#césar post
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H i m. (@mustangs-flames)
Not done yet, will be coloured, but wanted to share my doodles :D - César
#digital art#fanart#htb mark owens#htb fanart#hail true body#htb#htb mark#htb cesar hernandez#htb mimic!cesar#htb darcy#scared i got details wrong but i think its good#also got new brushes#>:)#césar post
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Jack O'Connell and César Domboy as Paddy Mayne and Augustin Jordan in SAS Rogue Heroes episode 5
#i don't feel normal about this scene#posting this scene to get people to watch sas rogue heroes#gotta love some homoerotic wrestling in the sand#the queers on this site will love it#there's a lot of symbolism in the characters#and so many interesting character analyses to be done#pls just watch it!!!#homoerotism#homoerotic#gay#gay scene#queer#paddy mayne#sas rogue heroes#augustin jordan#jack o'connell#césar domboy
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–‘Anne of Ingleside’ by Lucy Maud Montgomery feat. portrait by Paul César Helleu
#just letting you know i’m about to be massively annoying by serial posting with mister helleu’s art over the next few days 😅#he drew sooooy many portraits of anne and the ingleside gang… he just didn’t realise it 👀#anyway#walter blythe#🤍#anne of ingleside#lucy maud montgomery#paul césar helleu
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What on Earth happened between the production of Astérix et Obélix contre César and Mission Cléopâtre. I'd always assumed there was like a decade between the release of one and the other because the costumes, atrezzo, general vibe are so different, but turns out they're only three years apart?
#it looks overall cheaper and like. idk but the tone of the movies since cléopâtre feels less similar to the comics than contre César#I even thought christian clavier as asterix had already been replaced in that movie! he wasn't yet!#asterix and obelix#my commentary#my original post
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Étude d'après la même, drypoint etching by Paul César Helleu
#paul césar helleu#new post#historical fashion#drypoint#circa 1900#artwork#circa 1913#belle epoque#black and white#black and white art#art#french art#vintage art
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youtube
Ada Oda - Non So Che Cosa Ne Sarà Di Me
#ada oda#non so che cosa ne sarà di me#victoria barracato#césar laloux#marc pirard#aurélien gainetdinoff#alex de bueger#post punk#art punk#punk#punk rock#un amore debole#2022#Youtube
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Swann Arlaud ptn
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Es interesante toparse con fragmentos como este, habiendo tantas personas insistiendo en las redes sociales que existe solo una forma de racismo, o más bien, solo una manera de racializar y clasificar a los pueblos y a las personas.
César Vallejo, escritor izquierdista sudamericano, peruano de origen mestizo, describe Moscú con un ojo orientalizante pero al mismo tiempo encontrando similitudes entre su propia sociedad y esta, en la que identifica también un origen mestizo:
Burgo, entre mongol y tártaro, entre búdico y cismático griego, Moscú es una gran aldea medieval, en cuyas entrañas maceradas y bárbaras se aspira todavía el óxido de hierro de las horcas, el orín de las cúpulas bizantinas, el vodka destilado de cebada, la sangre de los siervos, los granos de los diezmos y primicias, el vino de los festines del Kremlin, el sudor de mesnadas primitivas y bestiales. Cada rincón de la ciudad lo testifica plásticamente: su plano irregular y abrupto, sus muros amarillos y blancos, las calzadas empedradas, los tejados rojos y salpicados de musgo; en fin, el decorado elemental y asiático. Sólo que junto a las ruinas del pasado anterior a 1917, se advierten las ruinas y devastaciones producidas por la revolución de octubre y las guerras civiles que la siguieron.
— César Vallejo. Rusia en 1931.
Cambiar un par de palabras y bien podría estar describiendo el Cusco, que fue ciudad inca y luego española.
#a propósito del post sobre el racista esotérico viajando en el tiempo para asesinar a batu-khan#césar vallejo#ole blog
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🥵
#benedetta#watching this masterpiece in honour of gigi becoming a césar winner 🔥#this is not a random text post blog
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Joesar é simultaneamente a melhor e a pior coisa que já me aconteceu
EU PRECISO DELES !!! Gente era só mais um bisexual de cabelo preto pra firmar um trisal de responsa, sabe? (disse a bisexual de cabelo preto sem nenhuma segunda intenção 👀)
#minha self insert de ordem “nasceu” em OSNF#COINCIDÊNCIA ?????? CLARO QUE NÃO#(foi uma self insert pra shippar com o César? sim!) (mas Joesar foi uma progressão natural -> trisal)#preciso assistir OSNF de novo pra ser ainda mais maluca sobre eles#É tão “canon” pra mim que único nome de ship que eu tenho não é nem com o César (n consegui fazer dar certo) mas direto em Joesar#Joesarty (amém)#amigs de Ordem vocês tem essas nóia tbm? de self ship#🔪 me contem sobre os self ships de Ordem de vcs#cada fanart de Joesar que eu vejo é 1. TESÃO 2. TRAGÉDIA TRISTEZA E TRAGÉDIA#tinha escrito trisal e não casal no post... acho q meu teclado é polifobico não é possível
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Thank you to everyone who joined the stream! It was extremely chaotic, stressful, and fun! Even if it was mostly me just not knowing what to draw and being odd because of that, performance anxiety hits hard
To those who had to leave or couldn’t make it, here are some of the drawings! -César
These two WIPs from stream will be made into full paintings soon
#digital art#fanart#corvidae art#htb fanart#htb cesar hernandez#htb mark owens#htb mimic!cesar#htb mark#htb#hail true body#again double sorry if I was weird dueing stream#i have never streamed before and I have reallyyyy bad anxiety#so I get kinda cringy#whoopsie daisy#there will probably be more streams since I want to explore the medium more#most likely of actually preplanned-ish art#and games with friends#so look out for that!#césar post
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César Baldaccini (1921-1998), France
Signed color print, numbered 10/35
Metropol.se
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thank you to everyone who has been liking and sharing my scavengers posts! the above is an edit i made on my last day as joke about kamen waiting at the juniper tree for sam instead of sara. don't ask about the capybara.
if you're interested in checking out the background designers who helped make that work possible, i've attached links to their socials below. i'm also including the socials of my fellow painters. i also have other bgs i didn't post here that are on my website.
for other such resources, the majority of the scav crew have instagram profiles. if you'd like to follow their work, many are just a credits-check and instagram search away. co-creator and art director charles huettner also has tons of bts posts from the artists on his insta.
↓ bg artist socials ↓
design supervisor: kirk shinmoto
background desingers: césar chevalier, anastassia drobyazko, darina lapovskaya, noémie leroux, hortense mariano, alfie marley, pauline mauvière
background painters: isabella de ocampo, samet gül, matthew hernandez, alfie marley, nhan nguyen, lily wang, rachel wilson
colourscripts: agathe leroux, rachel wilson
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WHEN THE GRIEF HOWLS ― a javier peña's autumnal oneshot (pt.2)
main masterlist | read part 1 | read on ao3 pairing: javier peña x f!reader (same couple as "when the moon howls"). can be read as a oneshot. summary: javi and you go back to yours after your idyllic pumpkin patch date and he stays over. you comfort him when his demons catch up with him. a/n: hiya! i OBVIOUSLY do not know what "oneshot" means??? bahhaha. this is another entry for @goodwithcheese and @jolapeno's jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge because i'm just so inspired by it all and javi has me on a chokehold. i promise this is my last entry. also thanks to sweet jo because she kinda sowed the seed and here we are! any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated are most welcomed c: take care lovelies <3 x warnings/tags: 18+, mdni (no smut here, but still). very mild/veiled allusions to intimacy. post season 3 of narcos, canon-deviating as javi is not hailed a hero upon his return to laredo, but quite the opposite. fluff - they are madly in love y'all. domestic bliss. angst. a smidgen of hurt, loads of comfort. description of a panic attack and vivid nightmares. mentions of ptsd and therapy. halloween/autumnal vibes. nightmare before christmas is mentioned because duh. both javi's and reader's povs (that's more like it). no use of y/n. no description of reader (moodboard is only for aesthetic purposes). unbeta'd, soz. w/c: 4.7k divider by @saradika-graphics
Sunday, 1st November 1998.
2:53 AM.
The bodies just kept piling up in front of his eyes.
Every person whose death he had witnessed.
Every body who had been hung off bridges.
Every person who had died because of a decision he had made.
Every soul he himself had extinguished.
The innocent bystanders, other governmental agents, politicians who had tried to fight the drug lords.
The 1989 Avianca flight that was brought down by a bomb planted by the Medellín cartel. Flight 203 had reaped the lives of one hundred and seven blameless lives ―one hundred and ten, he corrected himself― just because Escobar had wanted to eliminate his political opponent, César Gaviria Trujillo, who, by a fateful twist of the universe, never ended up boarding the flight.
The pictures of such tragedy still stuck with him, burnt into his retinas like a photo negative ― every time he blinked, the colours would pour into the frame, the vision grotesque and gut-turning.
Every single one of them was a failure Javier could not elude, could no longer bury in the most godforsaken drawer of his brain. A failure that would haunt him, would become corporeal in his vivid nightmares.
With the eyes of his dreaming imagination, he could see every one of them souls in front of him ― judging him, blaming him, eyes full of hatred. Accusatory fingers pointing at him, as if it was his Day of Reckoning.
All this piteous death, all this mindless suffering ― for naught.
He had made no true, tangible difference. He had fallen short.
And he was failing all over again in his lucid dream. Unable to stop them from dying, he saw each one of them perish in front of him until a heap of foul death surrounded him.
Javier finally felt it, even welcomed it ― the Grim Reaper’s noose loosely wrapping around his neck. Then taut and firm, a tight caress ghosting his skin. There was no going back, but there was no more guilt either. A bittersweet yet soothing balance, one that could only be served by the Ghoul’s scythe.
And then Death lifted him up, the hanging rope coiling on the tree branch ― suffocating him as his averted eyes watched the scene unfurl underneath him. A snarled mess of bodies, some hands reaching up to him. He would ―should― join them, after all.
A purposeful man would have struck back ― kick his feet, unfettered from his restrain.
But he didn’t fight back. He didn’t have it in him anymore. He got exactly what he deserved.
Javier startled awake, panting and sweating from such terrible nightmare. His heart was pounding against his ribs, his breathing accelerated causing him a painful stitch. He felt his chest caving in with all the panic that had slowly but steadily built up inside him.
His reaction was so severe, he had sprung up and sat up on the mattress. All he could hear was his blood heavily flowing through his eardrums; all he could see was darkness; all he could smell was the lingering stench of death; all he could taste was his remorse; all he could touch were dead, cold bodies.
Javier bent his knees, soles against the bedsheets, and leaned forward with his head buried between his knees. Eyes closed, he had to concentrate on his breathing and slowing down his racing heart. Otherwise, the panic would only grow and grow and grow until madness took over him.
Then a soothing, grounding hand slithered under the back of his tee shirt, a warm touch against his cold, damp skin. Only at that point did he remembered he wasn’t at his dad’s place, wasn’t alone either. His strained muscles visibly relaxed without him even trying.
“Javi,” your sleepy voice prevailed over his drowning anxiety. “It’s alright, I’m here.”
He still didn’t know what he had done to deserve you, to have you by his side, strong and unyielding ― ready to fight his demons for him if necessary. You loved so fiercely, so deeply, at first he tried to fight it. To spare you.
But how could he? You were the moon that imposed the perfect cadence on his tide, calling him home at night. The moment he had landed his eyes on you and your orbits had crashed, he was a lost man ― lost to you, to your smile, to your unquivering positivity, your calmness, your ease to listen, to give advice, to help without asking for anything in return.
But how could you? Even when his grief was howling loud and clear, you loved him. Despite all his flaws and faults, his obvious defects, you saw past it all ― even past the rumours that flew around in Laredo about him. He knew you had heard all the gossip, how people talked about his fictional shenanigans with the drug lords, a willing participant in their endeavours. How he did drugs on the job and sold some of it back to the narcos. Javier had been deaf to all of it ― he didn’t care for what people were saying. Didn’t even bother to put a stop to it, because he had enough open fronts to fight as it was.
Even his childhood friends had turned their backs on him. But not you. Never you. Not even when he had shared his darkest secrets with you over a pumpkin spice latte and a slice of pumpkin cake. Instead of withdrawing from him, you held his hand as he had talked with a heavy heart and short of breath. The flashes coming back to him, you soothed by the mere caress of your fingertips.
You had touched his core ―just as you were touching him now―, kneaded it until it softened like clay on the hands of an expert ceramist. Javier didn’t think himself worthy of love, not after everything he had done and seen. Colombia had shattered him ― Javier had lost all hope in humanity.
The life he had sustained in Colombia had finally caught up with him, destroyed the person he had been prior to all of it. Once a womanizer, he had no longer found respite in laying with his informers. Had even quit smoking, only to go back to it a few weeks later ― the crushing anxiety pushing him back to the stale taste of tobacco. He had cut down on the black coffee too.
In spite of that, he was far from being a reformed man. He even doubted he could ever be a normal civilian. The trauma that haunted him had a tight grip on him, hefty shackles wrapping around his wrists. And his heavy breathing and sweating were a testament to his struggles.
“Javi?” You called again, your tone delicate and heartening.
Slowly Javier came out of his sluggish haze ― your palm rubbing his spine, beckoning him to come back to reality.
Lifting his head up, elbows on knees, he looked at you over his left shoulder.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, pequeña (little one).” His hoarse voice felt unlike him, so he cleared his throat.
You sat back up on the bed, your hand wrapping around his waist until the palm flushed against his tummy under his tee. You kissed his shoulder and then his lips.
“You should have woken me up earlier, Javi. I want to be by your side when your nightmares startle you. I wanna help you, I wanna be there for you. Always.” Your words tugged at his heart, knowing full well you truly meant them.
A weak, crooked smile took over the muscles of his mouth. How easy you uprooted a grin from him ― you were so effortless to love, to care for, it felt as natural as breathing.
“Old habits die hard.” Javi muttered, bowing forward a bit seeking your warm, welcoming lips.
He had bottled all his suffering up for months now, years. It was hard to let go ― one of the main reasons he had signed up for therapy.
You smiled into the kiss, your fingertips lightly stroking the sensitive skin around his belly button.
“Baby steps.” You pressed a few consecutive pecks on his lips.
Javier sighed, visibly relaxing now as his body released the tension under your attention. He then laid flat on his back again, dragging you with him until your cheek was pressed against the centre of his chest. After, you buried your face in the crook of his neck while your left hand wiped the pearly drops of sweat off his forehead before raking his untamed hair back. That same hand quickly burrowed under his tee shirt, rubbing his clammy skin ― you didn’t seem bothered by his perspiration.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, your lips brushing his jawline.
“It’s just the same nightmare I always have. I was being hung off a tree, dead bodies piling up beneath me.” He struggled to say out loud, unconsciously reaching for his neck where the imaginary noose had tightened.
Your fingers forced his to move to one side so you could kiss his Adam’s apple ― the feeling of the rope around his neck replaced by the calming flick of your mouth.
Javier closed his eyes, his bad dream gradually fading away.
“Did you fight back?” He had told you that was what the therapist had recommended he tried if the nightmare was vivid enough ― that he attempted to regain control.
“No, I couldn’t. Not yet.” He murmured; a tad ashamed of himself.
“That’s okay, Javi.” You reassured him, feeling his vulnerability, as your hand caressed his tummy. “Baby steps”, you repeated.
Javier nodded, turning his face to you so he could press a kiss to your forehead. You snuggled a bit more into his side.
“Go back to sleep, pequeña.”
“Only if you do.” You challenged him with a smile.
Javi let go of a snort, unsurprised by your stubbornness.
“Alright, let’s go back to sleep then, both of us.”
6:14 AM.
The thumping rhythm under your fingertips alerted you to Javi’s awakening. Or perhaps he had been subtle enough this time not to wake you up. His heart pumped so hard, you could count his every heartbeat. With your hand still under his tee shirt, lazily resting on the middle of his chest, your thumb traced his sternum a few times.
“I thought you said both of us?” You muttered light-heartedly, your lips brushing his earlobe.
Javi inhaled and then steadily exhaled, his pulse slowing down.
“I just woke up a couple of minutes ago.”
You didn’t know if he was lying or not, but you believed him. Every word he said, you knew to trust. The last few weeks you had unearthed the real Javi, had dusted off so many secrets and emotions, you just knew he had no need to lie to you. There was really no point.
It was weird to think that yesterday you believed this impossible. Your friendship with Javi had developed so fast, you didn’t even have a chance at confessing your true feelings for him. You thought you concealed them well, afraid of losing him ― because you rather had him as a close friend, than not having him at all. A coward maybe, but a coward with him by your side.
You had not planned to fall in love again, not after your last breakup. However, Javier was so different, so down to earth and as broken as you were, you had fallen for him before you even gave yourself a chance at love again. Perhaps you had been putting his pieces back together and thrown yours in the puzzle too ― to the point that your stitches ended where his began.
Unbeknownst to you, Javi had been harbouring feelings for you too. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have thought he would be the one to take the risk. You had melted at the first touch of his lips, as if that was exactly where you belonged. As if all experiences up to that point had led you to his arms. You were meant to be ― two broken soul pieces that fit together perfectly.
Last night had been the best one of your life, no doubt in your mind. Hidden under the linen, you had silently played a new version of “trick or treat” together ― where there were no tricks, but many treats. With the language of your hands, you had read the braille on every groove of his skin. He had mapped you out in return too ― hungry, needy hands making you shiver.
You could still feel the warmth, the love, his scarce yet reassuring words.
‘There are no better toasts than those made by your eyelashes’, he had told you in whispered bliss.
You smiled at the memory ― a heavy, comforting sensation wrapping around your heart, blanketing your whole being.
“What’s on your mind, cariño (honey)?”
You didn’t want to press him, just wanted him to open up if he felt the need to. Javier stirred to lay down on his side ― his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses nuzzling. The intimacy of his closeness made you swoon, but his words wore you down ever so slightly.
“Judy Moncada. Los Pepes. The CIA. The newspaper. All of it, really.” You felt the pain in his voice as your own.
You knew how hard he had worked, for all of it to be taken away so quickly, so dismissively. He had been the scapegoat, and it almost ruined him. No wonder why he took a step back and returned to Laredo.
It still made your blood boil how the town had received him, how they treated him like a pariah. But it was their fucking loss. If they were too blind to see Javier Peña for who he really was, then Javi had not really lost much. You were just glad you had not listened to Alejandra the first day you met him ― otherwise it would have been a great loss to you.
You kissed his forehead, his closed eyes ― his eyelashes tickling the fragile skin of your lips. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his mouth while he enveloped you in a tight embrace.
“Life’s so unfair, I wish I could make them see. See who you really are, Javi. But some people are too stubborn. It’s easier to believe lies rather than the truth. It’s their loss.” You spoke softly, understanding where his train of thought was going.
Javi didn’t reply ― he just kissed your neck in silent gratitude, the hairs of his kempt moustache making you feel ticklish.
“Since last night we were― uhm, busy,” to put it mildly, “I was thinking that today we can do what I had planned for last night.” You suddenly said to distract him.
You couldn’t see, the darkness enveloping you both, but you knew his brows were knitting in confusion.
“What had you planned?” He asked, curiosity staining his question.
You smiled.
“Well… Since you don’t know, it’ll be a surprise.”
7:46 AM.
“Is it really broken?” You pouted from the other side of the counter, walking around to meet Javi.
He had a handheld mixer and was insistently pressing on the button to turn it on to no avail. He clicked his tongue.
“Yeah, it ain’t working. Gonna have to mix all of this by hand, ain’t I?” You laughed at his frustration, as you took the device from him to inspect it.
Yes, it was broken alright. Damn.
“I’m afraid so.” You removed the whisks and handed them to him. “Unless you’re not up to the task?” You cocked a challenging brow.
Javi scoffed, rolling his eyes and snatching the tools off your fingers.
“Please. I think I can handle a pumpkin cake.”
His offence was faked, and you couldn’t help but giggle. He quickly followed as he started battering everything by hand.
“I’m already done with the cheese frosting. So once you’re finished, we’ll leave it to bake for forty minutes.” You explained, leaning against the counter to watch what he was doing.
“And after?”
“Don’t be so impatient. You finish off here while I go look for… something.”
Javi squinted his chocolate eyes and pouted, shaking his head. He was not going to get you to talk.
“Stay here, and don’t come looking for me!” You threatened, burying a finger in his chest, before running away, smirking.
Two minutes later you were deep down in your closet, searching for the boxes labelled “Halloween decorations”. You had only planned to be in Laredo for a year, but that did not stop you from bringing with you all your seasonal décor. And All Hallow’s Eve, being the peak of your favourite season, had to be celebrated properly.
So, you dragged the two boxes out and then dived back in. On your tiptoes, your fingers brushed the rectangular box you were trying to reach for on the top shelf. But as much as you tried, you were not tall enough to get to it.
“Need a hand there?”
You quickly turned around ― Javier had sneaked behind you and scared the shit out of you.
You slapped his shoulder, and he cackled.
“Don’t do that! Almost had a heart attack!” You joked, although your heart was really pounding against your ribcage.
“Let me help with that.” He offered.
Javi easily reached for the box and took it down.
His brows touched each other when he saw what the box was. Then looked back at you with question marks dancing in his pupils.
“I think I got the wrong box.”
You shook your head no, suppressing a laugh.
“No, that’s the right one.” You curled your fingers, your palm extended towards him, asking for the box.
Javier reluctantly gave it to you.
“I don’t get it. You’re like almost two months off?”
You chuckled again, pushing the tall box to your chest as if hugging it. “Can you carry those two boxes to the living room for me, please?”
He obliged, albeit the confusion was still painted on his gorgeous face. You led the way with Javi on your heels. Once you both settled everything on the floor, you spun around to glance at him with puppy eyes and hands laced in a prayer.
“Don’t judge me, okay?” You started off, fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. It’s what my family call a Hallotreen―”
“A Hallo-what?” He interrupted you, a grin fighting its way to the outside.
“Hallotreen. It’s a Halloween tree! Like a Christmas tree, but with spooky decorations! I usually put it up on Halloween night, so it’s ready for All Saint’s Day and All Soul’s Day.”
You extended your arms at your revelation, as if to say, “Isn’t it obvious?!”.
Javi first looked at you blankly, and then erupted in laughter. You couldn’t help yourself but join him as he took a step forward to drape his arms around you, his comforting hands landing on the small of your back.
“God, you’re so full of surprises. I love it, I love you.” You could tell it had slipped from his tongue by mistake, because his fun expression quickly darkened.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden confession. You leaned back a bit, studying his beautiful face, and tilted your head to one side while you considered his words.
“Do you mean it?” You cooed in a hush, feeling so vulnerable, so raw.
Javi’s eyes locked on yours for a never-ending minute. Then they slowly drifted down to your parted lips and nodded as he, unhurriedly, bowed down towards you.
“Yes, I do. I do mean it, pequeña.” He purred, no joking timbre in his words.
Your heart contracted and then expanded in an outburst, your lungs filling up with his minty breath as you tiptoed to meet his mouth before you hummed, “I love you too.”
When your lips crashed, the tenderness pouring from his mouth into yours soothed any lingering doubt. Although sudden, your love was true. You were not imagining it ― Javi felt the same way. You never believed in the tales of love at first sight, but now that you were the protagonist of such story, you definitely did.
The kiss naturally came to an end and Javi pressed his lips against your forehead, holding you still in his hug for a sweet moment. How you wished you could stay between his arms forever.
‘Maybe we do have forever.’ That thought made you slightly emotional. You could see Javi by your side until the end of days. With a family of your own. It just felt natural.
“Alright, let’s do this then. So we put the tree up first?” Javi asked, amused.
You laughed as you took a step back and knelt down to open the box the Christmas tree was in.
“Yeah, and let me tell you. It’s a big one. Seven feet of pure bliss!” You laughed while unpacking it, Javi soon on his knees helping you out, chuckling too.
Ten minutes later, the tree was up, and you both had started to sort out all the Halloween decorations that came in the plastic boxes. There was a big assortment of different bits and bobs, and you directed Javi to get all pumpkin-shaped trinkets sorted first.
Once you had a healthy pile, you both hung all the decorations on the tree with no real pattern. You peppered some pumpkins here and there; some autumnal, plastic leaves to make the tree look fuller and fluffier. You also had some Halloween-themed baubles ― one with a witch inside, other with a pumpkin patch, another one with a murder of crows floating inside. You also dotted some stringed pinecones around the tree.
You had been curating your collection for so long now, you had way too much stuff, and Javi quickly picked up on it.
“What are we going to do with the rest? There’s so much here, I’m starting to think you have a problem?” He joked, sinking a finger on your side, tickling you.
You chortled, trying to avoid his tickling attack. Javi grabbed you by the elbow and forced you to slam against his chest.
“Well… I must confess. If you think this is a lot, it’s because you have not seen my Christmas collection.”
His eyes widened in feigned horror, and then laughed.
“Can’t wait for Christmas then.”
You smiled at him before gently kissing his collarbone. Then you faced the Hallotreen, holding his hand in yours.
It was a masterpiece. The perfect balance of different hues ― oranges, browns, reds, dark greens and some black dotted around. It looked perfect with all the trinkets filling it.
It made you so happy, you clapped your hands before turning to look at an enlivened Javi.
“It’s just missing the final touch.” You announced as you rummaged through one of the boxes and took out the best piece of them all, presenting it to Javi as if it was the Holy Grail. “Ta-dah!”
It was a figurine of Jack Skellington, from one of your favourite movies ― The Nightmare before Christmas. Jack was on a sitting-down position, perfect to crown the tree.
“It’s a Jack tree-topper. I almost fainted when I first saw it a few years ago. It cost me $100, but it was worth every. single. penny”, you punctuated ― you would smack him if he said otherwise.
Luckily, Javi agreed with you with a pleasant hum and a crooked smirk.
“Let’s put it up then, the King of the Pumpkin Patch needs to have a good panoramic view of his kingdom.” He jested and you were so happy with the reference, you could only love him a bit more ― if that was even possible.
Out of nowhere, Javi knelt down in front of you, his back towards you. He looked over his shoulder at you, brows furrowed, when you didn’t move. Javi lightly patted his shoulder.
“C’mon, up.”
“What? You want to carry me on your shoulders?” You asked, confused.
“Yeah, how are you gonna reach the top if not? That’s seven feet.”
You took a step back, gripping the tree-topper tight between your hands and let go of a guffaw.
“Nope, not happening. I’m gonna crush you! I’ll get a―”
A perfect eyebrow raised into his forehead, and he scrunched his lips, his moustache moving from side to side with disapproval.
“I said up.” His tone was commanding ― Javi would not accept no for an answer. “Come on, don’t make me make you.”
With a sigh, you let go of your insecurities and ended up sitting on his shoulders. Javi’s firm hands rested on your knees as he slowly stood up, keeping a perfect balance.
You chuckled nervously as he walked to the tree. Trying to find your own balance, you planted your left hand of Javi’s forehead. Or what you thought was his forehead, because he then complained.
“Hey, I can’t see!”
You looked down ― you had covered his eyes by mistake, so you quickly lifted your hand up and placed it on his forehead.
“Sorry!”
Javi laughed in reply. Reaching up with the hand holding the figure, you were finally able to set it down without breaking it.
“Yay! Done!”
He knelt down again, releasing your knees from the prison of his hands, and your feet finally rested against the wooden floor. When Javi got up, you both took a step back to admire such work of art.
“Dare I say myself? This looks amazing, the best Hallotreen I have ever had!” You screeched with excitement, almost jumping in place.
When Javi didn’t respond, you glanced up at him. His eyes, darkened with something deep and warm, were intently studying your face. His expression was so relaxed, so at peace, you knew the nightmares were now a forgotten memory ― at least until tonight.
Knowing you could be a balm to his emotional wounds made your heart twist with longing. You wished you could take it all away, that you could take his place and suffer it all for him, so he didn’t need to. You loved him so dearly, you promised yourself that Javi would never have to go through such trauma ever again.
He lifted one hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear ― such a loving gesture, your heart melted for him.
“What?” You asked, timid, with a nervous laugh.
“Nothing.” He buzzed, hugging you close to his torso.
The kiss started off soft and tender, a mere graze of his lips against yours. And before it became sultry and demanding, the oven’s clock started beeping.
Javi grunted and you grinned. Grabbing his hand, you dragged him to the kitchen.
9:22 PM.
“Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones an emptiness began to grow. There's something out there far from my home. A longing that I've never known…” Jack was lamenting on the background.
Javier couldn’t help but look at you over his mug of hot chocolate. You were laying down on the couch with your back against his chest, tightly gripping your mug and buried under a fleece blanket. The living room was dark, only two sources of light: one was the TV playing Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas, and the other was the string of lights wrapping around the Hallotreen.
He could grow used to this, to you. Jack’s Lament somewhat resonated with him ― there was a longing in his heart he had never known before. And that longing now had a name ― yours.
Javi had to suppress a lopsided smirk when you kept on mumbling the lyrics of the song. You knew all the dialogue, all the songs, every single scene. And he let you talk throughout the movie, because he loved listening to all the comments you needed to let out. You were far too excited ― and so was he.
Yes, he could definitely get used to this. To you.
If you didn’t mind, he’d like to join you by your side.
Where you both could gaze into the stars and sit together, now and forever.
For it was plain, as anyone could see, you simply were meant to be…
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i was gonna draw more of this before i posted it but drawing is hard and i drew these like 400 years ago. so here it is
generator rex swap au, a little about it under the cut
beverly swaps with rex
césar swaps with holiday
black knight swaps with six
circe swaps with noah
i considered van kleiss and white knight swap but their personalities just. would not work in each others scenarios. like the vibes are all off. so they dont swap at all its just regular for them
heres evo rex
#generator rex#my art#i call this au#weaver bev#beverly holiday#caesar salazar#black knight#rex salazar
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