slower, develop relationships slower, etc. You may start many things very quickly and burn out just as fast. Learn to pace yourself and develop your mental/physical stamina

If you are addicted to the alcohol, my advice would be to find a healthier hobby to substitute that vice. Exercise helps with regulating your emotions as well as a healthy eating plan. Get more sleep and start journaling. Having an outlet to really pour out your emotions will keep you from pouring another cup. Take it one day at a time, but the wheels will start rolling for you once you make that change. But it's your life, do as you please! If you can find that balance in your life, more power to ya!

CHANNELED SONGS: ALCOHOLIC by COMMON KINGS

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PILE 3: ACE OF DIAMONDS

If you chose pile 1, the vice that best describes your personality is:

***CRACKHEAD***

**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you’re a meth/coke head, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I dont care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but its your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****

Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:

The most energetic of all the piles

CEO/Supervisor energy

Very focused and determined to accomplish anything you set your mind to. You are willing to start things over as many times as you need until you get it right.

You may have an addictive personality but also others may find your personality very addicting as well. Once someone has tasted your energy, its very hard to shake you.

People may become very obsessed with you. You circle peoples minds multiple times a day. They just cant figure you out. You may also be very obsessive and possessive yourself.

FOCUSED. FOCUSED. FOCUSED, Extremely focused individuals. Your focus is probably your most admirable trait.

As focused as you are, you are also probably a very great multitasker

Entrepreneurs or entrepreneurs in the making. You may be very business minded

You are usually always 10 steps ahead of the game. You see all sides and make very calculated moves based off of your observations.

Very observant individuals. You probably notice and remember the tiniest details about people and you know how to make people feel really special in every interaction with you. People don’t expect you to remember certain things they’ve mentioned or worn, but when you bring it up to them long after the fact, you really make people feel SEEN & HEARD. This makes you more trustworthy in their eyes.

May be accused of being narcissistic but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You may have been a victim to narcissistic abuse in the past so you’ve learned the ins and outs of all the mind games being played. So when someone uses a mind game on you, you flip it back on them and then they have the audacity to call YOU the narcissist. It has become your tool for self defense but also agitates those on the receiving end of your narcissism. To put it into perspective, most super heros and world leaders are narcissistic because they need to be. If not, they would get chewed up and spit out by the world and wouldn’t last a day in their position. If they wanna call you a narcissist because you refuse to adopt their mindset or their perspective, then so be it! Accept the title and keep it pushing. Remain true to yourself.

Very self-reliant and reliable. You conquer every task and assignment thrown at you and you do an amazing job at it in a very time efficient manner. People may try to discredit you or say you couldn’t have done it all by yourself but the proof is in the pudding darling. In reality, these folks are just projecting their own insecurities on to you because we all know, if they were in your position, there is no way they could have done that on their own. No one can deny your workmanship because you prove it time and time again.

Lone wolf vibes. You may not have many friends or you may not be open to inviting new people into your circle. “NO NEW FRIENDS” vibes

You probably have a sturdy set of friends and you’ve known them for a long time.

Very secretive and private. You may enjoy your privacy and may tend to keep a lot of your life hidden from the public eye.

Very protective of your energy and your space.

May have a lot of people who constantly have an opinion on your life. You do a great job at blocking them and their noise out of the way and continuing to push along.

STRONG STAMINA – yall can last for a lonnnngggg time (however you interpret that LOL)

Great debater – if someone wants to come at you sideways, they better come prepared with their arguments because going against you isn’t easy. You know yourself, you know your facts and you know what happened. Barely nothing gets past you.

Out of all the piles, this pile has the most haters. I don’t know why and neither do you. You must be someone of significance to have this many haters. You represent PRESSURE and people feel that energy as soon as you walk into the room. This is a compliment for you but a threat to your haters. No one wants to feel pressured to improve. You don’t try to apply pressure. You just ARE pressure.

You cant be tamed. Very hard to lock down and hard to pin down.

Unbeatable

Invincible

Immunity

Misjudged and misunderstood but never stops remaining true to yourself. Let the haters do their thing but keep doing you booboo.

Diamond in the rough

Might wear a lot of jewelry or you should wear more jewelry but this is something people notice about you. Maybe you have tons of jewelry or you have a piece of jewelry that people remember you for. If not, I suggest wearing more jewelry because it looks great on you.

ADVICE

Learn to handle the pressure that comes your way. You attract what you put out there and unfortunately, this is one of those things that is out of your control. People feel pressured when you are around therefore, you may feel as though pressure is constantly being applied to you. Don’t sweat it. These experiences are to show you how strong your character truly is but you must remain true to who you are if you want it to work in your favor.

Its okay to be more open and available to others. You can still maintain your strong boundaries but you don’t have to shut the entire world out. Remain open!

Keeping an open mind may also be helpful for you. Not everything will play out the way you envisioned it in your brain so keep an open mind so you can solve your problems as they arise.

Take some time to relax. You give off very strong workaholic vibes and sometimes you can overwork yourself to exhaustion. Give your body the rest it needs through sleep. Remember to eat throughout the day and fill your body up with the nutrients it needs to keep you going and alert for your various tasks. Go outside and enjoy the outdoors. Take time to care for yourself.

 Learn to lighten up a little. Your laser focus can sometimes make you too serious to be around. Laugh a little. Smile more. Let loose. Enjoy the life in front of you. Balance out your work and play and you’ll find your life is more enjoyable that way.

If you are addicted to the drug, my advice would be to invest in yourself more. You won't have the money to spend on drugs if you throw your money into something that will benefit you more in the long run. Take a class to build on a skill you already have, sign up for a committee, give yourself responsibility and bring purpose back into your life. But start small. Learn to depend on yourself and hold yourself up before trying to overextend yourself for others. Too much responsibility is probably what got you to this point or maybe it was the lack thereof. Whatever the case be, you need to love on yourself more & know that you are more than enough. The wheels will start moving for you once you make that change and the clarity that follows will bring you immense joy.

CHANNELED SONG: WINNAH WINNAH by RIA ft SPAWNBREEZIE

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Just finished grinding Assassin's Creed Mirage! WOOHOO! ୧⁠(⁠ ⁠ಠ⁠ ⁠Д⁠ ⁠ಠ⁠ ⁠)⁠୨

I think it's a deffo wonderful game and a refreshment after the RPG trilogy (it does have RPG elements to it, but still), and it also have some things that are lacking. It reminds me of the good 'ol days, but deffo not on par with the good 'ol days.

Here're some of my thoughts and reviews!

🕌 Sleepy's Assassin's Creed Mirage Review 🗡️

(Spoiler Warning ⚠️ Including the ending ⚠️)

Disclaimer, this is just my personal opinion. You may agree and disagree. I’m just gonna talk a lot because I LOVE Assassin’s Creed with all my heart. Here goes.

VISUALS

(+) Basim Ibn Ishaq, the handsome man that you are… HOLY SHIT (yes I’m adding him as the first plus point of this game what of it). Man's fine AF. 

(+) Baghdad’s really beautiful, nuff said. The color palette is PERFECT - displays the warmth of the atmosphere really well, but also just enough greens and many starking hues of flowers. 

(+) The waters and environment textures are CRISPY.  The detailed patterns on the clothes, the engravings and the state of the arts is really cool. I haven’t really looked a lot into the 800’ Baghdad arts, but I can see lots of good details and art styles. SHOUT OUT TO THE ARTISTS!!

GAMEPLAY - Now here’s what I have a lot to comment on.

(+) Stealth -> I think they did quite good with the stealth. One of the many complaints that I saw on the previous RPG trilogy games was the fact that the main characters/players had no reason to be stealthy, because they can just barge in and defeat the enemies easily. Ubi has marketed the game to be more stealth focused and intentionally made Basim a less of a fighter (make sense, since he came from a thief background, unlike Bayek, Kassandra, and Eivor who are actual trained warriors since they’re kids). However, this brings me to the first lacking point.

(-) Combat -> The combat feels janky. I feel like I’m really fucked up in combat situations if I don’t upgrade my sword and dagger. Like I get it, Basim is not meant to be much of a fighter, but in the beginning parts (or… even the middle parts of the game, let’s be real), I feel like combat is HELL. I forgot the Youtuber who said it, but he said something along the lines of “I’m an assassin, I want to feel like an assassin and want to feel like a badass and can take down many enemies with ease.” And that actually rings true with me. When I’m in combat and countless soldiers are fighting or following me (and I don’t have the smoke bomb with the forgetting effect), I’m most certainly FUCKED. 

(+) The fighting style is cool though, it's stylish and the finishing moves are sick af. It could deffo use some work. 

(-+) Parkour/Movements - It’s alright. It’s most certainly better than the previous RPG trilogy, but it’s definitely not Unity or Syndicate. Sometimes Basim can do something that I didn’t want and I’ve lost count on how many times I got caught and died just from a mis-movement. I literally don’t understand why they don’t use the Unity parkours and combat styles. Unity’s parkour is smooth, swift, and stylish. It feels GOOD. 

(+) Stealing - I’m a loot goblin in games, and believe me, I think I’ve spent like hours just stealing from the entire population of Baghdad that by the end of the game I’m probably richer than the Taxmaster and the whole entire Abbasid Caliphate. It’s fun, it’s easy, but it can sometimes be hard enough to miss. I just hope there’s more variety/difficulty in the stealings in different places – Like maybe in the Round City the diamond thingy is much smaller, or in like for stealing merchants (who has particular fashion/silhouette or have wallets/pouches with different colors) can be harder to steal from but have more rewards and money. 

(-+) Map - OKAY. I love the fact that Mirage has a significantly smaller map than that of Odyssey and Valhalla. It’s focused and it’s much more centered. HOWEVER. For a game this caliber, and with this good of a graphic? It’s much too small and it’s too divided between two parts. Hear me out – The graphics are really cool, but I feel like the map is too divided between – either a densely populated city, or just barren lands of desert. I think the map could be much much bigger with much more collectibles and much more variety in the terrains. Like, for example in Black Flag (The S tier game. Argue with a wall), there’re more than one major city, while in Mirage the map is so very centered (Yes I get it it’s the Round City), but I’d love it if there’s another major city that we can travel to, like Damascus, for instace. + I love the Tales of Baghdad. MORE TALES OF BAGHDAD PLEASE. 

STORY - nOW THIS… I never liked the stories post - Origins and here's why : 

(-) LET 👏 THE ACTORS 👏 DO 👏 MOTION 👏 CAPTURE 👏 - My biggest complaint for the RPG game styles is always about the facial and motion animation. The cutscenes feel DEAD. The eyes are DEAD. I almost can't feel anything. Ubi is rich af, why not use facial capturing? AC3 was the first AC game to use motion capture, and holy shit… it's one of my fave games. Yes. All games, not only AC series. The emotion in their faces, the gestures, the small glances, the little movements - they all decide every character's personality. The reason why I love every AC since AC3-ACOrigins is because the actors pour all their voices, faces, even body movements into the interactions between characters, because they make the stories feel alive. Let the actors be actors. I can rant more but this is already a long post so I'll stop. MOTION 👏 CAPTURE 👏.

(+) I love Basim's origin story. Dude's a 17 year old street thief who got a bit over his head and ended up becoming a fugitive because he killed the fucking caliph himself. That was crazy HAHAHAH anyway even though I think the beginning felt a bit rushed I love it. I just wish they could milk it more.

(+) I love the side characters! Especially Ali (I think he's hot 👉👈 and he's the absolute freedom fighter). Anyway, even though they don’t really do much, they all feel alive and do lots of things (except Roshan prolly HAHAHAH but there's a reason I guess)

(+) Roshan. Mentor and reminds me of Al-Mualim. I particularly love the fact that after all that wise words throughout the game, she literally threatened Basim if he actually went to the underground temple. And when she showed up covered in blood??? And THE TWIST AT THE END??? "Roshan bint La-Ahad". SHE'S ALTAIR'S ANCESTOR. THAT FUCKING SHOCKED ME YOOOO. She's just amazing. 

(-) Pacing - I feel like this is because they’re speeding things up (which is a good thing), the pacing is pretty standard in the beginning, but the ending is a bit too high of a rollercoaster mount. The ending went from 0-100 real quick. I feel like we need a more of a climbing storyline. This is why I kind of don’t agree with the ‘centering’ storyline instead of a linear story. Centering styles of story has no climb in the intensity, and because of that we can’t feel the character developments because he’s supposed to stay the same even though we’ve killed like 3 bosses already. And then when all the underlings are dead, finally the boss racks up Basim’s curiosity super duper high that it becomes too sudden.

(-) Weak Villains - The villains since Origins are always hidden and unknown, unlike the previous games where the Templars are literally KNOWN by the people. I want more villains like Haytham tbh, where he literally doesn’t care about the precusor sites and only wants stability in his reign as a Grandmaster. Or if the villains do care about the Pieces of Eden or have a prior interest of the First Civ, at least let them have an actual personality and character, let them be a menace and a threat since the beginning of the game instead of being the NPC’s we kill to finish the game. Let them challenge our beliefs as an Assassin/Hidden Ones. Let the villains actually have an impact to the main storyline. Imagine in the end Basim and Qabiha really went to the underground temple together, and got confronted by Roshan. That’s where the conflict in Basim climaxed! Imagine the emotion! The drama~! 

(+) How the stories interlinked with Valhalla. Basim is a sage, and host of Loki who sought revenge to Odin (who wronged him). So I don't think Basim nor Loki are evil per se. They're just gray. Now the stories aren't just about Templars vs Assassin, it's more focused towards the First Civilization. It's a bit hard to keep up but it's nothing a bit of reading/looking up some lore videos wouldn't solve.

MISC

We need more outfits! The outfits are far too few for us to choose from! 

Wonderful and mystifying music. Nuff said. Brendan Angelides and Layth Sidiq nailed it. One Republic and Mishaal Tamer’s “Mirage” in on repeat on my Spotify right now.

I love gear chests hunting and all the collectibles. I just wish the map is bigger and there’re more collectibles T_T I’M A LOOT GOBLIN OKAY.

I learn history of Baghdad LFG. I play largely for the stories and not the gameplays, so if there’s a codex entry or any new historical sites I always read it. Learning history doesn’t hurt! 

How I can really relate to the real world. I live in Indonesia where 90% of the people is Muslim (I’m a Christian), so when I here familiar words like Alhamdullilah, Assalam’ualaikum and Wa’alaikumsalam, or see the people praying, the Adzan sounds throughout the city, the people praying towards the Ka’bah, it kinda feels like home! Just hope that they add more funny shit to it though, like “Yaallah Basim! Istighfar!” Or “WALLAHI.” Or more Arabic sayings so we can immerse more to the world.

MAKE BASIM DO THE 5 PRAYERS (maybe when we pass time or after a big mission we come back to him finishing a prayer).

FINAL VERDICT - 7.8/10 -> It’s a focused game, and it really did come back to some of the original elements of AC before the RPG trilogy. It’s not too long and casuals can play it without feeling like we have to grind like Odyssey or Valhalla. Deffo would recommend playing it!

Once again, BRING BACK MOTION CAPTURE ‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️

If you did play it gimme some thoughts in the comments! Thank you for reading! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

[jaemified]

I COULD NEVER LIE TO YOU.

“maybe i finally understood why you were the way you were. or maybe you just never tried to understand me.”

☆ pairing ; toxic bf lee chan x fem reader

☆ genre ; hurt, ANGST, no comfort, toxic relationship, y/n vents but she has no one, slightly suggestive content

☆ warnings ; swearing, drinking, implied substance abuse, mentions of cheating and sex, y/ns insecure af (and only cz he made her that way), chans a gaslight and manipulator but also very possessive !!

☆ wordcount ; 0.9k

☆ synopsis ; youve been struggling with a toxic relationship for years now, but you had no one to tell that to, or anyone thatd believe you at least. so while your boyfriend slips out for the night to god knows where, you use this time to write down and express everything youve bottled up all this time.

☆ kona speaks ! - i think its funny how i always start with swearing in cw when its not anywhere near the worst thing in the story LMAOAOAOA anyway sorry i havent uploaded in FOREVER.. college is so hard (+i love my new format! all my drafts from the past 2 months are written like this:))

!disclaimer!, this is a pure work of fiction and is not in any way related to chan and his personality! purely for entertainment purposes only, and for me to express some thoughts :)

READ BELOW THE CUT

OCTOBER 31, 2023

you had left me on my own yet again. its not like i had any true friends left to be with anyway, after you scared them all off, that is.

who knows where you couldve gone.

no, the real you.

my sweet, sweet channie i fell in love with all those years ago.

where could you have gone?

maybe i wasnt good enough, maybe i wasnt pretty enough.

or maybe you werent understanding enough.

i always thought it was me, but maybe it was you all this time.

i like to think back at when we were last happy, god. that mustve been ages ago, just about.

it was.. my 16th birthday?

-my 16th birthday-

it was.. the day we had to put my dog down. my puppy since i was young. i remember it all clearly now.

i was..

-i was..-

we, we were 17.

mmm, my dog was probably my best friend. the realest one in a while.

i remember how you were there for me, even took me to my favorite donut shop to distract me while you tried so hard to make me laugh.

it worked.

i wish you were still you when we were young.

my sweet channie.

where could you have gone?

i could care less about your whereabouts.

i could care less about how you told me i was lying and that you knew i loved you whenever i tried expressing how i felt about us now.

but maybe i just want to be loved again.

maybe i just want to feel something again.

and i know it cant be with you.

i remember the last time you brought me out we were at mingyus halloween party last year.

nobody could find you, so i went to look for you myself.

i noticed your location was still shared with me, and not any of your friends.

so i tracked you to our car.

-our-

i tracked you to your car.

(since nothing that was yours was mine anyway)

and there you were.

fucking some random girl in the backseat.

that was the last day i saw any of my friends.

you never let me out again.

“you cant go, youll just be in my way.” you said before you left for soonyoungs christmas party.

“you cant go, i cant bare to see you hurt again.” you told me before i was about to leave to my own birthday party planned by my friends.

“you cant go, youll just play victim in front of all my friends and cry about how i fucked another girl.” you told me before you left a few hours ago.

i never know with you. but, i know deep down you care.

somewhere.

its always how y/n cant go here, y/n cant do this. or, shes too busy, we have something planned, shes not home.

even in the way you always spoke over me i knew you were just trying to speak for me.

but what about you?

why cant i have a say in anything you do? why do i get everything taken from me? why did you scare off all my friends and even make your friends hate me too?

you always came home high or on something whenever a different girl each time, dropped you off after you came back from a different party.

i never missed the way theyd look at me.

as if you said something about me.

because you know i never forget the look on someones face

it wasnt till later when i found out from wonwoo that everything you did to me, you told those girls thats what i did to you.

i learned to be quiet though.

i learned to sit there and smile, and just take it.

there was nothing i could do though, theres nothing that couldve changed your actions.

i mean, i cant control you.

so why can you control me?

the channie i knew from when we were 20 wouldve consoled me and been there for me.

the channie i knew from when we were 15 wouldve just laughed about how mr seo accidentally buzzed his head in the boys locker room.

the channie i knew from when we first met in grade school wouldnt even have thought about doing half the things you do now.

so where did we go wrong?

i still think about that.

was it, when we hit puberty?

was it, when we moved out?

was it, when we graduated?

our first date?

the day i found out you cheated?

y/n scoffed as she looked at the giant brown teddy bear in the corner of the room that chan had won for her on their first date.

she let out an annoyed sigh, thinking back, looking back at whatever point in time that couldve even reflected a glimpse of this change in him.

it was too subtle, but too sudden, for her to even remember.

she took a sip of her ginger ale before picking up her pen and scribbling some more in her diary that only she had the key to.

who knows what he’d do if he saw all the things she said about him.

you really werent much help.

nevertheless, i still love you.

i really fucking love you.

i know you do too.

i know a part of you inside still cares for me.

i could even cry thinking about it.

yeah, i realize i dont get out much.

but you never hurt me.

physically, at least.

the emotional damage is beyond repair though.

but i know theres still a bit of the you from our youth left.

i see it in the way you look at me.

no matter how mad,

how upset,

how happy,

how sad you were,

whether you were high,

whether you were drunk,

even when we were younger too.

you always looked at me the same.

that softened gaze and warm eyes.

the eyes never change. the eyes dont lie.

i mean, you could deny it (which id only laugh if you tried), but your eyes tell.

maybe thats why im still holding on.

maybe im just waiting for the boy i first fell in love with to randomly come back.

the chances are slim.

but i still hope.

im holding on.

by a thread, at least.

not like you’d let me leave anyway.

i could say how theres still love left within us

probably, somewhere

but when was the last time we were genuinely happy?

what do you get out of this?

because it isnt happiness. it cant be. you wouldnt be here if you were.

we’re both miserable. i see it and feel it.

it’s like, im just here for you.

i can understand the pressure though.

everyone would ask “how did you make it through college?” “how did you make it through high school?”

they dont understand though. you kinda made me

-you kinda made me-

they dont understand though.

i mean,

maybe i finally understood why you were the way you were

or maybe you just never tried to understand me.

i could tell you all of these things.

but i couldnt.

because i could never ‘lie’ to you.

[stupendousfoxthing]

“Things that do not prove someone is queer:

Consistently and frequently praising queer art/artists

Consistently and frequently citing queer art/artists as inspiration

Holding hands with someone of the same sex

Cuddling with someone of the same sex

Kissing someone of the same sex

Intentionally wearing matching clothing with someone of the same sex

Wearing queer pride clothing

Consistently and frequently referring to someone of the same sex as attractive

Always singing romantic songs to someone of the same sex "

I’m sorry but this is ignorant as hell. I know you were trying to be sarcastic but none of this proves ones sexuality and the fact that you are even making this comparisons with someone from South korea is just laughable.

Even if all these things were true, there are people called ALLIES. Allies do all of these and more and that doesn’t make them one bit queer but only that they are supportive and accepting of those who are. I am as straight as ruler but I do more than half of these because I am an ALLY.

Using stuff like wearing matching clothing is just pathetic because these are idols we are talking abiut and yes I know that the fact that many people do doesn’t mean that what taekook do isn’t special but you don’t know their intentions when they do things do you? So how would you know if these things are intentional or how would you know if they even mean what you think they mean?

Talking about holding hands, kissing, complimenting, singing song. I’m sorry but do u know bangtan? They all literally do all these things so what are you even talking about?

I’m sorry but if these was you trying to make a case to prove Tae is queer, then you have failed because none of these things makes a person queer. He could do all this and so much more and not have the least queer bone in his body while there is someone somewhere who does the complete opposite yet they are queer af.

Go back and read my post again. The whole thing. I added the disclaimer within seconds of publishing it, so it was there long before you sent me this. You missed the point ENTIRELY.

[k-rising]

Chenle's birth chart analysis

DISCLAIMER: This is just a part of the analysis of the idol's natal chart, which wants to show a deeper perspective on the idols life. This analysis is carried out thanks to the data that appears on the birth chart. The point of this post is to entertain. [This idol hasn’t confirmed his birth time, so I used the standard 12pm time to calculate his natal chart].

!!: since we don't know chenle's birth time, we have no idea if he's a scorpio or sagittarius sun. when this happens, we should analyse his sun with the traits of both signs.

this little man is passionate, intuitive and loyal. he can be considered as cold when you first meet him, but once he opens his heart you'll be able to see how protective chenle is with the people he loves. chenle is also very funny and curious, and tries to spread his positivity to the world. even though he's quite sociable, he considers few people as his true friends.

having sun square uranus can mean that he can have a love-hate relationship with his own personality, more specifically with his weird side. having this aspect means that he possesses an electrifying personality which can make others either hate him or love him... that's why it can be hard for him to open up easily.

chenle has his moon in the sign of aquarius, which makes him a stubborn person with a strong ego. he's emotionally distant, since he feels uncomfortable when expressing his emotions. this dude tends to rationalize his feelings and prefers dealing with his problems by himself. plus, he's emotionally mature with both his moon and mars making a trine with saturn and tries to be as objective as possible.

he also has the sign of aquarius as his mars sign, which makes him a rebellious, ambitious, independent and creative person. chenle needs a job where he can express his thoughts through art and being a singer was a very well made decision. however, I think that he will have more than one job, tho... I don't see him just as a singer... he would probably like having his own podcast or youtube channel where he can chat with his fans or something like that.

this placement also makes chenle a very argumentative and emotionally impulsive person. he probably gets mad easily and doesn't have a lot of patience.

chenle is very proud of his ideas with his sun conjunct mercury and sometimes he can be seen as a know-it-all.

he has both mercury and venus in scorpio, which means that he's good at keeping secrets, specially his own ones. when there's a debate, chenle will try to win it at all cost. this dude is smart and critical af. he likes to get to the heart of things, no matter the consequences.

when he has a crush, chenle is very observant and likes knowing the smallest details of that person. however, he doesn't like to reveal much about himself. this man is very daring once he decides that he wants to have something serious with someone. chenle wants to have a relationship that transforms him in some way. he wants to feel comfortable and safe with that special person. if you ever make him upset or do him dirty, it will be hard for him to forgive you right away.

even though he wants all of those things I mentioned earlier, chenle doesn't know what he really wants in a relationship; there's a clash here between his needs and his wants. I feel that he does love in an intense way and does get a little jealous from time to time, but he also wants to have some time on his own. chenle doesn't like clingy people, he prioritizes independency. I also feel that, since he's not good at expressing his feelings, that also plays against him. he's likely to have many experiences with many people to finally know what he really wants.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

[5irefly]

So this is basically Drunk Wednesday Adams.

(THIS BECAME MUCH LONGER THEN I THOUGHT and it was supposed to be jokey)

Disclaimer: I am an awful writer (that's why I draw) and my grammar is terrible, I can barely form a sentence IRL. But I tried to polish this best I can. :)

Note: This is all Yoko fault most likely, she would sneak drinks, if it wasn't her, still blame her.

- Every single thought, true feelings will come out...

With Enid she always show love in her own unique way, shes not out there and Wednesday almost comes off as shy since she with love, its such an intense and still new feeling for her, so she takes it slow. BUT with a little “boost”, she is down on her KNEEEES confessing her love to Enid.

(Wednesday on her knees looking downward but holding onto Enids leg)

W - “Oh Enid...”Me vuelves loca sabes eso, te has llevado mi corazón *chuckles*. Mi corazón te pertenece, mhm? “ *Starts looking up at her smiling*

*grabs hand* “You are so cute,” *kisses hand*

“beautiful,” *kisses wrist*

 “sweet” *continues making her way up from her hand towards her neck*

As she gets closer to her neck Enid turns super red and can’t form words, her claws whip out with a pair of uneven puppy ears and tail. Her tail wags so hard it’s thumping the bed post next to her. She is just panicking.

Wednesday on the other hand just wants to kiss her endlessly.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

Besides that gay shit Wednesday is so nice, she the type to comfort you and be a listening ear giving some advice. Sad? “Here have a drink!”. Boy trouble? “Go cut his dick off”

Ehhh sometimes its good deep advice or its just...that.

- She can surprisingly drink A LOT tho, how can her small body consume so much? Where does it go?

- Play some music she’ll dance and get into it, she likes to encourage others to dance with her

- She sOoOo huggy to friends especially Enid, this girl will not let her go. She always trying to hold her arm and rest her head on her

- Her genuine big smile and giggles are SUPER cute tho

- Oh my god please don’t start a discourse with her. She goes from friendly to “WAIT A MINUTE.” and will start a bunch of argumentation. Like, you can’t win, she has an answer for everything somehow.

Its funny but holy shit she will go on a whole rant about society and everyone is dumb af nowadays, and you are sitting their like, “Wait a minute? Didn’t I just asked you which Doritos chip flavor is better, how did we get here???”

- The worst thing that happens is she become more impulsive and daring. So Enid has to keep an eye on her.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

In the end when she is tripping over her own feet, she’s just tired af and will lean onto someone or Enid and doze off. She might even steal one of Enid plushies and cuddle with it. (yes Enid took a picture, she made sure that shit was in her icloud just in case something happens)

When morning comes she wakes up all grumpy looking and pretend like nothing happens.

*ᵖᶦᶜ ᵉˣᵃᵐᵖˡᵉ ʸᵉˢ ʸᵉˢ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶦᵐᵃᵍᶦⁿᵉ ᶦᵗˢ ᵃ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵗ, ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵃᶜᶜᵘʳᵃᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘʳᵉ*

But when Enid goes up to her bed and starts going off about last night-Wednesday raises a finger to “hold it” and telling her she doesn’t want to know.

Maybe she did do something…hopefully nothing too...particular…but if something did happen, she’s gonna pretend it didn’t and everyone is literally delusional and must have been drunk cause Wednesday would neeeverr do those things. They must be seeing things.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·. 

✦EXTRA

*Later after school almost evening*

*Enid shows recording of drunk Wednesday dancing*

W - That’s not me.

E - That’s obviously you.

W - That’s not me.

*zooms in to her face* E - Who is this?

W - …..not me.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

END

ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵃⁿᶦˢʰ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦˢ ˢᵗʳᵃᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵍᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢˡᵃᵗᵉ ˡᵐᶠᵃᵒᵒᵒ

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 37: Everything

I’m back-back-back, back again~! 🥴 Pedro’s hosting SNL, dominating media, claiming 2023 as his year, and I’m over here ready for some more Heat, baby 😁

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 19,500+

Summary: You’ve been each other's safe harbor, so when the spectacular circumstances that lead to the end of the Cali cartel's influence oust everything you have Javi had been looking forward to, can your gravitation survive the fallout of events?

Warnings: Javier Peña being the our flawed AF king. Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of unprotected sex. Mentions of hurt/comfort, resentments, toxic coping mechanisms, heartbreak and hidden motives. Descriptions of pining, light dom/sub play, cum play, size kink, praise kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to triggering events, vindictive behavior, foreboding threats, and emotional trauma. Some Protective!Javi, Dom! Javi, Sub!Reader, Wrathful!Javi. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 36: Pésame

Chapter 37: Everything

After the capture of Miguel Rodríguez, things seemingly fall into place, as if they'd always been planned that way.

You go into work the next day and hear about how Chepe Santacruz surrendered to the authorities and was taken into custody to La Picota, and by the following afternoon, after a purported massacre at a Norte del Valle ranch, Pacho Herrera is arrested at a church without incident.

All four Cali godfathers were in prison. By all appearances, the Cali cartel had been subdued and their operation had been halted.

Javier doesn't tell you anything to make you think otherwise.

Instead, he spends these days seemingly finalizing work on the case, but in reality, he and his agents are gearing up resources for the tracking and capture of a missing asset:

Guillermo Pallomari. The Cali cartel accountant. The only person left alive – and on the lam, who could decode the ledger and unravel Cali's web of influence – and hopefully keep all four godfathers locked up for real.

You know about Javier's plan to locate and secure the man into DEA custody, but you don't know why he seems so intent to do so without the assistance of CNP, nor why he's so sure he has to get Pallomari to ensure the government doesn't go through with the surrender deal after all. At one point, you'd assumed he would eventually tell you everything that transpired that day – the sequence of events that had left him feeling so demoralized after what should've been a celebrated success. But then days go by and he doesn't detail a thing.

Really, there's no true opportunity for you both to sit with everything and discuss it. Not with how busy you both are. Passing like two ships in the night. Only when you're in each other's arms are you figuratively at port, and even then, you relish the time making love and wanting to get lost in each other. During the mornings, you'd give each other brief updates on where you both were at work. Javi used the time to check in on you about things back in Medellín while you both got ready for the day. He'd assure you things were going fine on his end, and you wouldn't push him.

It was your chance to share a quick, unguarded moment – not to do a deep dive.

Javi wasn't really lamenting that. Not when he wanted to bury his feelings and tend to yours as best as he could.

It'd been easy for Javi to bury the details of what happened the day they'd caught Miguel Rodríguez, and while he sensed you hoped he would eventually tell you, he had chosen to obfuscate. To let you believe he'd moved on from it and discussing it now would only drudge the self-loathing and acrimony back up.

His ability to keep that to himself was made all the much easier by the fact you were trying to cage your own feelings up as well. Things were still raw for you, but you'd had to deal with your grief the best way you knew how – by bottling it up, and compartmentalizing it into the deepest, most secluded shelf within yourself. It was a necessity for you to do so.

Combined with the swiftly approaching deadline of Ellis leaving with Anita and her family to Puerto Rico, all of the upheaval of preparing for the departure at work, fiscal bureaucratic responsibilities needing your attention, and the obligations you have to deal with regarding your grandmother's estate, you simply have no room to let the sorrow take hold of you for long. Even when the realtor calls to let you know the apartment you'd loved was no longer available, you hadn't let the pang of sadness stew in you for more than a few seconds before you thanked her for the update and said you'd be in contact once you were ready to look at more places.

You'd mentioned it to him, but Javier had nodded and changed subjects. Choosing to treat everything not part of 'the now' as something neither of you should dwell on.

He chooses to act like he hadn't crumbled before you and needed your grace to stitch him back together, and when he quickly redirects away from himself and his work to ask about you and yours? Or when he scoffs at your mentioning of his "takedown of Cali" being the talk of the embassy, you don't take umbrage, especially with the latter. You know him well, and figure he's deflecting because boastful accolades make him cringe, and he'd rather take the shine off of himself and focus on your success.

After all, you have your own milestones to celebrate these days.

The pilot program has been a success, and with the close of this first round, you are touted by the ambassador for achieving such a formidable goal – and under budget. It's such a lauded achievement, that your department gets the proposed funding to add headcount and expand operations for the next fiscal year. And when you walk into the conference room for the big bi-annual interagency head of department meeting this very morning, you are surprised by the series of claps you receive when you come through the door.

Everyone congratulates you, shakes your hand, and share varying well-wishes for more to come for your department. The Mil Group and Centra Spike fellas especially shower you with cheers, and you are smiling irreverently as they propose a big happy hour get-together to celebrate for real when Javier comes into the room – in his dark gray suit and with the blue and gold-striped tie you'd steamed the wrinkles out of for him this morning – hair already tousled from him running his fingers through it in pent-up stress.

It's times like this you wish you could go to him and kiss the frown off his handsome face. But, instead, you all sit once the ambassador enters.

You can't help notice how Javi goes out of his way to sit closest to the door, and avoids Crosby's gaze. He swivels his nonchalantly about the table before connecting with yours briefly to then force himself to look down at his watch busily.

He's so tense. You internally frown, wondering if something big is about to go down at this meeting, which would explain why he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else—

The ambassador calls your name, and when you snap your attention to the head of the long, oval conference table, he smiles. "—Fantastic work, as always. State Department is so pleased, they're already trying to poach you from here! I hope if anyone over there tries to snake their way to you with a direct offer, you'll kindly tell them to buzz off," he jovially remarks and jokes, earning a few wry chuckles from around the table. He then directs his gaze over at Javier as he drawls, "And, as you all know, congrats are in order for Agent Peña and his team. Without his tenacity in capturing the Rodríguez brothers, the rest of the Cali leadership wouldn't have folded up shop. Great work."

Everyone claps to that, including you, and Javi tries his best not to squirm under the terse praise, forcing a half smile to the people sitting closest to him that pat him on the shoulders. You know he hates this, but there's something in his dark coffee-brewed eyes that is almost pained by the acknowledgement. But as quick as it was given, so was the attention diverted away to other bureaucratical topics.

By the end of the meeting, you intend to weave over to him and suggest having a one-on-one in your office, but the ambassador comes over and thwarts you. Once he's finished regaling you with some of the positive comments he'd received from heads in DOS, you look back and see Javier is long gone from the room.

This morning, he'd mentioned spending the day meeting with his guys in order to go over tactics for the Pallomari case, so you decide to risk the impropriety of going up to see him without an appointment as an excuse. Instead, you enter the DEA department with a to-go tray carrier with four coffees and a couple of creamers, stirrers and packets of sugar nestled in the center. However, when you find the secluded meeting room they tend to use for these hush-hush sessions, only Stoddard, Feistl and Van Ness are in it.

"Hey, fellas! I come bearing caffeinated bliss," you chime congenially as you enter, smiling brightly when they look up from the mess of papers and files strewn over the table and gawk at the coffee cups as you set them down on an uncluttered corner. "Where's your fearless leader?" you jibe as you hand Stoddard his cup.

"He stepped out for a quick call," Stoddard answers and eagerly preps his coffee with the cream and sugar he likes. He sips from his cup and practically swoons before he tells the other agents, "You guys, if you haven't had the director's coffee, you've been missing out."

The two junior agents are dressed casually, wearing jeans, sneakers, and well-worn t-shirts under very busy-looking patterned button down short-sleeved shirts. You don't see how Feistl ogles your hourglass shape as you're carefully removing the cups from the carrier to hand one to his partner before handing the other to him.

"It's not my coffee, but yes – it's excellent, and I wanted to give you my congrats on your successes, and show my appreciation by bringing you guys a little pick-me-up," you sardonically lilt as you hold out the tray with the creamers and sugars after you've removed the remaining cup meant for Javi.

"Thanks!" Chris gives you his most winning smile as he plucks a creamer and two sugar packets, along with a wooden stirrer, from the tray. His features are covered in dark stubble, and the Hard Rock Café t-shirt he has on under his garish palm-leaf print button down looks rumpled, like it'd been on the floor rather than in a drawer before he'd pulled it on that morning.

Dan politely takes the tray from you so you can hold the remaining cup in both hands less awkwardly, nodding his thanks and doing everything to not look at your cleavage thanks to his tall stature that gave him a perfect view down your sage-colored crepe V-neck blouse, even from his vantage point on the opposite side of the table. And when he pivots to place the tray down on a storage cabinet, his geometric-print button down shifts to reveal more of his shirt, and you notice the logo on it.

"Oh! Is that the Red Hot Chili Peppers?" you inquire, smiling wryly when he balks before looking down at his Blood Sugar Sex Magik shirt like he's just realized what he had on.

"You know 'em?" the tall man inquires with a charmed little smirk pulling at his pouty-pink lips, eyeing you now as if impressed.

"I mean, don't let the stuffy outfit fool you, agent. I have many a band shirt in my collection as well," you jibe and wink at him. "I saw them live once. Right before I came down here. I've been meaning to get that album," is your affable remark as you put a hand on your hip and continue in light conversation – expanding on the concerts and music festivals you've both been to, not noticing the amused glower Chris is shooting his partner at being able to chat you up like he's secretly wanted to for a while.

You do notice how Stoddard glances at the door behind you, and before you can turn, Javi is drawling, "Are you trying to poach my agents into the next round of your pilot, director?"

Raising your brows innocently, you turn and scoff, "Poach them? Never. No, in good time, you'll all be unable to avoid my department, and will fall in line just like everyone else."

Stoddard chortles into his coffee cup while Chris grins behind his hand and Dan flattens out his lips comically at your audaciousness.

Javier just grunts and gives you a challenging look, so you hold out the coffee cup and smile angelically as you chime, "I bring coffee as a show of good will. I'm gonna need it to convince you to let us on-board the rest of your staff before the year ends."

He accepts the cup and has to fight the impulse to pull you close so he can plant a kiss on your goading, rouged lips. Instead, he nods his thanks before inquiring, "Actually, got a minute? I wanted to go over something mentioned during the meeting earlier."

"Of course," you remark before turning and giving each of the men a smile goodbye. "Good luck, boys!"

While the three men remain in the conference room and exchange varying degrees of amusement – including Chris elbowing Dan and bouncing his brows crassly at him while Stoddard shuts the conference door, Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him in the hall as he directs you to a different room just off from his office. It's a small room with horizontal blinds giving privacy in a department with a lot of vestibule-styled conference spaces. It looks like it's been outfitted to be a make-shift audio equipment surveillance room, so the lights were low-lit when he flicked them on, and there were two swivel chairs tucked into place by the retrofitted work station.

As soon as he shuts the door, Javi plops the coffee cup down on the counter and pulls you into his arms before kissing you with all the bottled-up passion he'd been stowing since seeing you earlier.

Gasping a giggle, you pull back to saucily whisper, "Javier! This is much too risky—"

"I don't give a shit," he retorts gruffly and picks you up so he can whisk you to sit on the countertop, shoving a swivel chair out of the way so he can stand between your parted thighs. You swoon, feeling so aroused and titillated by his possessiveness, as well as his masculine scent and the heat of his body pressing up against you. "Been dying to kiss you," Javi husks as he paws his touch from your waist up to cup your face before burying his hands in your hair and tilting your features up so he can press salacious kisses over your cheeks, jaw, and neck while you pull him into you and stifle a breathy sound of delight. "Looking so fucking sexy, showing all of us up earlier," he husks after teasingly flicking his tongue along your bottom lip after you exhale needily. "Making my guys lust after you—"

You hiccup a scoffed sound before pulling back and giving him a sassy smile. "Oh my god, you're so ridiculous," you scathe sardonically and affectionately wipe your lipstick prints from his mouth. "Tan celoso—"

"Goddamn right, I am," Javi grouses in that gravelly pitch that makes you ache between your thighs for him. "You don't see the way they look at you," he murmurs heatedly, pursing his lips when you tenderly caress the back of his neck and hum amusedly. "I'm serious—"

"I don't care how they look at me. I only belong to you, querido," is your silky murmur, eyes sultry as you teasingly nuzzle his cheek. "Now, I don't want to keep you. I just came up to see why you were so grumpy," is your soft musing as he rests his forehead to yours and encircles your waist. "I know all the attention annoys you."

"…Just could do without the bullshit, is all," he rumbles in an even tone before shaking his terse mood off. "Thanks for the coffee and smooches, preciosa," is his purr now before he presses a doting kiss to the top of your hairline.

"Well, I didn't intend to smooch you, chulito," is your snicker as he leans back and grunts smugly at you. He has a blush-toned apricot lipstick smear on his chin, so you beckon him closer as you slink off of the countertop and smoothen out your pencil skirt. "Come here, and let me get you sorted so it doesn't look like I had my way with you in here," you drawl cheekily.

Javi chuckles and lets you swipe your thumb to remove the smear before you smoothen out his collar and straighten his tie. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he laconically quips, and you snicker irreverently before leaning up to nose his lapel, and end up huffing with a grunt. "What?" he asks when you lean back and pout.

"You got my perfume on you!" you admonish in a hushed tone and idly make sure you don't have lipstick smudged outside the line of your lower lip before scrunching your nose at him blowing a raspberry at your worrying as he brushes his fingers to comb your hair back into place behind your ears.

"I don't plan on letting anyone get close enough to sniff me, mandona," he jibes as he leans against the counter and picks up the coffee cup to take a long pull.

"I saw that room, chavón," you coolly drawl, adding with musing humor, "Not gonna be able to help smell each other once the coffee runs out."

He hums at that and showily pats his free hand down the side of his blazer to make sure he has his cigarette pack. "I'll have a smoke to camouflage your sexy scent," he rumbles in a canela-brined timbre before towing you with a hand at your hip to lean into him when you purse your lips at his plan. "I can't wait until everyone knows and we don't have to sneak around anymore," is his sincere mumble, leaning close so he can nose into the hairline at your temple.

"So do I," you murmur and lean back, eyes twinkling as you sigh, "Not much longer now."

Javier grunts, and leans his forehead into yours. "I might be late tonight, so don't wait up," he tells you in a smooth baritone.

You nod, wanting to kiss him so bad, but the risk of getting anymore telltale proof of your canoodling on him keeps your desire in check.

He lets you slip from his embrace, but gently caresses his touch to your cheek. Quickly, you turn so you can kiss the inside of his palm and give him a mischievous smile as you bat your lashes, hands teasingly skimming down to lightly graze your touch over his tensing abs as you purr, "Alright, Don Celos. Try and keep that in check so your guys don't get wise to you."

The searing look he gives you is too gratifying. "I'm outta here before I punish you for being such a sexy little atrevida," is his gruff drawl before picking up his coffee cup and exiting first to make sure no one notices you both breeze out and go your separate ways.

While you stride out and turn down the hall to make your way out of his department, Javier is already lighting up a cigarette and taking his time to make his way back to the small conference room.

By the time he's saturated enough of his person with the clinging smoky scent and is settling in for a long day of planning with his agents, you're riding down in the elevator, head full of daydreaming thoughts involving life after this last supposed hurdle.

Of course, that is quickly swept aside when your cell phone rings once you're about to settle in at your desk. The estate attorney reels you down into a heavy sadness as he updates you on the latest, and confirms with you the need to meet in person to sign documents and finalize things. With an upcoming bank holiday and other bureaucratical legalese you need to deal with, he suggests you taking a trip to Medellín and getting your family together in order to complete required steps for passing the property over to them. He offers to make himself available the next few days, so that spurs you into calling your aunt with the news, and after some more tender discussion about the house, you end up agreeing that flying down the following day and having the weekend to get these things done would be best.

Ellis is more than happy to cover things while you're away, so you book a flight and make it all the way home to Javier's at the end of the day before realizing he might take umbrage to you going out of town on such short notice. It nags you as you get out of your work outfit and put on a slinky purple housedress. And when you busy yourself with washing the dishes you've both let accumulate in the sink, it keeps needling you. It doesn't let up, even as you tend to the laundry that's piled up. The stress it conjures up has you ironing his dress shirts on autopilot while you ruminate.

You're so preoccupied with your thoughts about everything that when you're hanging up all the freshly ironed shirts into his closet, you absently bump your hand against a box tucked onto the top shelf, causing it to tumble down.

Managing to catch it with minimal fumbling, you scoff at yourself and are about to pop it back onto the shelf, but the wobbling weight of it and the rattling of the contents within grab your curiosity.

You've never really snooped through Javier's things. Well, there was that time you'd had to search for a hamper, and then hunted for those raunchy pantaleta keepsakes he'd squirreled away. But it wouldn't be too terrible to take a peek inside the box, right?

Pulling the lid of the shoebox open, you look in and find a few folded up visa documents, a laminated prayer card of the Virgin Mary, a glass paperweight with a painted-on relief of La Virgen Santa, a red-beaded rosary, a postcard-sized envelope, and three photographs. With a fawning sigh, you wander to the bed and sit, place the box onto the surface and carefully retrieve the photos so you can peer at them more closely.

Two of them are already familiar. Your smiling expression as you posed for the picture Javi took of you in Cartagena is mirrored on your face now as you look from it to the photo of you both lying side by side on the bed. That weekend floods back to you in warm memories that stir a tingle into your heart, making it skip a beat. But it's the third photo that has you fawning now.

Javi is smiling brightly in it while leaning against a green wooden barn fence. He's standing next to an older man who's wearing a white cowboy hat, standing as tall as Javi, but with a greying moustache. His features are distinguished, but exuding a warm easygoingness to him that you've seen the resemblance of in Javi's expression countless times. They're both wearing light coats and standing in what's obviously a horse pasture on the Peña ranch during a cooler season, considering the overcast sky in the background and the brown horse idling behind another barn fence within its paddock in the back.

"You wanna come to Laredo and meet my Pops sometime?"

Your heart flutters at the recall, and you smile fondly at the photo. The envelope gets your attention next after you return the pictures to the box. Retrieving it, you note the neat handwriting scribbled in bold penmanship on the front, with several stamps denoting it's come from stateside. You can't help smile that it's postmarked from Laredo, Texas, and after cataloguing the address and the name Jesus Peña, you return the envelope to the box and fawningly sigh.

Hours later, Javier drives down into the garage and parks in his spot, feeling dead tired. He lumbers out and makes his way up to his apartment, annoyed but rescind to the next phase of things he has to undertake the following day.

He's not looking forward to telling you about his plans to go to Cali.

No, he is begrudging the fact that all the planning of the day had boiled down to one conclusion: They needed Jorge Salcedo to help them locate the rogue Cali accountant. Feistl and Van Ness were reluctant to admit it, and Javi recognized their protectiveness as being the main factor for resisting recruiting the man into their last-ditch effort to keeping the Cali godfathers locked up permanently. It made sense, especially after the man and his family almost met their demise. They felt personally responsible for putting them in harm's way, so Javi had agreed to be the one to go personally to Salcedo in the morning to ask for his cooperation.

As he lopes down the hall from the elevator towards his door, Javier worries that he'll have to finally tell you what happened, in order to justify his somewhat covert operation in Cali. When he unlocks the door and enters the apartment, he finds the space dark, save for the ambient glow of the television. Once he locks up and sets his things aside on the credenza, he lets his eyes adjust to the dimness, and makes out your sleeping form, curled up on the couch. He approaches quietly so as not to startle you awake.

It looks like you'd put your head down on the armrest and simply dozed off unintentionally. Telling by the glass of water and the plate with half of a sandwich sat on the coffee table, he thinks it's safe to say that you'd decided to wait up for him after all.

"Cariño," he murmurs softly as he sits on the edge of the cushion and gently tucks wayward strands of hair behind your ear before brushing his fingertips along your jaw. You stir and hum as you unfurl from under the throw and adjust to blink up at him. "Sorry to wake you," is his rumble as he leans over to kiss your forehead. "I told you not to wait up—"

"I know," you sigh after you yawn and sit up, scooching close to him so you can curl into his side as he loops his arm around your waist. "How'd the rest of the brainstorm session go?"

"Not ideal…we have a plan, but we'll need to get Salcedo to help us. I'm going over to the hotel he and his family are being guarded at in the morning to get him on board," Javier tells you soberly, steeling himself when you pivot to look up at him worriedly. "We're going to Cali as soon as I get him to agree."

"Oh," you retort softly before pensively looking away and resting your head against his shoulder, trying not to get lost in the smoky scent clinging to his collar. "Ok…well, I guess we'll both have our hands full the next few days," is your musing remark. Javi grunts curiously, so you sigh and resist the impulse to cuddle into him protectively to instead sit up and look into his dark eyes as the glowing cast from the TV illuminates his handsome face. "The estate attorney? He called with an update; wants to take advantage before the bank holiday to finalize things, so I'm flying out to Medellín early in the morning," you pause when Javi's features tense up. "I'm sorry, I know it's short notice—"

"No, it's alright. I just wish I could go with you," Javi retorts as he rubs his palm along his cheek before pinching the bridge of his nose with a tired exhale. "I'll drive you to the airport—"

"Oh, you don't have to," you assure, but Javier shakes his head and scoops you up in both arms so he can pull you onto his lap and embrace you with a contrarian grunt.

"I'm taking you. Do you have someone picking you up once you land?" he asks and holds you close as you loop your arms around his shoulders so you can card your fingers into the back of his hair while he nuzzles your jaw.

"Since everyone will still be at work when I get there, I was going to just take a taxi—" you begin to reply.

"Not a chance," Javi mutters with finality and leans back so he can eye you, the authority of his glare so fierce that you feel a shiver skitter down into your tummy. "I'll arrange for someone to pick you up and drive you to where you have to go—" he starts to state firmly until you pout at him, so he assertively insists, "After what happened last time? Either you have an armed escort I trust, or you're gonna cancel and wait until I can travel with you. There's no way you're going without me ensuring your safety, querida."

You feel heat simmer in your chest before tickling a yearning burn down into your core, making you shiver slightly as you nod obediently and bite your bottom lip.

It shouldn't turn him on to see your breath hitch and features flush from how his intense, albeit provoking gaze gets you before he drawls almost goadingly, "Really? Not gonna argue with me?"

"Well, if you're going to be a jodón about it," you scoff and daringly nudge him as you shift to straddle his lap. He chuckles, eyes crinkling fondly at you as you loosen the knot of his tie with a sassy flare, undoing it while he caresses his hands to the small of your back. But then your gaze becomes sheepish, and you divert it to where you're working the buttons of his collar open. His hands cup the small of your back, and he thinks about how insufferable it'll be – being separated from you, when you lean close until your lips graze his, and whisper, "I wish you could come with me, too…"

He encircles your waist and kisses you, full lips capturing yours tenderly before pressing his forehead to yours. "I know, corazón," he sighs and just holds you, nosing into your hair and getting soothed by your soft perfume.

You hug him, nuzzling his neck, breathing his skin; melt into him when he starts caressing his touch along your sides. He kisses your shoulder where the housedress has slipped down to expose the round of it, and you tingle from the heat that zings down into your core.

The glow of the TV pulls the contouring shadows in around your face when you lean back to sultrily gaze at him before brushing your lips sensuously along his cheek. "I have a surprise for you," you purr and kiss the corner of his mouth, smiling when he shakes the lustful daze off in order to give you his undivided attention. "Can you guess what it is?" is your teasing lilt.

His brows arch as he leans back and stares at you before glancing around at the dark apartment. "Uh…did you clean?"

"Yes, but that's not the surprise," you chuckle and lean back to balance your seated position onto his thighs.

He grunts and eyes you curiously, until the ambient glow from the television catches on your silhouette, backlighting you. That's when he notices it, and his eyes flare up to yours.

"…Fuck me, querida. Are you bare under this little dress?" Javi husks, voracious gaze flicking back down your body to stare at the revealed swell of your breasts under the cotton fabric to see the unmistakable press of your hard nipples against it. And when his hungry stare ventures down to the hem, he realizes you've sat in a way to avoid pressing your crotch over him. His eyes flick back up to you and they're dark with lust, features carving into that smoldering look that makes want pulse into your center. "Show me," he orders in a low rumble that tickles excitement up your spine.

You nip at your bottom lip as you pull the hem of your slinky house dress up your thighs to reveal that indeed, you are completely nude underneath, and the lowlight provided by the TV illuminates the slick heat honeying your cunt.

He's enthralled by how wet and flushed you are for him already, admiring the soft curls on your mound and how inviting your glorious pussy looks, when you chime, "To your liking, mi patrón?"

Javier's eyes snap up to bore incandescently into yours as he sweeps you up against him and effortlessly stands, large hands cupping your ass and forcing you to squeal and loop your limbs around him as he rushes to take you to bed.

"After this morning?! Teasing me the way you did? And you still have the audacity to be a naughty little thing – showing me how wet with need your pussy is – asking if I like it?!" Javi is growling freshly as he bounds across the space before tossing you onto the bed. You exclaim with carefree delight as you bounce on the surface and scramble up onto your elbows to watch him hastily remove his blazer as he kicks off his shoes. "Tan chingona y coqueta, when you know how fucking wound up you get me—" is his surly snarl as he unbuckles his belt and swiftly discards it in order to hurriedly undress.

While he's not looking, you sit up to lean back on your haunches and shed your dress overhead and off before brazenly tossing it to sail in the air and land on his head. He snorts and turns when you laugh impishly and watch him flick the dress to the floor before he cocks a challenging brow at you.

"Come here," you purr and crook your finger beckoningly at him.

He does so, loping over while busily unbuttoning his dress shirt whilst eyeing you smugly as he nears. The bedroom is dark, and the only illumination is coming from the open opaque drapes. The window beyond them lets in the moonlit night that filters through the sheer curtains. You look like a sprite, sitting up on your knees, completely nude and alluringly gazing at him.

Once he's within reach, you snag the open front plackets of his shirt and tow him closer so you can dutifully tug the hem loose from his partially undone slacks, leaning in to brush soft kisses along his exposed sternum as you unbutton the shirt cuffs for him before pushing the garment off of his shoulders.

"I want you, hermoso. But I also want to take it slow so we can savor it, since I'm going to miss you so much," you murmur, staring up at him through your lashes as he shrugs the shirt off to the floor.

"You just don't wanna get punished after being a fuckin' tease," he rumbles puckishly and holds out his wrist so you can take his watch off for him while he smirks at you trying to keep your plush lips from pulling into a cunning smile.

"I love how you think being a bossy grouch in bed with me is punishment," you snicker as you remove his watch and scamper over to the foot of the bed to reach the dresser and place it on the surface. At Javier's charming chuckle, you turn back and watch him unzip his pants while he wryly shakes his head at you.

"Fine. I'll dominate the hell out of you some other time, then," Javi drawls in a gravelly tone as he sheds his slacks, then removes his socks one by one before tossing them in the empty hamper to stand in his gray skivvies with his hands on his hips. "Now, you c'mere," he orders in a grouse and smirks when you prowl like a tigress back towards him before sitting on your knees so you can hook your arms around his shoulders and lean into his warm, broad torso.

Pulling you against him more, Javi kisses you, relishing your little mewl of yearning as he claims your mouth voraciously with his own. He seamlessly hoists you up so that you can wrap your legs around him as he clambers onto the bed and balances you in his hold before easing up on the passion of his kiss to lay you on your back and hover over you. The moonlight and the glean of the city's lights illuminate your nude form now stretched out under him, and catches on his broad shoulders as he sits up to cup his hand between your thighs and touch your tingling center.

You hiccup a whimper when his fingers glide through your drenched folds before parting them. He groans lustfully, "Fuck, you're so wet," pausing to admire how the slick dampening your cunt gleams in the lowlight. He presses his thumb over the hood of your clit and grinds against it just right, just like he knows you like it, and watches you shiver with pleasure as you simper out a little noise of need. "Gonna make sure you come so hard that you soak my fingers, preciosa—"

"Mmph! Javi," you react to his declaration, clinging to him and trying to shove his underwear off with your feet so he can be totally naked and on top of you. "Oh, take this off—"

"I thought you wanted it nice and slow?" he taunts, slipping two fingers into your silken cunt. "Something about savoring it?" is his leering drawl as he curves his thick digits up to brush that spot you can't quite reach yourself, drawing out a moan from you. "Keeping 'em on is the only thing stopping me from railing the fuck out of you like I want—"

You arch and toss your hair back on a groan, blushing at how a new wave of arousal floods your sheath and makes the squelching of your cunt being finger-fucked by him even louder than your panting breaths. "You want that?" is your pitchy mewl as you tighten your grip on his biceps before undulating your hips in time with the plunging pace of his fingers. When his eyes narrow on your luscious smirk, you goad, "C-Can't control yourself any other way?"

His fingers are yanked from your eager pussy so quick that the needy whine that comes out of you has you writhing in flustered heat, but you jolt when he reels back, thinking he's going to leave you like this, but then see he's rushing to get out of his boxer-briefs. He's kicked them off and yanked you by your waist up into his lap in seconds, and before you can gather your wits, Javier is grinding you down on his throbbing, ramrod cock.

Your cry is of titillated hunger, feeling singed through by how the thick of him has stretched you so good while your yearning cunt clenches around him.

He groans, arms encircling your waist tight and keeping you flush to him as you bury your face in his neck. "Feels like you're the one who can't control yourself, malcriada," he husks against your ear, exhaling an amused chuckle when you squeeze your arms around his neck and protest with a weak hum. "Huh, that doesn't sound convincing, mi amor."

Oh, he's so damned cocky. You decide to get him back the way you know will have him caving to you instantly.

You clench your floor muscles around his cock hard and graze your teeth down the side of his neck before nipping the slope that connects to his broad shoulder, then suckle with a lascivious hum.

The world spins and your back hits the bed before you've finished blinking, and Javier has buried a hand in the back of your hair and fisted the strands possessively as he moans shamelessly before he snaps his hips back and slams his thrust full force into you. You see stars and arch as you cry out, nails digging into the backs of his shoulders as you cling to him.

His pupils are blown out when he plants his free hand next to your head so he can adjust the cant of his thrusts in order to barrel into you with abandon in this new angle that has his cock hitting the cluster of pleasure nested within you dead center, over and over until you are spun up into an incinerating orgasm.

"Fuck! Oh god-oh god—" you wail, completely lost to the throes of your climax as he prolongs it and watches you sob, "Jah-Javi!"

He bows his head into your chest with a snarl of accomplishment as you gush warm slick in your raucous release and whimper airily. His cock is pulsing with need, but he slows his pace in order to draw you down from the stratosphere of pleasure and start working you back up.

"Tan brava," he huskily growls against the valley between your breasts before he nuzzles your sweaty skin and trails his tongue down to trace the cup of your left tit, where he leaves a love bite on the swell of it. "Eres mía, tiernita," is his molasses thick purr before he nuzzles over to your right breast and suckles hard on your nipple.

Your pussy clenches around his throbbing shaft as your breath catches in your throat. "I'm yours, Javi," you drunkenly cry as you bury your hands in the back of his hair and arch into his mouth. "All yours," is your sigh when he frees your nipple and traces the tip of his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

Javi teasingly grazes his teeth over your studded nipple, earning a breathy gasp to catch in your chest. "Yeah, you are," is his velvety purr before he suckles the underside of this breast, then nips you lightly before soothing the bite with his tongue. It's a possessive show of dominance, and it makes your silken sheath clench around him.

When his gaze flicks up to you, his eyes are smoldering with desire, and you think he's going to fuck you with abandon. Instead, Javier adjusts so he can hook one of your legs over his forearm and hold you open to him as he rocks into you, then out, then back in – setting an exquisite pace, taking his time so he can feel his cock grind against every ridge inside of you. He wants to feel you pulse around him as he fucks you nice and slow – to watch you clench around him and get revved up into a titillated tizzy.

You grip the bedding and arch when his thrusts angle upwards, bringing him to rut against your thrumming clit in time with the plunge of his cock hitting your pleasure point nestled deep inside you.

Javi thinks he can hold out. That he can get you to climax again before he chases his own need, but you moan and gaze up at him in the throes of your pleasure before you reach for him and pleadingly grip his chest. The whimper you let out inarticulately beckons for him – to have him on top of you and his mouth claiming yours while he fucks you so good.

He gives into it. Leans down to capture your lips and delve into your hungry mouth as he gives into the carnal desire zinging through him. You passionately kiss him back, sucking on his bottom lip before mewling when he rapaciously drags his mouth away to suckle hard on your sloping muscle.

"Javi!" you cry out in ecstasy, overcome by the ravenous pleasure as his thrusts have you careening over the edge into another blistering orgasm.

Your pulsing cunt clamps down on him and floods over with your climax, stoking a ferocious pride in his chest at having you come apart so fiercely. But the moment you whimper rapturously under him and drag your nails down his back? Javi loses the tether of control and fucks into you with need, pace stuttering under the onslaught of his pleasure overtaking him as he comes hard inside of you, groaning your name hoarsely while in the height of his bliss washing over him.

The taut heat that flutters in you when he spills his release is amazing, and you moan a sated sound when he loses coordination and clumsily unhooks your leg from his hold as he collapses on top of you.

The sound of the air-conditioning kicking on muffles your staccato breath and his ragged panting against your neck, and the cool air soothes your scalding, heaving bodies as you both recover from the euphoric and sublime high of falling into bliss together so ardently.

Once he's able to think straight, he grunts huskily before propping himself up so he can nuzzle a path up from your neck to your lips, where he presses adoring kisses before smiling against your cheek at your satiated sigh as you languidly rub his sweaty back.

"Nice and slow is fucking hot," he husks puckishly before brushing his nose impishly against yours.

You giggle breathily and graze your teeth over his plush bottom lip before suckling the morsel with a sensuous hum. "Told you, guapito," you silkily murmur, earning a hum from him before he starts trailing kisses along your jaw. You comb your fingers through the back of his hair and let him kiss a path down your neck to the love bite on the slope towards your shoulder.

The heat of his mouth when he presses a tender kiss over it makes you tingle and swoon.

When he can move, he shifts up and off of you to lie on his back next to your nubile form, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose. You turn your head so you can kiss the top of his shoulder. He smiles, and you admire his moonlit profile, fawning over how handsome he looks when he's relaxed – savoring the post-coital serenity that gravitates you two closer to each other.

It remains while you both shower, basking under the warm water and your tender, soft touches.

While you dry your hair, Javier goes out to the living room to make a call. Once you're done and in your cozy robe, you find him on the couch in just the towel he'd tucked around his trim waist, finishing the other half of your sandwich.

"Oh, that's gone cold! I'll make you a fresh one, babe," you tut, but he takes your hand before you can rush off and pulls you in to sit on his lap while he shakes his head.

"Nah, this is perfect," he assures when he's done chewing his current bite. "All set for tomorrow. Trujillo will pick you up at the airport in Medellín—"

"I don't want to trouble him, Javi," you sigh, and he rolls his eyes before finishing the sandwich with two big bites. "Doesn't he have a shift to work?"

He grunts before swallowing. "Shit in Medellín is so low threat now that they've scaled back on hours, so a lot of the guys are picking up side gigs. I owe him big time, and he has the flexibility, so quit fretting," he drawls and gives you a cheeky squeeze before patting your thigh. "You get in bed. I'll shut things off."

Smiling, you relent with a musing hum and peck him on the lips before getting up and loping on tired, sore muscles to the bedroom. By the time Javier has shut the TV off, brushed his teeth, hung up the towel from around his waist onto the rack, and turned out the bathroom light in order to feel his way back into the semi-penumbra of his bedroom, he finds you sans robe and fast asleep on his side of the bed, illuminated by the dim nocturnal glow sifting through the sheer curtains. He snickers at the sight, figuring you must've been so tuckered out that you slid into bed with the intention of shimmying under the covers over to your side, and just didn't make it before dozing off.

He crawls onto the bed and eases himself under the covers next to you, and finds himself easily drifting off to sleep once you've snuggled closer to him and looped your arm around his waist.

The next morning, the rays of dawn filtering through the curtains slowly stirs you and have your eyes fluttering drowsily. Your cheek is resting on Javi's chest, and you realize he's awake when you feel his fingertips caressing lazily along the back of your shoulder. You stretch your legs and sidle against him, not in a rush to part with his warm skin.

"We never keep the drapes open. Waking up and being able to watch the sun come in, seeing the light warm you, was nice," Javi murmurs, timbre rough with disuse.

You hum, kissing his chest before tilting your face up to his while you glide your affectionate touch up from his side to his other pectoral. His eyes are warm pools of dark chocolate with flares of chestnut as the sunlight accentuates his handsome features. His tousled strands of hair that stand askew are earthy cocoa shades, dark brows relaxed while the stubble along his jaw makes a scraping sound when you cup his cheek. Your thumb sweeps over to trace his full lips after skimming over his moustache, and he grunts softly when you scratch affectionately at his cheek while you smile.

"It's not as nice as my view right now," is your smoky purr as you caress your fingertips up to trace along his brow before brushing them up his forehead to toy with the unruly whisps of hair fanning across it.

His eyes close and he sighs serenely, always soothed by your touch. You take advantage and lean up to kiss him chastely on the lips. Javi encircles his arms around you when you go to slink away, pressing you against him so he can chase your lips and deepen the kiss.

When he pulls back to comb his fingers through your hair and gaze lovingly at you, admiring how the sun catches in your hair and casts you in golden relief, you smile brighter, feeling that effervescent feeling of contentment that only Javi gazing at you so is able to stir up in you.

"I was thinking. Maybe we can take a trip – after everything here is settled – and you can take me to Laredo?" you find yourself blurting, then quickly becoming sheepish when his expression softens with surprise. "You know, take you up on your offer to meet your dad?" is your elaboration, and when his eyes crinkle in confusion, you scoff and smirk, deadpanning, "Ah, you don't remember that, huh?"

His eyes narrow in concentration and his brows scrunch together, but he still parcels, "Sure I do."

"Such a liar," you snicker before shuffling up against him to playfully bop him on the nose with your finger before gliding it down to his lips in order to trace his bottom lip when he pouts. "You said it when I brought your drunk ass home after movie night. Asked if I'd want to go to Laredo and meet you dad."

Javier wracks his brain, and can vacantly remember staring down at you in the elevator, and you smiling alluringly.

Before he can retort, you sardonically sigh and go to maneuver away. "Oh well, never mind then—"

Sparing a glance at the alarm clock and seeing there's ample time to spare, he rolls so he can be on top of you. "C'mon, drunk or not, you know that's what I want, cariño. We'll do it," Javi insists, soulful eyes lowering to your lips as he rumbles, "Let's do it."

When he leans down and tries to kiss you again, you chuckle and coquettishly turn your face, smiling when huffs. Tracing your touch down his neck to the hickey you left on him, you change the subject by chiming, "We should take advantage of being up early, stud. I'll finish packing, then make breakfast—"

"Fuck breakfast," he interrupts boldly and tosses the comforter back so he can sit up and pull you along with him. You squeal comically at being bare in the very chilly room, and cling to his warm form, which earns a smug chuckle from him and his hands to wander over you possessively. "C'mon, we have plenty of time," he drawls in a honeyed timbre that turns an octave lower when he grinds you down on his lap as he whispers, "Need to have you, querida."

Want blooms in your core and spikes arousal down into the clutch of your cunt as you feign absentmindedness. "Oh? How so, dulzón?"

His coffee-brewed eyes narrow and his mouth pulls into a cunning smirk. "I was gonna get on my back and let you ride me, but now that you wanna play, and pretend to be a silly girl?" he rasps in a dark pitch, the kind that rakes desire over you like sinful silk, and you feel yourself get shamelessly wet as he suddenly manhandles you onto your hands and knees on the bed, facing the wall.

Your breath catches excitedly in your chest as he hitches up behind you and spanks his hand down on your plump glute. "I'm gonna dominate the fuck out of you instead, malcriada," is his grouse against the back of your ear before he nips it lightly and ruts his cock against the tight cleft of your ass.

Yes, there's plenty of time for Javier to possessively fuck you on all fours while the early morning comes through the curtains, washing you in golden light as you arch before him and beg, "Oh please, please, please!" while he pounds your pussy from behind and grips his hands tight on you shoulder and hip. And he takes his time crowding over you to leave a fresh love bite to the back of your neck as he rails you so hard that you can't even hear anything over the loud squelch of your cunt being plundered jubilantly by him along with the filth he's growling gruffly into your ear.

"That's it. That's my girl. Fucking take it," he rumbles, tone assertive yet loving as he hammers his cock into you with rough abandon, getting high on the power you've allowed him to take, alight with how you moan and flood with warm slick and clamp around him.

He groans as you whimper desperately while mindlessly rocking your hips back and arching, features melting into the throes of ecstasy as you cry, "Javi!"

Your pussy ripples around his throbbing cock as you're propelled towards the precipice of orgasm, and it springs cloying savage need in him – pace becoming feral as he growls, "Yeah, j-just like that. Take it, fucking take all of it—!"

Pleasure tears you asunder into a blazing climax that has you tossing your head back and grappling to ground yourself as if you're grasping to not fall blindly into bliss for real, gripping his wrist at your waist and the pillow before you as you wail his name. The way you gush your orgasm and writhe has Javier primally triumphant. It's also his undoing, because he tries to soothe you by nuzzling your neck, but ends up wrapping his arms around you and chasing his own fervent release when you moan, "Give it to me, Javi."

His mind hazes over when he fills you with his cum and hunches over you, drunk on the high and lightheaded as you melt down onto your tummy and take him with you. You turn your head dazedly to seek out his mouth with your own, dragging your lips across his jaw and cheek before he hums into kissing you. Javi then nudges his head affectionately against yours and exhales an accomplished sound before curling you both sidelong to recover – sweaty and sticky as you both lie in post-coital repose, pressed skin-to-skin as you lounge in the afterglow.

The bliss of it – being taken apart by him and pulled back together by his doting kisses and adoring touches – is short-lived when he lifts his head enough to look at the clock again and groans. Not enough time. Never enough time…

It weighs on him, and while you both rush to shower and get ready, he finds himself reluctant to part with you, especially with the foreboding feeling pressing in on him.

Javier doesn't know where things will go today, or how securing Pallomari will turn out in the long run, but moreover, he doesn't know how he can reconcile the truth he knows – how the deck has been stacked against them from the start.

He doesn't want to tell you.

Even so, when he drives you to the airport, the truth of it sits like a weight on his tongue, but he endeavors to keep that buried down. So, when he pulls up to the departures entrance of the terminal, he gets out and chivalrously takes your bag out of the car in order to give it to you on the curb. Before he's finished placing it down, you've wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight and kissing the side of his neck before leaning up on your tippy toes in your leather flats to kiss him with unabashed love.

His hand buries in the back of your hair and deepens the kiss, pulling you into him by the small of your back.

The anxiety that springs up in your chest is lancing, and you internally admonish yourself as you pull back and caress his cheek. "I love you," you susurrate before melting a little when he leans down to press his forehead to yours, arms encircling you tight to him. When you nuzzle him and sigh, he holds on to you, not wanting to part, and you find that the worry needles up in your chest again, and it has you pleading softly, "Please, Javi. Please be careful. All of you need to watch your backs."

"Don't worry, querida. I promise, we'll be careful, and all this shit will be over soon," Javier proclaims, kissing you one last time before he forces himself to let you slip from his embrace. "I love you," he tells you, and you smile with genuine serenity, because you believe him.

You trust everything he's said, so you collect your purse and suitcase, playfully caress your touch to brush his hair back from his forehead, and lilt, "Buena suerte, agente."

He watches you stride off into the terminal, and once you're out of sight, he gets in the car and drives himself to the Hotel Centro Internacional, where Jorge Salcedo and his family are currently holed up, under DEA security protection.

While you make it through the terminal towards your gate after getting your boarding pass, Javier parks at the hotel and steels himself for a difficult conversation. He's not had much personal interaction with Salcedo direct, not since finding out during the San Jardín raid that he was the C.I. codenamed Natalia. And since, he's had his moments of trepidation about the man. Truthfully, he feels guilt for what could've happened to him had Feistl not insisted on storming the building. But the persistent part of him compartmentalizes the guilt and justifies the experience only lending itself to being a great motivator for convincing Jorge to help them locate Guillermo Pallomari.

And, once he gets the man one-on-one up on the terrace of the hotel to chat? As soon as he's confirmed that the paperwork is almost ready at the embassy and that he and his family will be on the first flight out in the morning, Javi hits Salcedo with the question.

"Guillermo Pallomari. You have any idea where we can find him?"

"No. Why do you need him?"

Javier details how the Rodríguez brothers gave 6 million dollars to the Samper presidential campaign, and makes it clear that without Pallomari testifying in the states – going on the record in order to generate new indictments, it's not likely that the Cali godfathers will remain in prison. Salcedo doesn't balk. If anything, he's exasperated, and makes it clear his top concern is about his family's safety. Javier thinks the man is going to hedge back – turn him down, but then, he looks him in the eye and tells Javier the biggest lead. That Pallomari's wife was having an affair with a man at her office. That the phones in the cartel safehouse he'd stashed Pallomari and his family had been tapped.

Then, he hits Javier with the question: "And he can keep them in prison?"

"We find Pallomari or the godfathers walk."

"You're not going to find him without me," Salcedo counters, resolute.

Javier can't help acerbically huff, before slightly smirking as he chuckles, "You're right."

Salcedo is resigned, but stressed. He tells Javier he's in, but wants to discuss it with his wife. So, once they head back down to the hotel room, Javier leaves him to it and calls the fellas with the update while he waits out in the hall. By the time he and Jorge are in the car, driving to the airport in order to meet Feistl and Van Ness at the cargo plane hangar to ride down to Cali together on a chartered flight, you're just landing in Medellín.

You exit the terminal and see Trujillo, dressed in plainclothes, with a light jacket that hides his shoulder holster and badge. He waves you down, and you hustle through the crowd to greet and thank him.

"—I'm so sorry Javier troubled you—"

"No trouble at all!" he assures and places your bag in the backseat before opening the passenger door for you.

Once you're in the vehicle and driving down to your appointment with the lawyer, you take the chance to call Javi and check in.

He's just finished securing the secondary charter to be on standby for the extraction in Cali when his cell phone rings. Signaling that he needs to take the call, Javi strides to the side of the open hangar and answers, "Peña."

"Hey! Just calling to let you know I made it in, boss man," you chime affably into his ear, and the tension in his shoulders subsides. "Everything ok on your end?"

"Yeah. Just about to board the plane. I won't be able to check in the rest of the time I'm down there," he tells you, hand on his hip as he paces. "I'll call you once we're back. It might not be until late, though—"

"That's fine. I want you to call and let me know you're all right as soon as you can," you insist, then sigh fretfully. "Please be safe, mi amor."

"I will, querida. You take care, ok?" he assertively rumbles, and when you hum in agreement, he husks, "I love you."

"I love you too, Javi."

"We love you very much, Peñita!" Trujillo shouts good-naturedly so Javi can hear, and he blows a raspberry while you giggle irreverently.

"Take care, and talk soon," you retort before you both exchange goodbyes.

He feels a little lighter after the call, and with renewed pep in his step, he rushes back into the hangar and is soon boarding the plane with the other three men.

The flight to Cali gives him a lot of time to think, and the closer they get to their destination, the more he can feel the collective tension amongst them.

So, as they begin their descent, Javier assures, "Once we step off this plane, whatever goes down is on me. We are way off the well-lit path."

Minutes later, they land in a provincial airfield with a single runway tarmac. Deboarding, they get in the waiting SUV Suburban and start prepping for the day – divvying up portable radios and handguns. Salcedo rejects Dan's offer to carry one of the pistols, and while Chris drives, Javier goes over the plan once more. As he details how they'll split up so they can try to track Pallomari's location via Salcedo's wiretap connections at the telephone company, you're just arriving to your grandmother's – well, now more officially, your cousin's soon-to-be-house, after finishing with the attorney. Your aunt is already there when you arrive, so you assure Trujillo that you'll be fine, and after you confirm some updates with him, he gives you his card with his cell phone number on the back and insists that you call him if you need anything.

You spend a while sitting in the kitchen catching up with your aunt about things regarding the house, the changes in the accounts for the utilities, and your plans for packing up things. The subject regarding sorting through decades of memories and personal effects starts to bog you down in the mire of overwhelming sadness when mercifully, your cousin arrives from work and gives you a needed reprieve. While your aunt makes an early supper, you and your cousin work around the house together, dusting and cleaning while you talk. Every so often, your mind wanders to Javier, and you have to quell the anxious worry that fizzles up within you. He's going to be safe. He said this'll all be over soon. Trust him.

What you don't know is that Javier is just linking up with his agents and Salcedo after successfully baiting Fredy Moya – who called Pallomari's wife and warned her of the DEA coming around asking questions and looking for her, and with the call he made traced to an apartment north of the city, they were on their way there. Unbeknownst to them was that the man would seek out David Rodríguez to trade information, and that with David torturing it out of him, it was now a race to get to Pallomari.

Parked on the street and remaining in the SUV as a lookout, Salcedo places his radio in close reach and takes the driver's seat as the agents head up to the apartment building in formation. Feistl takes the lead, with Van Ness covering him and Javier at their rear, making sure no one can sneak up on them. They hustle up the stairwell and locate the apartment door. With a nod of consent, Chris bangs on the door. They can hear muffled rushing and anxious chatter from within, so Javier gestures for Chris to try to enter. Finding it locked, he decides to kick it open, and once he does, Dan is at his side as they come in weapons drawn, shouting for Pallomari to put his gun down.

Javier breezes in between both agents with his DEA badge up, coaxing the harried man and wife to calm down, and assuring them he's there to help. Once the wife makes sure their sons are safe and closes the door to the bedroom, she and Pallomari warily sit in the living room to talk with the three agents. Really, it ends up being an exasperating session of haggling and semantics between Javier and Guillermo. He's barely keeping his patience – everything in him is simmering with the annoyance of controlling his temper while the man questions about what kind of house they'll get, even having the gall to say that his family are accustomed to a certain square footage. But when Javier tells him he has no option other than what he's presenting him, and that this is the only way to keep his family safe? Guillermo seems to get it, so Javier tells them to pack their things, but the wife – Patricia – begins to spiral. She rambles about needing a week to get her affairs at work in order, that they need to give them a week to get things organized, that she cannot just up and leave like this. Her voice gets harried and the more Guillermo tries to diffuse her, the more hysterical she becomes.

Before Javier's even realized it, his temper has boiled over, causing him to bellow, "Okay!" rendering the couple into stunned silence while Chris and Dan bristle where they stand at the ready. He realizes he needs to rein everything in quickly, so Javier tells Guillermo to go pack his children's things while he talks to Patricia. As soon as her husband is out of earshot in the next room, Javier hits her with, "I know about Fredy Moya. It's none of my business—"

"You're right. It's not your problem," she snaps back.

"You realize what happens if they find you?" he levels evenly. "And your kids?"

She flounders, getting frazzled, insisting she can't just leave without saying goodbye. That they're in love. Javier then tells her with finality that if she stays, she will die.

That sinks in. She nods and rushes to pack, to corral her two sons and hustle them to get ready to go while she hastily gathers belongings and shoves them into a suitcase. Javier feels that cagey tension ebb in him, but he knows there's still ways to go. Dan and Chris start pushing them to pack it up to leave, and once Guillermo snaps at his wife that they're done and there's no more stuff to grab, that it's time to head out, Javier radios in to Salcedo.

"We're on our way down."

Chris leads the way down the stairwell to the first landing overlooking the lobby and halts so Javier can sprint down ahead of him to get to the door and radio to confirm, "Salcedo, we're in the lobby now. Are we clear?" There's no immediate response. Javier attempts again. "Salcedo." Still no response, so he radios more adamantly, "Jorge, we clear or not?"

There's a pause before the radio engages. "All clear."

"Copy," Javier confirms before turning to the others and pressing, "All right, stay close."

Javier is the first out the entry door, and once the Pallomari's come out, Dan and Chris flank them to check both sides of the intersection before confirming nothing is amiss. Up ahead is the SUV. It'd been raining when they'd driven over to this part of the city, so the windshield was covered in condensation and water. The pavement smelled damp all around him, and there was no breeze. Everything seemed still – until the gunshot.

They all take shelter behind the nearest car at the opposite side of the street, huddling down at the curb. Javier ducks down and peers around it to see Jorge unload his pistol down into a man on the ground next to the open passenger door he'd seemingly fallen out of. Once the shooting stops, Javier bounds over cautiously and recognizes the now dead sicario to be Navegante.

Staring at Salcedo, he barks, "What the fuck happened?"

With his arms outstretched in a stance of compliance, Jorge gestures to Navegante. "He has the keys."

Without missing a beat, Javier looks over his agents and shouts, "Let's move!" before kneeling to scoop up the car keys Navegante dropped, tosses them to Chris, and rushes with Dan's help to drag the dead man's body away from the car to the opposite side of the street while Patricia screams at her kids not to look and Guillermo irately questions why Salcedo is there. "He saved your life! Get in the fucking car!" is Javier's barked response as he orders everyone to get in, shoving the nervous man to the back seat while Dan piles the kids to the back and Chris jumps into the driver's seat, with a stunned Jorge getting in behind him.

They're speeding off and away as the sounds of police sirens grow nearer. Javi spares a look at the side mirror and watches Navegante's lifeless body disappear with distance. The depraved, sadistic satisfaction he gets knowing the bastard who'd kidnapped you – that had been the triggerman-for-hire to every lowdown fucking cartel – had been gunned down and left on the wet pavement like he'd done to countless others? It should make him question his morals. But for once, Javi feels gratified, and is sure he'll sleep just fucking fine tonight.

The sendoff of Pallomari onto the chartered flight that would ferry him and his family stateside into DEA protective custody went seamless, all things considering, and once they were off the runway, he, Jorge, Dan and Chris boarded their waiting plane and headed back to Bogotá.

They're not even finished deboarding the plane when the unmarked SUV with the security detail ferrying Salcedo's wife and daughters arrives to board the other awaiting jet Javier had coordinated. Stoddard was in tow with their embassy documents, so with paperwork in hand, Javier ushers Jorge and his family onto the other plane.

"Chris and Dan are going to escort you. They'll see to making sure you all have everything you need," he's telling Jorge as he hands him the documents. "Take care of yourself."

Jorge shakes Javier's hand, nodding curtly. "Thank you, Agent Peña."

After huddling with Chris and Dan one last time, he shakes both their hands and pats them on the back before gesturing for them to climb aboard. "Stay in touch. My old partner, Steve Murphy, will meet you on the tarmac when you land," he tells them before joking to Dan, "Try and be more patient than I was with Pallomari."

"I can't make any promises, boss," Dan quips before hustling up the plane's stairs and ducking his tall frame in to enter the cabin.

"Thanks for backing us, boss," Chris tells Javi with a nod before he follows his partner up into the plane.

Javier rides back with Stoddard to the office and hears more great news.

"—David Rodríguez was gunned down in a drive-by, along with several of his associates."

Again, it shouldn't please him so viscerally to hear, but he feels the warm embrace of sweet retribution come over him, and by the time he gets to his apartment, only a few hours before dawn, Javi is buzzing.

Your cell phone rings loudly on the bedside table, and you groan, rolling over to face it when panic leaps up in you. Javi!

Scrambling up and reaching for it, you answer, "Hello?"

"It's done."

You feel a wave of vertigo before excitement punches it away once your anxious mind registers how teeming with exuberance Javi's tone is. "You got him?"

"Yes. He'll be in court testifying in a sealed grand jury in a couple of hours. My guys are escorting Salcedo and his family into witness protection," he tells you in a rush, breath stuttering before he rumbles, "It's done, everything I needed to do…"

Your heart soars, and the happy tears that crest your eyes dampen your lashes as you flutter them. "Oh, I'm so proud of you, Javi!" you gush, absently wiping at your cheek when a couple of tears drop. "You've worked so hard, have done everything – gone above and beyond to succeed and make a difference. You should be proud," you tell him, overcome. When he exhales tensely, you scoff derisively, "Oh my god, c'mon, chavón. Don't make the first thing I do when I see you be to wring your neck and browbeat you! You should be proud, dammit."

His husky, honeyed chuckle makes you smile. "I am, chingona! Just wish you were here. Dying to put my arms around you," he retorts with sincere, albeit crooning warmth. "I know it's late, so go back to sleep—"

"What're you wearing?" you interrupt sultrily.

Javi hums a gruff sound of protest. "Fuck, don't tease me like that, baby—"

"I want to know what you're wearing, guapito," you silkily press and lean back in bed, tingling from the heat of your arousal for him, still sore from the sexy romp that morning and now idly caressing the love bite he left on the sloping muscle connecting your shoulder. "Paint a picture for me."

His snort is rueful, but he answers in a canela-brined drawl, "I just got home. Wearing the same clothes from this morning: dark blue jeans, a button down – the one you said is nice and soft…"

"The chambray blue one?" you chime, pressing your thighs together. He grunts in confirmation, and you can hear him shuffle backwards onto a soft surface. You picture him stretching out on his bed.

"You wearing that sexy batita?" he husks ruggedly, which makes excitement flutter in your tummy.

"I wouldn't call it sexy, but yes – I'm in the batita, all alone in bed," you sigh, wishing he was there with you. That he was hiking up your nightgown and settling between your welcoming thighs. His huff becomes muffled by the heavy yawn he lets out. "Oh, I'm such a jerk. You haven't slept! Go take a shower and get some sleep, mi amor."

He grumpily hums, but you can hear the smirk in his voice when he drawls, "Alright, you wicked little tease. I'll call you tonight. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmur. "Goodnight, stud."

Javi chuckles. "Goodnight, querida."

You find out the breadth of Javier's successful raid later that afternoon when you and your cousin finish going to town hall and transferring over the utility accounts into her name. The covers of every newspaper on the newsstand tell of a violent night in Cali, of the DEA spiriting away sources who've turned evidence and testimony against the Cali cartel, of grand jury indictments and U.S. federal backlash to come against the Colombian government amidst charges of corruption.

And when you get back to the house? You are glued to the television as the evening news details how financial evidence presented to a U.S. grand jury implicated members throughout all echelons of government – public officials throughout the entire country – as being on Cali's payroll. And when they splash a bulletin that alleges possible knowledge of said corruption within the halls of the Nacional Palace and that the surrender deal was entertained for so long in bad faith? Your mind flashes to how distraught Javier had been after capturing Miguel Rodríguez. Did he know? That the corruption went all the way up to the President? Is that why he was so disillusioned—

The ringing of your cell phone makes you jump, and you rush to quickly retrieve it from the coffee table and answer it.

"Hey, corazón. How are you?" Javi's rich baritone washes over you, subduing all the questions that had been galloping wildly in your mind.

"Better, now that you've called," you tell him honestly, smile clear in your voice. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. Everything with the house go alright?"

"Yeah. I just have an appointment in the morning to transfer a few more things. I'll have to come back soon to start packing things up and seeing what we should donate, what they'll want to keep in the house, and what will go in storage…" you feel a lump start to tangle in your throat, so you clear it and sink back into the couch. "I was just watching the news."

"Hmph, yeah. I got a meeting with Crosby in the morning about it," he mutters, and you can make out the click of his lighter before he inhales and puffs out the smoke from his freshly lit cigarette. "What time is your flight?"

"Not until the afternoon, and I figured you'd be busy, so I'll take a cab," you tell him, and at his grumble, you tut, "Nope, I don't want to hear it. Trujillo was a great escort, but now that you've effectively nailed the Cali cartel for good, I think I'm free and in the clear of ever getting snatched up—"

"Not by the assholes from before, no. They're dead," Javi tells you in a tone he's never used with you before. It's a mixture of cutting and gloating, and it raises the little hairs on the back of your neck. He seems to catch it, at least by how he reproachfully huffs at himself. "I'm sorry, that wasn't right—"

"They're dead?" you ask, the macabre curiosity prickling you to know more as you sit up straight.

Javi hesitates, annoyed with himself for being so callously flippant. He sets his cigarette down on the lip of his ash tray and scrubs his fingers over his moustache before dragging them down to his chin. "Navegante? I saw it happen for myself. He got taken out…and the little fucker who'd ordered it, David Rodríguez – he got killed along with a few of his guys in a drive-by," he tells you, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. In a low, bass-pitched baritone, he confesses, "I only wish I could've been the one to pull the trigger—"

"Javi," you breathe out, pitch tremulous. "It's over. We don't have to worry about them anymore. You kept your promise, and now it's done. There're just good things to look forward to, and it's up to us what we want those things to be," is your assurance, and hearing it said so concisely but with so much hope fills Javi up with your loving, protective grace. "I love you, Javi," you susurrate, and he exhales in relief, eyes closing as your words wrap around him.

He says your name with amorous feeling before telling you, "—Te amo con toda mi alma. So much so, that as soon as we can, I'm taking you home. Want you to come to Laredo with me, because, well, fuck – I'm going to need a vacation after all of this, and I can't be without you."

Your effervescent laugh is charmed and loving, and it makes him feel so deserving. That he's done what he needed to, and is now worthy of the life he wants to build with you.

"I want the same, Javi. I can't wait," you retort, the cheeky smile evident in your tone as you add, "And I can't wait to get my hands on your baby pictures, finally!"

He laughs, and it feels so good to laugh after everything, and even though he sees some heads turn towards his office, he doesn't care. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa."

"Good luck with Crosby. Bye!"

Javier feels like he's free of the proverbial albatross he'd hung around his neck since he'd agreed to come back to Colombia. All the acrimonious fury, the stress, the failures and disenchantment haven't gone away, but have become less potent within him. The loathing and doubt go quiet, allowing him to tie up bureaucratical matters in regards to the Cali cartel investigation, and by the time he's getting ready the next morning to head to the embassy and meet with the ambassador, the hope he feels sits prominently in his chest, pushing him forward – holding out that full justice will be served to all who deserve it.

But, of course, nothing is as it seems, or goes as it should.

Crosby comes in smug. For some reason, Javier knows immediately things are not going to go as he'd hoped.

"Y'know how many times I've gotten a call from the Department of Justice and State the same morning?" the man drawls, pausing to smirk as he adds, "Count 'em on one finger. Guess we have you to thank for that." Javier glances down at the conference table, already steeling himself for how this is going to go. "I'm headed over to the National Palace right now to make it clear to President Samper himself that the godfathers stay in jail. At least for the foreseeable future."

"But that's as far as it goes?" Javier queries, and when Crosby narrows his glacial stare on him, he forges on with, "We drew up a draft indictment outlining President Samper's ties to the Cali cartel."

"Alleged ties," Crosby counters, expression sharpening as he presses, "And I suggest you keep that draft to yourself. The DOJ's not going to topple a government, Agent Peña."

Javier's expression hardens, and when he has no retort, Crosby gestures glibly as he goads, "You can't tell me you're surprised by that."

"Some part of me was holding out hope, I guess," he rumbles, hands folded together over the table to keep them from fidgeting in his perturbation, left thumb tapping absently while he trains the muscles in his face to remain as stoic as possible. But his jaw has been ticking – corner of his lips twitching against the deep scowl that wants to take over his features.

Crosby is snarky as he lopes around the conference table, gesturing wryly at Javi as he simpers, "Well, you should tell that part to grow the fuck up." Javi is forced to keep his gaze low, for fear of giving the man the furious look that speaks volumes for how he currently feels. His lips purse as the ambassador drawls, "No, I mean it, Agent Peña. You should be happy. You played the system like a goddamn fiddle."

Javi looks up at him then, head slightly cocked to give him a sidelong glance as Crosby gives him a resigned, musing smile. "You won," he tells him, good-naturedly pattings Javi on the left shoulder as he rounds behind him, and makes his exit.

Disillusioned and debased by the conversation, Javi mutters distantly, "Yes, sir."

He's alone when he says it, the ambassador long gone and not intending to pay the DEA country attaché any more of his time.

Or so he thinks.

The entire exchange demoralizes Javier all over again. But now, it's far more denigrating, because he's being told that his complicity is expected. As if he has no choice in the matter. That everything he'd undertaken, every decision and outcome truly had not mattered, because it'd long been decided that sacrifice and injustice were the small prices to pay for corruption, greed, and political dominion – that everything was fungible as long as those with the right authority did what they were told.

He was supposed to take the win, look away, and move on.

It takes the entire smoke break out at the embassy steps, looking faraway as he stares vacantly at the street beyond, to make his decision.

Javier would not be complicit.

After making two calls, he drives over to El Tiempo, and meets with Carolina. She has a tape recorder, and after she sets it down and warns him of the consequences that will befall him once he goes on the record, she tells him concernedly, "You're going to pay a price."

With an unruffled, albeit ruminating look, Javi tells her, "Press the button."

The story is able to run by the evening news. El Tiempo drops the issue within less than a couple of hours of Javi's interview, and by the time he gets back to the embassy, all hell has broken loose in the DEA. Calmly, Javi finishes clearing out his desk, and manages to keep his stoic ease as Stoddard rushes in with a flurry of questions, updates, and a demand from the ambassador's office that he report upstairs to him immediately.

"—What's going on, sir?! Is it true?" the young man exclaims, about to unravel a litany of questions when Javi holds out his hand.

"You were a great deputy, Stoddard. Thank you for all your work."

Neutralized, the man dimly shakes Javier's hand, and watches as he places his cell phone and satellite phone on his desk before exiting his office in order to go up to the ambassador's.

Now, it's Javi's turn to be glib.

He has no illusions. Nor has he thought beyond this point about what happens next. But as he sits across from Crosby, and goes through the motions, he is so resigned to his decision that he can't allow himself any thought further on what this means for him.

What this will mean for you.

"I want you gone, Peña. So do the Colombians."

Javier's faraway as he nods and replies, "I understand, sir."

There a terse, resentful pause between them before Javi gives a curt nod and stands, beginning to exit towards the door.

"You know…any aspirations you had for your career…just got dragged behind the barn and shot," the ambassador levels, almost ruefully, at Javier.

Turning, Javi weighs that, lips slightly parted musingly, before he retorts, "I resigned from the DEA this morning."

Crosby looks taken aback, and with one final once over, Javi turns and resumes his exit, without a cursory glance backwards, as he leaves. He returns to the DEA department only long enough to grab the box filled with her personal effects, and exits out the side door to avoid the chaos he's unleashed as staffers field calls from counterparts at DOS and DOJ.

You're completely oblivious as you exit the gate with your carry-on suitcase and purse. Swinging the strap of your purse to be cross-body over your silver silk blouse, you're hurrying through the crowd in the terminal to make it out and grab a waiting cab, eager to get to the embassy, catch up on some work, and then rush home to shower Javi with celebratory kisses and hugs. As you round towards the main causeway of the terminal, where amenities like the newsstand, airport bar and lounge, and giftshops are, you've just pulled out your cell phone and turned it back on. You start when it begins to ring immediately, so you slow in your rushing pace and answer.

"—Holy shit, girlie! Where are you?! Did you just land? I've been trying to call—"

"Whoa! Yes, I just got off the plane. What's going on?" you query, feeling trepidation well in you at how harried Ellis sounds.

"You gotta get to the embassy. Shit just hit the fan and it's pandemonium here after the news broke—"

As you hurriedly resume your pace and listen, your gaze fans over the newsstand you're about to pass when you stop dead in your tracks, almost bumping into other hustling passengers as they now breeze by you. Every single newspaper's cover overrides your previous thoughts. But it's the El Tiempo headline that sucker punches you.

"—No one knows what's going on and the rumors are insane—"

"I'm on my way, Ellis. I gotta go!" you tell him quickly and hang up as you shove the phone in your purse and retrieve your pocket book to fish out enough money to pay for a copy, tell the man to keep the change, and snag the issue of El Tiempo up as you now bustle with your things towards the exit.

Once you're in a cab, you skim the intro of the story while you anxiously dial Javi's cell phone. It rings as if the call cannot be completed, so you try his satellite phone, then his office phone, and when none work, you call his apartment number. It rings and rings, but no one answers. What's happening?!

Unable to do anything but be ferried to the embassy, you vacantly stare down at the article before the analytical part of your mind takes over, skimming through.

By the time you arrive at the embassy, you feel like you're in an alternate universe.

Highest-ranking DEA official goes on the record…

U.S. government complicit in knowledge of rampant corruption withing Samper administration…

Tapes reveal how a campaign contribution of six million dollars went into the Samper presidential campaign, funneled by an art dealer acting as a liaison between the current president's staff and Gilberto Rodríguez in exchange for virtual immunity…

DEA country attaché Javier F. Peña went on the record with this reporter to disclose the U.S. government's lack of interest in holding Colombian officials accountable for flagrant corruption….

When you enter your office and ditch your belongings, Ellis gallops in. "Jesus Christ, kid. What the fuck is going on?!"

"I'm going upstairs," you tell him as you rush around him and head to do just that, calling over your shoulder, "I-I'm going up and asking him what happened—"

"He's gone."

Your leather-flat-clad-feet skid as you pause in the middle of the department's workspace and whirl around, not believing you heard him right. "What?"

"We just heard. Javier resigned from the DEA this morning. When the news about the article hit, he went up and told Crosby, and then he left," Ellis tells you haltingly, as if the information will cause you duress.

It's then that you feel the eyes on you. Devon and Jackie peer over from their stations, and the techs who are at their cubicles try to divert their gazes when you fan your stare about.

The world shrinks in around you.

Rushing back into your office, you yank out the copy of El Tiempo from your purse and look for the reporter credited with the interview.

Carolina Álvarez.

Your mind inundates you with recall after recall. The business card with her name on it that had been on Javi's coffee tables so many months ago. How cagey Javier had been when you'd pressed him on talking to a reporter for leads. It all shakes loose into jigsaw pieces that fall into place, allowing your mind to come to some troubling, horrible conclusions.

Javier never gave said conclusions thought. Didn't think about what would happen now that he'd committed career suicide, albeit with a reprieving flourish of quitting before going on the record and napalming things.

In all honesty, he'd been so brought low by the ambassador this morning, that he hadn't thought about what would happen now that he was out at the embassy, or how any of this would affect you.

All he knows is that he has to be out of the apartment in forty-eight hours, and he figures it was only a matter of time before the Colombians revoked his visa. He was wondering if they'd do it immediately and send CNP to collect him and deport him back to the states when he hears the key going into the lock of the front door.

Snapping out of his stupor and standing from where he'd been sitting on the bed while dimly sorting through his important papers he keeps in a shoe box, Javi hears the door open and the rushing footfalls over the jangle of keys as you burst in.

"Javier!" you call out as you drop your purse and keychain to the counter to sprint through the apartment.

You come to a halt in your frenzied pace as he appears in the doorway of the bedroom.

He's sans his blazer and tie – dress shirt rumpled with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The look in his eyes is haunted, and he vacillates, tense and conflicted before you.

"Javi, what happened? What the hell happened?!" you exclaim, incredulous and shaken as you stalk towards him. "They're saying you quit—t-that you quit your job this morning, and that you leaked things to the press—"

At your harried expression, Javi approaches you now in order to explain himself, hands slipping around you in attempt to ground himself. "I know, I'm sorry…everything's happened so quick. I'm sorry for not telling you first—"

"It's true?" you shy away from his embrace, staring in shock. "After everything…after all that's happened, everything we've talked about…how could you do this?" Your eyes plaintively stare at him, and when Javi diverts his gaze shamefully, you snap. "You quit before you went to that woman—that reportera, because you knew you were going to do this? Why? Why would you do this?!"

"They gave me no choice! After everything – they were going to let the government walk after they took a fucking campaign payoff from Cali for blanket immunity!" he exclaims, tempestuously smacking his palm into the wall as he shouts, "They wanted me to be complicit and ignore what they've done—what they'll continue to do unless they're stopped and held accountable!"

You are dismayed and left reeling, truly stunned into disbelief.

"You just destroyed everything we had here," you exhale, backing away from him. "Did you always know you were going to do this? Were you biding your time until now?"

"What?!" Javi is aghast. "No—"

"You've been talking to that reporter since the beginning! And now she's the one you go on the record for, and firebomb your whole life here without even thinking of letting me know?!" you accuse, hands curling into fists as you begin to shake with your fury. "You've never intended to do this—to make a life together, did you?"

"That's not true!" Javi shouts and rushes forward, but you back away and shake your head at him. "Goddammit, that's all I've cared about—"

"You didn't even tell me what happened after you caught Miguel Rodríguez, because you knew since then that you were going to do this. That if things didn't go the way you dictated that they should that you'd expose it all, at the cost of your fucking life here! You knew that no matter what, there was nothing else you could do to force the issue aside from hanging yourself out to dry—to sacrifice your fucking career and make yourself the goddamned martyr, without ever thinking about what would happen to us! What would happen to me," you pause, tears catching in your throat as you waver in your upset whilst Javier woefully flounders before you for what to say. "I trusted you, and you didn't trust me to be honest with what you were doing, with what your intentions were and what you were willing to do to get the results you wanted—"

"No, dammit, none of that is true! I never intended to do this," he tells you emphatically, and you scoff, furious now as you rush past him to the bedroom, smacking his hands away as he tries to stop you. "—Wait, wait! Please, just listen to me, querida!"

Javi whirls and follows you, quickly becoming disheartened when he sees you retrieve your duffle from the closet and start yanking items from hangers to be tossed in a pile on the bed. "I don't want this! I never meant to hurt you or not think about how this would affect you—"

"THAT'S EXACTLY IT! You didn't THINK about me or how this would affect me!" you scream, vehemently incensed as you rail, "Did you think I would drop everything for you and follow you home?! Abandon my life here and just shack up with you in Laredo until you decide that's not enough for you either?!" Irate now, you level him with, "That I would give up my entire fucking life here – throw away everything I've worked for and leave the only family I have left that matters to me – all because you don't care about your own fucking reputation or career over your immature moral principles about what should happen in a country that's not yours?! How dare you presume to tell me about complicity when you think yourself above all authority enough to discard the people around you in the fallout of your fucking decisions!? You're complicit in forcing an issue that was not yours to mandate! You did your fucking job, but you want to be judge, jury and executioner! It wasn't enough to take down the cartel and take your retribution. Doing your job successfully and coming home in one piece wasn't enough. Oh no, not without you deciding to do everyone else's job, and fuck the consequences—!"

Javier stands there, shoulders slumped, gaze wilted and expression downtrodden as you tear him asunder, and when your voice cracks, you whirl away from him to hide the tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and feel them roll down your cheeks. You resume shoving the items you'd retrieved from the closet into the duffle before fumingly going to the dresser drawer and hefting everything out of it to be unceremoniously thrown in the bag.

"I love you so much…please, I don't want to lose you."

You pause with your back to him after shoving the last of your belongings housed in the bedroom into the duffle. His proclamation was the most upset you've ever heard him, and it hurts your heart, but you find yourself shutting that part of yourself off now.

"Why did you do this. Tell me the truth," is your shaky demand, voice thick with your resoluteness.

He doesn't know the answer. Not the right answer that will keep you there. But he has to try, so he breathes out a tense exhale before blurting, "Because I couldn't live with myself if I let them get away with it."

It hurts. Somewhere within you – that you've walled off now in order to preserve yourself from the devastating fallout, something tender – withers and dies at his answer. Because it's not that simple, and it kills you that he would feel that way. But it also devastates you to know being with you wouldn't be enough for him to hold his head high and know he'd done enough.

"I understand."

The flat, hollow response creates an ache in his chest, propelling him forward. "Querida—"

You hastily shove the duffle flap shut and zip it closed before whirling on him when he's approached you from behind, desperate to pull you into his embrace. But you keep him at bay by swinging the duffle as a buffer between you, and then pivot around him to exit the room.

"Fuck's sake, please stop!" Javier thunders, and you made it to your keys and purse before you halt in your retreat. "I didn't think beyond resigning and sitting down for the interview. I didn't care anymore, because everything that's wrong here isn't just with the cartel or the administration. I've been a part of what's wrong, and I couldn't let it go on. But that doesn't mean I wanted it like this. I never wanted anything else but the life we've talked about – I still do! I just wanted to be worthy of it—"

"You're never going to be satisfied. Whether things change here or not, it was never up to you," you cut in, voice hushed but scalding with your repressed anger. When he doesn't say anything, you wipe at your face and turn to stare at him, and Javi's heart breaks at seeing how bereft you are. "It was Medellín, then Cali, and after it'll be something else – someone else you burden yourself with taking down, no matter what it costs. You still think it's all on you—I see it in your eyes. Even everything you did today, it wasn't enough. Nothing will ever be enough," you pause when your breath stutters and you swallow down what you want to say; what's booming in your head.

I'm not enough for you.

"No matter what, you will never be content, and you'll keep lying and omitting what you really feel, hide the things you believe you need to do. Because you don't want me to know or have a say—"

"I swear, on my life, that's not what I want!" Javi adamantly swears, moving to excise the distance that's suddenly eroded the gravitation between you. "I just wanted it to matter—"

"And I hope it does," you whisper as you mechanically grab your purse and keys from the counter, unable to look at him any longer. "But I can't do this anymore…I've had enough with not being enough."

Javi is decimated, relegated to standing on locked legs as his throat constricts and a devastating pang wreaks through him at your words.

You dazedly work two keys off of your keychain and leave them on the counter before turning to the door, going on autopilot as you exit with your belongings and don't look back.

At the sound of the door clicking shut, Javier's breath stammers raggedly out of him, and before he's realized it, he's sunk down to the floor and propped his back against the wall, taking his head in his hands as he tries to reconcile all the damage he's done.

"You're going to pay a price."

He doesn't know how long he sits there, but when he dejectedly looks up, his apartment is dark, the haze of twilight heavy in the space. It's an even longer time before he snaps back into himself, having gone into a bit of fugue state after his mind walls up his heart, for fear he'll fall apart under the weight of everything tangling around it.

By the time he's had a cigarette and stared out into the void of the bustling traffic of the avenue under a starless night sky from his open bedroom window, Javi hears it.

The self-loathing creeps in like an old friend, ready to tell him all the truths he's chosen to ignore about himself.

It was only a matter of time before she saw it. Everything she said was true. You just couldn't see it for yourself. You never wanted to. Because if you did, you'd know everything was pointless—

The phone in his apartment rings. Javi is so out of it, that it takes him a moment to register it and turn from the open window in his bedroom to lope out into the main room and answer it. When he does, he irrationally hopes it's you, and it weighs like a stone in his chest that quickly drops into his stomach when it's not you.

"Jav, what the hell is going on, man?"

It was Steve. Only Steve. You ruined everything with her, because you don't deserve her—

"—Just what the fuck did you go and do now, Jav?"

His partner did always have a way with words. "Sounds like you already heard."

"Leave it to you to take a big win as a failure of epic proportions…"

They talk for a while, and mercifully it's not until close to the end of the call that Steve asks him.

"What about her? How're you going to make things work?"

"Well…I'm not. It's over," Javi mumbles, hoping saying it himself would lessen the blow, but it doesn't. If anything, it makes him want to crawl inside of the whiskey bottle he's currently overpouring himself a glass of, and never come back out. He gives Steve the cliff-notes of what happened.

The first glass of whiskey goes down like nothing, and when his former partner asks what triggered him to think things between you both were totally FUBAR now, Javi tells him while he pours himself a double to try and take the edge off. The more he drinks though, the more he volunteers, telling him how things came apart at the seams between you earlier, and the loathsome part of him grinds it deep – the feeling of being adrift.

"…Like you said, there's still loose ends. Even if shit hadn't gone down the way they did today, I'd have to be gone, work stateside for a while until all the indictments and cases were in full swing—"

"Javi…listen to me. You fucked up. Royally fucked up here. But you can't just walk away—"

Hackles rising at that, Javi growls, "I didn't walk away. She did, and I can't fucking blame her, and I can't fix it—"

"You let her walk away. You didn't fight for her, didn't give her a reason to believe you wouldn't do this shit again. She's given you chances before, right?" Steve presses, and Javi reluctantly huffs. "C'mon, man. She's worth it, and you're going to hate yourself if you don't try…"

While Javier grapples with his guilt and how to move forward, you're completely drained, lying on your bed with only the lamp on your nightstand on. It's been hours since things had gone sideways without warning. That seemingly everything you'd been working towards in your personal life had dissolved – sifted through your fingers like they'd never truly existed.

Ellis had called you, but aside from telling him you were alright and would see him the next day, it was crystal clear that you didn't want to talk, so he'd let you off the phone, and you'd been thankful.

Now, once you've forced yourself to get up from wallowing to start unpacking your suitcase and duffle, you allow your mind to go blank and concentrate on the mundane task.

It's a while later when you're mechanically finishing with the ironing for all your rumpled work clothes from the duffle bag, and you've just gotten done sorting everything into the closet, that you feel a bout of profound, unsettling emptiness.

A knock at your door startles you out of your vacant daze. Tiredly, you pad on bare feet down the hall, dimly thinking it might be your downstairs neighbor checking in after you'd gone so long without staying at your apartment.

You don't expect to open the door and find Javier standing in the lowlight, eyes red-rimmed and still in his clothes from earlier. The five-o-clock shadow on his jaw and cheeks is darker now, and so are his eyes as he stares at you with plaintiveness from under his brows. Disarmed, you look up at him forlornly.

"Most of what you said? You were right. But you were fucking wrong when you said this isn't enough," Javi is blurting out to you, pressing a hand on the doorframe and the other on the door itself in case you try to slam it shut in his face. When you just stare at him with incomprehension, he insists, "I think you're scared of what this could be, and what happened today is your excuse for breaking things off—"

"…Excuse me?" you hiss, balking up at him. "Are you fucking drunk?"

"No!" Javi snaps and rails, "I don't fucking expect you to give up your life here. I never even asked you to do that! You always say my job isn't me, so why are you fucking pushing me away like this?! I love you, goddammit—"

You are floored by his audacity, and Javier notices too late how your shoulders wind back with fury and you level him with a seething stare. "You have the fucking gall to come over here and put this all on me, again?! Like you always fucking do?!" is your slashing accusation, truly irate now as you shove him back from the threshold of your door and harangue, "The one who is scared here is you, you fucking cabrón! You show up at my door after everything you've put me through? Not just today, but over and over again the entire time I've thrown in with you?!"

Javi's expression sets into a hard mask, but his tone is teeming with suppressed angst as he draws out between clenched jaw, "We can make it work. You're pushing me away before we've even tried—without even trying to give me the benefit of doubt. You automatically decided I'd been lying to you. Didn't even give me a chance to explain—"

Incensed, you excoriate, "Explain?! That you poured your guts out to another woman on the record without a single thought about what would happen or how that would demolish everything we've planned together?!" You're spiraling into a level of rage you've not been at in a very long time, and before you can lose yourself to it, you scoff, hold out your hand, and demand, "Give me back my key, and leave."

That sobers Javier up.

He digs into the left pocket of his gray slacks, retrieves his keychain, and fumbles to remove your apartment door's key from the bunch. "I'm going to keep trying. I'll keep trying, and I'll hold out until you talk to me and give me another chance," is his hushed growl as he plucks the key from the ring. "I'll tie up loose ends on Cali and then we can focus on making this work, and talk about—"

You snatch the key from his fingers and sneer, "There will always be loose ends. Always something else to justify your impulsive, destructive fucking whims, and I've had enough of it. Just pretend I'm a loose end you can skip trying to resolve."

With that, you slam your door shut and lock it.

But you don't pull away from it.

Javier leans distraughtly into the other side of the door, and rests his forehead in drunken frustration against its cool surface while he feebly props his hands on either side of the frame. "I'll prove it to you. You matter to me, querida. I love you, and I'll keep trying to win you back. I'll fix things and earn back your trust. Just don't shut me out…"

Tears are running down your face, and you discard the key to the side table hastily so you can run down the hall and bury your sobs into a pillow.

The liquor is finally hitting Javier enough that he has to force himself to resist the urge to slide down your door and sleep it off. Instead, he trudges down the steps and stalks out of the courtyard into the gusty breeze to get in his SUV and sober up. Once he musters the concentration and sobriety to drive back to his apartment, he sullenly goes upstairs and makes his way to the door before he stumbles up through the cold and dark space.

He finds his way to his room and crawls into bed, forgoing undressing, and passes out face-first on his stomach.

As unconsciousness begins to weigh him down, he sends up a silent plea.

Please don't shut me out of your life forever…

You don't hear from Javier.

In the days after the story breaks, rumors at the embassy are rampant and fierce, but with the political fallout from the exposure of the article, Javier's notoriety is quickly replaced by other headlines that impact relations with the Colombian government. However, it's during this time that you relent, sit down, and read the entire article that put everything into motion.

Seeing that Javier alleged DOS and DOJ were aware of the corruption – that the ambassador had played him a tape given to him by the CIA, documenting the deal Santiago Medina brokered with the Samper presidential campaign and Gilberto Rodríguez? It fills you with cold, sickening dread.

After all, if Crosby knew about the Colombian president being in Cali's pocket and kept playing along – as if something that nefarious didn't justify severing all ties between the U.S. and the Colombian government, what if he'd known everything Stechner had been up to. Could he know Stechner gave my name to the Cali cartel? That they'd snatched me up as an indirect favor to the CIA station chief, in order to try to knock me down a few pegs?

It made you question your convictions. Put everything you'd ever thought about the politics, wielding and dealing at the embassy into a new, discordant perspective.

And if this is how you felt, you can only imagine how torn and betrayed Javi had felt.

Just when you're feeling inundated by your guilt and resentment, Marisol approaches you at the end of the day and waves you over into a secluded corner of your department.

"I didn't want to tell you this…" she prefaces before divulging how over a week prior, on the night Javier's agents had apprehended Miguel Rodríguez, he'd been in his office's bullpen, all alone, just staring at the suspect board. One of the custodians had walked by and seen him and thought it odd. When they'd circled back around a few minutes later, Javier was no longer alone.

The CIA station chief had been talking to him. From what they saw, Javier looked none too happy, and the little the custodian heard and could understand, it sounded like Stechner had patronized Javier, because the seasoned agent had given the balding man a withering look before turning and stalking away from him.

Your heart aches, knowing just how much Javi had wanted to defend your honor and get retribution against the man for everything he'd done, and the fact he'd come to kick Javi while he was down? And that at his lowest, Javi didn't take the bait, and walked away from the bastard?

You thank Marisol for telling you, and before you can muster the composure to keep your tears at bay, she leans in for a hug, squeezes you tight, and whispers in your ear, "Go get your guapo descarado."

It was the encouragement you didn't know you were longing for.

You get your purse and rush out of the embassy, driving over to Javier's and yearning to undo everything that you allowed to untether you both apart. The traffic is heavy, so in your impatience, you opt to park on the street across from his building, dash over to it and down the parking garage ramp to head up to his apartment's floor. You sprint down the hall and feel your pulse racing as you get to the door and knock on it.

There's no answer.

You knock again, and again, trepidation growing in you, so you knock once more and call out, "Javi, it's me," then strain to hear through the door.

"Excuse me, señorita," a voice calls down from the apartment on the opposite end of the hall. You blink over and see a man dressed like he'd just come home from the office, peeking from his open apartment door at you. "The man in that apartment moved out."

Your senses dull over at hearing that, mind straining incredulity. "…When?" you find yourself asking.

"A few days ago. They've already posted it up as available for lease," he retorts, looking curiously at you.

At your vacant nod, he frowns and goes back into his apartment, leaving you alone in the chilly hallway.

Wavering, you lean back into the door and bury your face in your hands, stifling a sob as you realize what you've done.

You've pushed Javi away, and he's left.

You're all alone, and it's your fault.

You never got to tell him that he was enough.

________________

Read Chapter 38: Enough

Spanish-English Glossary:

Tan celoso = [You're] so jealous

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Mandona = Bossy lady

Chavón = a man that's pestering you

Canela = Cinnamon

Don Celos = Mr. Jealous; a "Don" is used as a title of respect for a man with a high reputation, so she means it like a "sir", so aka "Sir Jealous"

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Pantaleta = Panties; undies; skivvies

La Virgen Santa = The Virgin Mary; The Virgin Mother

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Jodón = pain in the ass [male]

Corazón = Heart; pet name to signify how deeply you love someone

Mi patrón = My master/boss

Tan chingona y coqueta = Such a badass, flirty lady

Hermosa/hermoso = beautiful (female); beautiful (male)

Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled

Mi amor = My love

Tan brava = So feisty; So tough; refers to a "tough girl" 

Eres mía, tiernita = You're mine, my tender little girl

Guapito = affectionate way of calling a man handsome (in the diminutive term)

Dulzón = Sweetheart [male]

Buena suerte, agente = Good luck, agent

Batita = Nightgown

Te amo con toda mi alma = I love you with all my soul

Reportera = Reporter [female]

Cabrón = Asshole

Guapo descarado = Handsome cad

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

[benevolentbirdgal]

What makes a golem a golem? I see a lot of media that calls any sort of construct or manmade being a golem but I feel like that’s not right? I see a lot of people see Frankenstein’s monster is a golem for example.

Great question that I'm probably going to end up answering in like four different directions!

Also, sorry for the delay, I saw this, thought wow, this deserves a thoughtful response, and then got busy for two weeks with travel and family stuff!

Okay, so usual disclaimers that I am not the holder of the One True Jewish Opinion and that folklore can be wibbly, but here's my basic take on what makes a golem a golem.

There are a few positions I'm going to explore here on "what is a Golem" -

The most literal/traditional definition from pre-20th century writings.

The most inclusive - Every Constructed Man Is A Golem and/or if someone calls it a Golem it must be one.

The appropriation-observation - That Mech Isn't A Golem, But It's A Problem That It's Pretending To Be.

Also: Full Disclosure: My personal opinion is definitely somewhere in the "Golem means a specific thing, but it gets misappropriated a lot and that's bad" range.

In the most literal & traditional sense, a Golem is a formerly inanimate anthropomorphic shaped clump of Something (most traditionally clay or dirt or rock) brought to life by the magic of the Hebrew alphabet. Golems also lack free will - whatever you tell them to do, they do, and generally they are portrayed as very literal in how they interpret instructions. They are also, in the earliest examples, mute.

Golem folklore goes back into at least Talmudic times (first centuries common era), with examples of Rabbi such-and-such making golems using Hebrew names or the word for truth in middle ages. Our modern conceptions are also typically heavily grounded in the writings of the Maharal of Prague (Judah Loew ben Bezalel), who lived and wrote in the 16th century. Although relatively recent, the Maharal and his golem he deactivated so it wouldn't have to work on Shabbos are the most famous at this point.

Many of these stories understood golems as both general household help and as potential protectors of the Jewish community. The Maharal in particular engaged with the latter angle.

I do not think that the most exclusive interpretation of what we call golems, at least alone is helpful for modern discourse. Having a base understanding is useful though.

Roughly, tradition tells us that a golem is a traditionally clay-based constructed humanoid figure brought to life by the power of the written Hebrew language and operates without free will and usually without speech. They are not evil, just literal AF, and need to be handled with care - both with respect to their behavior and by some accounts, how the golem itself is treated.

This is a fairly restrictive definition. The opposite view is that anything that looks like, is called as, or vibes like a golem counts. In my observation, this is usually in the interest of calling out misappropriated golems.

I basically see three problems with the "everything is a Golem" camp:

It's NOT a one-to-one, but there are other manmade alive-but-not figures that fill similar roles outside of Jewish folklore. I'm not saying that a Talon (Greek) or Shabti (Egyptian) Tupilaq (Inuit) are exact equivalent to Golems, I'm saying that if a creator from a background with a constructed person-like entity as part of their traditions creates media with constructed person-like entity we should hear the contextual horses not zebras.

If something is a golem, we need something to not be. If we wanted to be very expansive, one could even argue that household robots like Rosie from The Jetsons are Golem analogues, which would be fun to argue, but one would be wrong. Basically, I oppose "anything is this specific thing" definitions.

There are lots of pieces of media that misappropriate golems (and other Jewish folklore, but that's a song for another time), but it's important to me that we save that label for Actual Problematic Appropriation, not literally anything that could possibly count because of vibes or whatever.

I do think we should be immediately suspicious of that which is labeled by creators as Golems when the creators are not Jewish. Why is gentile creator insisting this is a thing from a community they are not part of???

I sympathize with the assessment that misappropriated golems and golem analogues abound, because they do. This brings me to my own view.

For me - I think the best ways to determine if x is a Golem or Golem-analogue, misappropriated or otherwise, is to explore the following three questions:

Does it line up to the traditional description?

Do the creators insist that it is a Golem and/or do we have reason to believe they were influenced by Golem stories?

Is there a community consensus from the culture of origin - Jewish - that this piece of media is a Golem or Golem analogue? [by far the trickiest to determine].

I think there are basically three answers you could land on: definitely a Golem, definitely not a Golem, and some middle ground of inspiration from the thing.

Since the example given was Frankenstein, I'll run that as a sample:

Eh. I see where people are coming from on this one, I do, but I don't think the evidence is damning here. We could nitpick on the physically different aspects - the lack of Hebrew inscription, people instead of dirt/clay, the electricity bringing to life, but I actually think the thematic differences are more relevant. Golems are explicitly under the control of their creator, have a (relatively) easy on/off switch, are generally intended for good purposes (household help, self-defense), and regarded as part of the household (most narratives have Golems not working on Shabbat). Although I wouldn't say Frankenstein's Monster is evil, there's a very different relationship and operation that is much more horror-y than folklore-y at the end of the day.

Shelley never straight-up said the monster was a Golem. Although Golem narratives go back much earlier, their debut to the wider world was in 1808 through the Brothers Grimm's submission to a literary journal, Journal of Hermits. In 1808 and 1812 we see clear departures from traditional Jewish narratives in the write-up's from the Grimm brothers. It's perfectly plausible she interacted with Golem or Golem-esque ideas through her intellectual circles in this way.

There is not community consensus that Frankenstein's Monster = Golem. There are definitely Jews who hold this position, but it's not a community consensus by any means.

In this case, at least for Shelley's 1816 publication (not getting into later stuff or movies), inspiration from the Brother's Grimm bastardization is probable, but ultimately I'd say not a Golem.

As per usual, OP (or anyone else) is welcome to follow-up, other Jews welcome to add stuff, goyim welcome to reblog!

[schwazombie]

wanna preface any sort of talk about anything even tangentially related to healthcare with the disclaimer that of course doing research and talking to professionals is important, but also like. a lot. a LOT. of the "T is so dangerous!!!! it will destroy you from the inside out and you will never be the same!!!!! it will ravage you like the plague and you'll lose your hair and teeth and become a monster!!!!!!!" is like. based on nothing. it's straight up TERF propaganda. There are always changes that will occur in your body when you do hormone therapy, but far and away they're the intended changes. There are lots of things that constitute hormone therapy, too, like you said birth control is one, people who are dealing with thyroid issues go through hormone therapy, there are LOTS of different iterations, it just so happens that the ones that trans your gender are the ones everyone's so fuckin mad about.

like I said, do your research of course, but you're not bad for wanting to go on T, and the gross majority of the scary stuff that gets put out about it is TERFs trying to scare you into staying inside the box they built for everyone.

Hey. Hey. Hey? I appreciate you.

For SURE for sure. Even knowing it's TERF propaganda I still catch myself sometimes fearmongering to myself repeating that shit oh no my body will change and will never be the same Ö but that's... that's true anyway no matter what I do. And I know some things I will have to possibly deal with (e.g., hair loss is a thing on both sides of my family so it wouldn't surprise me in the least), but it's not this huge scary thing that a lot of people (incl. doctors sometimes) make it out to be. Especially because yeah. Fn. Birth control??? And I have friends who have thyroid issues? And there's so much but you are so right people get big mad about the potions of trans your gender (and like... apparently here you have to have a whole fn test done to see which chromosomes you have before you can do hormone therapy but that wasn't needed for getting on the pill like yo????). And they can't even say it's because oh it's an elective thing uwu because so was fucking birth control for me it wasn't like I was taking it to deal with other health issues. It's just. Gah.

But re: research -- I do have a friend (whom I love so much because they are awesom af) who throws me whatever he can think of about their experiences, and I'm lucky enough that my city has a... Transberatungsstelle. I have no clue how to translate that. Kind of like a resource center? All the dictionary entries for Beratungsstelle are wrong (: At any rate they do free anon councilling about trans* issues so I went and talked to them and got a huge stack of information. We've also got a local Queeres Zentrum that has a trans group that meets twice a month which I knew about; what I didn't know about (that I found out about at the TraBS) was that there's also a queer choir in my city and the fn. The fn choir director is a trans man. One of my big fears was that nonsense I keep seeing about oH NO iT'll rUin yOUr vOiCE because I love singing so just knowing that a trans man leads a whole damn choir was like... oh. Oh. Information is my armour and my sword sort of situation

Anyway you are so sweet for sending this and as I said, I appreciate you <3 you are officially added to the list of people who can stay on my sleeper sofa

[especially-interested-ffa]

More About Me

Name is Tara. Early thirties. She/Her. I’m a fun combo of ASD & mixed ADHD w/ sides of both sensory seeking and sensory avoiding tendencies. I’m also a recovering heroin/crack addict (11 yrs, 8 months) recovering from myriad eating disorders (4 years, 6 months). I’ve been very successful in life in spite of all this, yet I don’t often acknowledge that b/c, yk, abysmally low self-esteem, but I get better about that everyday b/c I work the 12 steps. My gratitude for life was borne of the adversities I’ve faced, the obstacles I’ve overcome.

I find value in labels, (for introductions, disclaimers, self awareness, community/connection), but I also rebel against them w/ the intention of not limiting my personal growth.

I’m a Cancer and an INTP = tons of feelings, but they don’t much guide me.

Aaaaand yet, I'm super empathic. Grey ace/aro, hyper/bisexual, fatsexual. Probably poly, or at least poly friendly, (I feel compersion, not jealousy).

FFA/Feeder (in a super gay way) with a strong lean toward soft feedism. Like, no CNC for me in that context. It's gotta be soft and lovey and joyful and indulgent and adoring.

Fmr. paid sex worker who avidly supports and patronizes paid sex workers.

I have the following physiological ASD comorbidities: hypermobile EDS, (bendy af), MCAS, (Mast Cell Activation Syndrome), subclinical secondary (hypoandrenergic) POTS, Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome (from Lyme @ 16) and secondary low T3 hypothyroidism. I have low proprioception w/o dyspraxia but because of the joint hypermobility

I have a B.A. in Psychology & an M.S. in Nutrition & Integrative Health. Human disease/disorder is my primary special interest. Music is my secondary, but it’s a fickle/choosy one. Psychopathy/true crime is tertiary. Math/numbers and words/etymology/accents/dialects/language/slang are both quaternary. I’m a finance/HR director.

I have no inclination toward animals. Animals are lovely, but I don’t connect w/ them. Instead, I adore and go “awww” at all of the baby humans.

Rlyyyy random but I'm vehemently opposed to veganism for the human race. It’s a principle thing and I’m autistic so I have an arsenal of debate material on deck w/o fucks to give about personal feelings; there’s no use in coming for me. I (acknowledge the privilege I have to be able to afford to) practice ethical, environmentally conscious omnivorism. People should live however, and eat whatever, tf they want to, though.

I love to sing, dance, and lift weights. My personal style is the athleisure version of Lydia from Beetlejuice. Petite / short / athletic / hourglass / big boobs / fat ass.

The DMV is home, but Phoenix AZ is my spiritual home, (the rotting cacti give me gut-lvl catharsis...I bawl like a baby about it). Ik, Sedonaaaaa, and sure, but also Phoenix.

Severe existential dread often poisons my naturally gleeful disposition. Very in touch w/ my inner child, VERY silly. Boundless love and adoration to give. Terrified of dying alone, but also need a lot of personal space/time.

Minors: leave me alone.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

https://youtube.com/shorts/aZ6fiBbRfeQ?feature=share

Theitsa they are doing it again! Now they depict Andromeda as black African princess and people again in the comments are trying to debate it and make it again about color instead of ethnicity...😅

Literally no one is even questioning how problematic and rude it is to take a character from GREEK mythology and erasing it from it's ethnicity.

oooooof.......

Disclaimers:

>> No skintone is superior or "better" than others. This blog doesn't stand for that

>> Greek culture has space for all people

>> It would be equally inaccurate to present Andromeda with the appearance of a North European, like blue eyes and blonde

To the video:

>> The video misrepresented the location of Aethiopia (Andromeda was middle eastern, not South African! Andromeda is the mother of Persians, according to our mythology, who are... Asian!)

>> The video disregards all ancient Greek texts and depictions of Andromeda. I don't know how to say this but.... if you are speaking about myths from another culture, better respect the texts and the depictions of the culture. Regarding Greek culture, it is a cultural convention to follow our depictions.

>> The video creators probably based her depiction off Ovid's description which was 1) the only one of its kind saying Andromeda had dark skin 2) Racist af the way he wrote it 3) Ovid is a hack and misrepresented Greek myths a lot (people seriously discourage having Ovid as a source. He pulled many things out of his ass and ignored the actual Greek myths)

>> The channel that produced the video is Afrocentric in the negative sense of the word. The viewers themselves write blanket statements that are historically inaccurate, like "people forgot that all Egyptian dynasties were black except for the last dynasty which is the Ptelomaic dynasty", "The original Greeks are the Estruscians and Minoans who are Nubian Cushites" and "Greek mythology is full of Black people and they want to erase us from it", "The Greeks and black Africa were tight. They clearly got along without racism. They lived during a time when Africans were highly respected while Europeans ( other than Greeks) were feared and rejected as barbarians. Greek and Roman descriptions of other Europeans were frightening. Their descriptions of black Africans were filled with awe and respect."

I would be extremely happy if these statements were factually true - if our people had very close ties with African nations, if ancient Greeks spoke highly of Africans and didn't represent them stereotypically, etc - but it's not supported by archaeological evidence. To ignore the evidence is to spit to the effort and intelligence of generations of Greeks and xenoi who have gathered and continue to gather this evidence.

Let's not stand a lot to the more voyeuristic and fetishizing comments about "Black"* women. They speak for themselves. But may I stand on a while on other comments that reek of conspiracy theorist logic... "it's sad how blind people can be to Truth." and "That's why the jealousy to destroy and re-educate is so great. The Envy of the ancestors", "No wonder I was obsessed with so called Greek mythology because it’s our people not theirs."

Bro

ΜΠΡΟ

ΜΠΡΟΟΟ

Stop calling all historians and archaeologists worldwide hacks! Please, for the love of whatever you hold dear. They've been trying to uncover as much as they can! Greeks, Egyptians, and all sorts of people with all sorts of appearances are in this domain! It's not to their advantage to hide anything! Not worldwide! Not even in the US, to be honest. (The research there is exhaustive too, and biases don't stay covered for long)

The results not fitting your ideal image doesn't mean they are fake. Do I really need to explain how much, constant work archaeologists do, and how most of them strive to reach the truth as much as possible?? If there were depictions of Andromed as "Black"* and ancient Greek texts that supported it, and people were hiding them or destroying them, yes, then I would agree that something bad was going on. But that's just not the case!

Systemic oppression, racism, and biases in scientific domains are very real, don't get me wrong. But Andromeda's depiction has little to do with it. We have overwhelming archaeological evidence of how she looked, and it would be wrong to ignore them. Not only out of respect for the culture one is entertained by, but also because that's the objective reality.

Here you can find a huge detailed, exhaustive essay about the appearance and ethnicity of Andromeda, with sources and depictions. It is more empowering to have your facts straight than to believe appealing falsehoods.

* In quotation marks cause it's a slur in my language

[plaindangan]

Ryoko really wants yasuke to love her! I mean, they kinda are dating but the usually innocent redhead’s hungry for some attention~ upupupu.. good thing "big sis" junko is here again with her great ideas!… having both her and ryoko dressed up as sexy thicc af bunny girls and be overly affectionate! Surely its not a trick from the fashonista and it won’t end up in a passionate threesome!

Disclaimer: Below is content that's more on the racy side! If not for you, you probably shouldn't read!

"...You put her up to this, didn't you?" Yasuke asked in a deadpanned manner. Junko didn't even bother to hide it as she gave a peace sign and a smirk.

"Now, now, it's a just suggestion that my sweet, sweet, little sister latched onto!~ Is it a crime to help make sweet little Ryo's dream come true?~" she said teasingly.

Both girls were in his bedroom. To his left, was the trickster and fashion queen herself: Junko Enoshima. To his right, was the ever forgetful, yet intelligent and loving: Ryoko Otonashi.

The catch? Both were wearing quite the skimpy pair of bunny suits. Junko's was white and black, whilst Ryoko rocked a grey suit. Both suits barely seemed to handle the girl's large breasts and curvy thighs were also on display. Much to the neurologist's dismay.

"D-don't you like this? Big sis told me you really love suits like this! Look! I even got a bunny tail in the back!" she said and, before Yasuke to call out, she turned out...showing off that the suit didn't really cover down to her bottom, thus the pale, plump, peach bounced enticingly for the scientist.

"Ergh..." he blushed at the sight and turned to Junko - only to take a step back. Junko had approached closer, meaning he could get a better sight at the woman's ridiculously large boobs. Something she didn't hesitate to bounce and fondle in front of him.

"C'moon, Yasuke!~ Don't kid yourself: you like this, don'tcha?~ Now...how about some fun with these bunnies, hm?"

"...."

---

"Aaaah, y-you really are...a pain!~"

"I love you!! I love you!!! Iloveyouuuuuuuuuuuu!!~ Faster, Yasuke! Fasteeeeeeer!~"

"Kn-knew you would see things my way!~ N-now, give your all to me!! Don't be boring now!~"

...Yasuke never formally admitted it...but all three knew full well who were the victors in this!~