#everything is (para)normal

[paracosmicka]

They should invent a new kind of body that doesn’t make scabs and the bits of dead skin so peelable

[johnnyvalance]

call me apathetic but i think this fandom has an unhealthy attachment to people who they don’t actually know and all need to collectively take a deep breath and a step back

[quietlyblooms]

sits here all cutesy. so. chiyo's arcane verse... we're gonna knock into some spoilers, so i'm putting a read more! also so sorry, but i definitely rambled my heart out exploring this topic :' )

one plot point i keep turning over in my head is the idea of chiyo's father either becoming ill or injured and eventually finding his way to viktor's lil community in zaun. i don't know that chiyo would bring him there herself -- she's a skeptic. i think it's more likely that she would scope out this " healer " prior to dragging her dad down there, and i'm?? a little torn on whether she'd be convinced. she doesn't trust people easily, much less an entire community of people, so part of me thinks she'd be apprehensive no matter how peaceful and happy everyone seems.

yet i have to consider how desperate she might be. is her dad suffering from an injury that will heal but perhaps leave him disabled, or is he dying? that's up in the air for me since i'm hammering out details. i also have to consider whether her dad would let her or anyone take him to see viktor... and yeah he would. not for his sake but bc he can tell his daughter or whoever else needs this. they need to try to save him.

that's why i'm tempted to make it higher stakes. so often chiyo is robbed of the opportunity to simply try to protect her loved ones, and not just in this verse. i put her on the sidelines a lot despite her nature. she would do anything for the people she loves, but when she's playing a support role, there's only so much she can do.

and in this verse, she loses kojirou. there's already one death ( if not others among the firelights ) she couldn't prevent, and his stings in particular bc chiyo wasn't there when it happened. she was off living her cushy life while kojirou had his light snuffed out. that tears her apart, changes her. i can't dive too much into that here, but she has to save her dad. she can't let another loved one die. if there's something she can do, she has to do it.

of course, if viktor heals her dad, she loses him in the end. jayce's actions and the ensuing chaos ensure that. and again, there isn't anything chiyo could have done. in fact, she expedited his death -- that's how she'll see it. which... she'll carry that for a while, i think. and i wish i could say she eventually learns she can't control what happens to those around her, but :' )) i think that experience will just solidify her resolve to struggle against the odds and trust her gut.

perhaps she becomes more accepting of the fact that there will be times when her efforts are a waste, but chiyo is stubborn as hell. the people she loses will only motivate her to fight harder, push further, yell louder, pay closer attention. be better. do better. for them. that sort of mindset.

[kasylikeskiwi]

Inktober Day 1

I'm doing a self-made inktober prompt list of songs that I associate with ocs. So im just gonna rant about the symbolism and stuff that I attempted as if I actually know what I'm doing

Here's the first one!

right where you left me actually inspired Kayla's whole Thing, because her mind is stuck in the past and present simultaneously. She isn't really tied to a place from her past like other ghosts are, but she is tied to a person. Unfortunately, said person is supposedly dead.

since the song is about being stuck in one moment as the world moves on, it just fits pretty well with how Kayla feels so distant from everything and why. Also, she's a very spacey person with her head always in the clouds, so holding on to the ideal of a person who isn't in her life anymore is basically exactly what she does.

I wanted to keep the person who's holding her without features, because I can at least pretend that there's some mystery behind who it is lol. I usually tend to color in my silhouettes but I kept this one blank because it felt more comforting, and more airy. Also, she's balled up as much as she can be, like a child in need of protection. It's also a way of showing how she keeps herself small to allow this idea to consume her.

[balladetto]

cont. from here / @gloryseized

     Forgot. He forgot.

     An isolated part of Link knows that isn't the right word for it. Realises, distantly, how unfair this maybe is of him — as though this is something Shion should think to remember for him when he only knows the bits and pieces of Link that are polished enough to be seen. As though Shion's the strange one for being some amount of normal about the moon. But this is how he puts it: I forgot, and the voice that would argue against the surge of hurt that spears through Link's veins is not loud.

     ( He's too cold with fear to care to strain his ears to listen for it. )

     The world bleeds in cinders, ashes of red that curl up in the lungs breathing them in like wildfire fumes. Everything sways. Everything shudders. It's the trembling of an earth that cannot move away from the moon that seeks to consume it, and Link— braces himself, stumbles over himself, catches himself on too small hands and knees; is in two places at once without it registering that he's actually stuck, actually frozen, actually unmoved from where he's standing and sinking into a shell carved from echoes of another time and world.

     The head won't shake. The fingers dart down, then up, then for the pouch they will not ungrip as nnnn clings to gritted teeth. It's a twitch of a sound he can't fully release while Tatl urges in an ear, the song! The song, play the song!

     Link doesn't know what this is. He doesn't know what the moon wants. He doesn't know how to ask when all he can do is look up at Shion, heart pounding a horrified rhythm, and think of what he will lose to the ocarina he can trace beneath the leather separating it from his touch this time.

[vullabies-and-skeledirges]

i think w e should all stop and take a moment to appreciate the complex network of mutualistic symbiosis between the fidough line, the yeast cultures in their breath, paldean wheat, and humans. theres a dog whose natural symbiosis with a fungus paved the way for a partnership with humans, who then selectively bred their natural plant-growth pheromones to be specifically effective for wheat so they could be even more helpful for making bread. how cool is that you guys

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Vanilla Tobacco

summary: would you ever be enough for joaquin?

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MATURE/MINORS DNI, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), internal angst, yearning, insecure!reader, fluff, love confessions

wc: 3,115

an: this fic idea came to me while i was listening to vanilla tobacco by eloise 🫶🏾

danny ramirez characters masterlist

You and Joaquin spend more time together than you expected to, but that feeling creeps in when the first streams of light peak through his curtains.

That feeling is exactly what you’d been worried about when you and Joaquin first started.

Since the beginning, you felt like Joaquin was out of your league. Not because you weren’t in one of your own— you had plenty to offer—but because you’re just a civilian. It feels silly when you really think about it, but you don’t have any special abilities, no training, and you certainly aren’t a mechanical or quantum genius.

You’re just a person. A normal person with not much but yourself to give. And while it was a lot to give, would it be enough for someone like Joaquin? You weren't sure.

It’s what you’re thinking about when he stirs beside you. You quickly close your eyes, trying to settle back into the mattress but Joaquin can feel the tension in your muscles as he stretches against you.

Lips brush the spot beneath your ear and his voice thick with sleep but smooth, “Buenas días, cariño.”

“Buenas días,” You murmur softly, sinking back against him when his arms circle you.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Hmm?”

“You were awake, probably laying there worrying about everything under the sun. So what was it today?”

He’s observant. Too observant in this case.

“Nothing important.”

He taps your hip, prompting you to roll over to face him. “It’s important if you’re worrying about it. C’mon, querida, lay it on me.”

“It’s just…gallery stuff,” You say hesitantly. “There’s an artist I’m hoping to hear back from.”

It isn’t a complete lie, there is an artist you would die to have in the gallery you help manage. But it’s the weekend, you know you’ll hear back eventually. With Joaquin, you don’t have the courage to ask the right questions.

“I’m sure you’ll hear back from them soon. They’d be lucky to be working under you. I mean look at that,” he points to a piece you painted that’s now hanging on his wall.

You hadn’t planned to give it to him though your relationship with him had inspired it. He’d come over one day and begged you to give it to him, not knowing he’d been the inspiration.

Your cheeks warm at his praise, at the meaning of the piece, unbeknownst to him. Shaking your head you insist, “That’s nothing.”

“It’s from your hands,” He counters, eyes warm.

His faith in you and your artistry make your heart race a little, that feeling returning. You try to swallow it down, distracting yourself by running a hand through his soft hair. “If you wanted in my nonexistent pants, you could just kiss me.”

His eyes go from warm to scorching, and he pinches your thigh playfully. “Maybe I wanted to compliment you first. I get to do that, you know.”

You’ve got him right where you want him, and you know that with his touch, with his kiss that all those worrying thoughts will fade to the background.

“Compliment received. Now what?”

The depth of Joaquin’s hunger bleeds through when he leans in to kiss you. His mouth is insistent, entitled as he kisses you deeply. He pushes you back against the sheets, both his arms coming up to pin your wrists down on either side of your head.

“Vamos a alistarte para mí, ¿hmm?” He asks, his lips brushing yours with every word.

“Mhmm, yeah,” you breathe, kissing more firmly at his mouth.

He returns your kiss for a few seconds before he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently. He starts a trail of these bites downward, your neck, your breasts, tummy and eventually thighs as he spreads your legs wide.

His mouth stays that way even as he eats you out; eager and demanding. He knows exactly what to do to get you to shiver and whine, his tongue alternating between sucking at your clit and dipping inside you to taste more of your slick. This combination takes you high quickly and once you’re relaxed for him, he slides his cock inside of you in one thrust as he kisses you gently.

With each roll of his hips, the tip of his cock feels like it’s kissing your womb, like he’s trying to dig himself further inside you.

“Joaquin, fuck,” You whine, one of your hands gripping his hair roughly.

He groans as pleasurable pain bursts against his scalp; he welcomes the way you sometimes pull his hair or bite the muscle of his arms. He bends to kiss the tip of your nose, shushing you. “Shhh, yo sé. Just take it for me, hmm, amorcito?”

You let out a gasping breath, nodding softly. It feels like he’s in your guts, in your throat but taking him is what you want. What you both want. “Okay,” You breathe, trembling beneath him as the band inside you winds tighter.

“Hold me close, querida,” He coos, finding more stable purchase on his knees so that his thrusts can come quicker and harder.

It’s a familiar dance that your bodies fall into, hips kissing in a rhythm that bring you both closer to the prescipe of your highs. Joaquin’s mouth is always busy, either praising you with how well you take him or leaving bites along your neck and shoulder.

You fall apart around him, biting your lip to hold in the wanton groan.

Joaquin bends to take control of your lips, shaking his head as he does. “Quiero oírte,” He mumbles against your lips.

It’s impossible then for you to resist; how could you deny him what he wanted if it was in your power?

Your body shakes beneath his, squeezing his cock tight as you whimper and moan beneath him. While you’ve always felt self conscious about how loud you can get, Joaquin has reassured you that he loves it. You should believe him with how quickly he unravels as your moans spill into the air.

He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth trying to swallow your sweet sounds as he fills you with his cum.

You’re exactly where you want to be— surrounded. By the scent of sex and Joaquin, by his warmth and his praise. By his desire.

—

The next time that feeling shows its face is just a couple weeks later. You woke up with a start, your brain playing games with your heart even as you slept. The sight of Joaquin soundly asleep in your bed should’ve helped but it sent you further into a panic.

You love him, that much is sure. But could you ever tell him? Would you be enough?

Slowly, you reach over to grab your phone off the nightstand before slinking out of bed and into the kitchen. You call one of your closest friends, Eden; they’ve been privy to the entire journey Joaquin. They know how much you care for him.

As usual you skip the pleasantries, too far in your frenzy. “I have to end things with him.”

Eden has been quite patient with you despite your flip flopping nature. Even now. “Why’s that?” They ask, like the two of you haven’t had this conversation multiple times now.

“You know why.”

“I know why you think, but like I’ve said before I don’t think that’s true.”

“He’s a superhero.”

“And you’re somebody’s too. Managing a gallery at your age isn’t something that just happens, usually you’re just assisting.”

“Yeah, but I’m not saving anyone’s life.”

“No one’s expecting that from you. Least of all Joaquin,” They reason easily.

“I just don’t want to disappoint him. Maybe I haven’t yet, but I probably will and I think that would hurt more than me just ending things while we’re ahead.”

“Are you really ahead if you’re in love with him?”

“He doesn’t know that I’m in love with him. That would scare him off too I bet.”

“Did you call me so I could confirm your delusions or challenge you?”

Your voice grows softer as your words grow more vulnerable, “I don’t know, I just— I woke up in a panic and when I looked at him I had to face everything that I might lose. Waking up next to him means more than I ever thought it would.”

Eden’s tone is much more tender when they speak again, “Honey—“

“Querida? You in here?” Joaquin calls, his voice sounding much closer than you would like.

If you could hear him so easily, could he hear you?

“I have to go, he’s up. I’ll call you later,” You hang up just as Joaquin appears in the hallway, giving him your best reassuring smile. “Mornin’.”

He tilts his head, hair fluffy and mused. He studies you for a moment. “Que pasó?”

“Nada. Fue Eden.”

“They okay?” He asks, slowly closing the space between the two of you.

“Yeah they’re totally fine.”

His gaze lingers a beat longer than usual and for a moment you think he’s going to say something that confirms he overheard. Instead, his hands cup your cheeks, and he examines you further, his eyes so soft and warm. “You okay?”

You shut your eyes, leaning into his hands with a soft hum.

“Eyes open,” he challenges.

Silently sighing, you open your eyes, finding his gaze toxicating and grounding all at once. “I’m okay. Dame un beso,” you whisper.

Joaquin is still at first, and you can feel the way his eyes dig into you, searching for whatever you’re trying to hide from him. Whatever he sees, if anything at all, he must not be ready to talk about. Or maybe, he’s respecting your autonomy.

The way his hands cradle your face changes into something nurturing and delicate. “Besos a la orden—pero solo porque me lo pediste bonito,” he teases.

His kiss is much like it always is, unyielding and hypnotic. He has you pinned against the counter with nowhere to go. If your hands are any indicator where they’re clutching at his shirt, there’s nowhere you want to go anyway.

As always, you and Joaquin work together seamlessly, your hands moving up to thread through his hair as his move down to grip your hips and hoist you on the counter.

“What do you want, hmm? Who?” he asks, breathless from thrusting himself into the cradles of your thighs.

“You,” you mumble clumsily into his mouth, too occupied with tasting his tongue.

“Soloamente yo?” he grits out, nipping at your lip.

There’s a new and charged intensity in the way his mouth is against yours, the way his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips.

There is no hesitation in your answer. “Yes.”

“Porque?”

“Hmm?” you hum in confusion, breath catching in your throat as his fingers slide into your panties to find your clit.

Why do you want him? What kind of question is that— why wouldn’t you want him? The true question is why does he want you? But you aren’t allowed to slip into that thought pattern, his voice bringing you back to the present.

“Porque?” he asks again but he doesn’t let you respond. He keeps talking, his voice and fingers relentless. “Porque tu eres mía. Entiendes?”

“Si, soy tuya,” you whine as two of his thick fingers slip inside you.

—

It’s been a few weeks now since that day. You’re still thinking about how intense Joaquin was that morning, wondering what had gotten him so riled up. He had spread you across your kitchen counters and kept you pinned there with his fingers and mouth for minutes on end, eventually dragging you down to the floor to lose himself inside you. Whatever that was felt like a new piece of him you had unlocked, carnal and passionate. The thought sends a shiver down your spine— it feels like you can still taste him and feel his touch.

There’s a knock on your door and Joaquin starts to tease you right off the bat, “You always daydreaming on the clock like this, querida?”

You jump, grateful that you had decided to take your work back to your office instead of working in the lobby with how distracted you seem to be.

Scrambling, you reach for some papers in an attempt to look like you’re working. “Oh fuck, Joaquin. Hi. Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were out of town.”

“We finished up early.” He leans on your desk, bending to place a kiss on your forehead. “I’m here because I want you to get dinner with me. You down?”

“Definitely, but I’m not off for another hour.”

“An hour, huh?” He looks at his watch, squinting. “I could make something shake in that hour. I’ll pick you up then.”

“O-okay,” you confirm before glancing over to your computer screen.

He clears his throat, and you meet his gaze again. Teasingly, he says, “Dame un beso, princesa.”

His words bring heat to your face but you can’t help but smile whenever Joaquin teases you; it’s so him. You stand from your desk, palms pressed into stacks of paper and sticky notes so you can press your lips to his. His hands find your waist and he nearly drags you over the desk, just succeeding in curbing his eagerness to be with you. It makes your head swim and for a moment you forget you’re at work.

The shrill of your phone cuts through the sensual haze and he pecks you on the lips on last time. “I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

You’re able to let yourself slip into a groove when there’s another knock at your door.

You don’t even look up, continuing to type the email you’re writing. “Joaquin, it definitely hasn’t been an hour.”

“So it was him!” your coworker, Daniella squeals. “When he asked for you at the reception desk I thought it was him. Jeff said it wasn’t.”

Jeff makes his way into your office with Daniella on his heels. “I thought he’d be the type to keep romance in the inner circle. Date another avenger or something. How’d you bag the Falcon?”

“We’re just getting to know each other,” you suggest.

“That’s not what he said at the desk,” Jeff retorts.

“Yeah, he said he was your boyfriend,” Daniella sings.

“Well he wasn’t gonna say he’s my booty call. Can you guys let me work, he’s gonna be back to pick me up.”

“Oooo, he’s taking you for a ride on those wings?”

“Dani—“

“Maybe an autograph?” Jeff cuts in.

“Out. Both of you.”

They know you only use that tone when you’re dealing serious and scurry out of your office. You get a decent amount of work done and when an hour has passed you pack up and make your way into the lobby. Joaquin is studying a set of quilts hanging from the ceiling, his back to you. You quickly make your way past the reception desk, ignoring the kissy sounds that Daniella and Jeff make as you walk by.

“Prompt as ever, Torres.”

He glances over his shoulder at you with a grin. “Always. C’mere. Para ti,” He hands you a bouquet of wildflowers before grasping your free hand to pull you close. “This is one of your artists, yeah?”

His question derails you from questioning him on the flowers. “Yeah, the one I was worried about.”

“Told you you’d get it done. Listas?”

“Listo.”

Joaquín takes you to a place you’ve both been a few times, a dining hall comprised of food trucks by the water. There’s collections of picnic tables to sit out, a dessert corner, and even a dance floor.

After making a game plan to get one thing from each truck, you both take your respective routes and agree to meet at a table near the dance floor.

It’s a struggle not let your mind wander as the two of you catch up, telling the other how the last week has gone while munching on your buffet. Jeff’s words had amplified you worries about not being enough for Joaquin.

As always, Joaquin notices but this time instead of confronting you, he wants to give you reassurance. He had heard your conversation with Eden all those weeks ago and in turn could identify when you were getting in your head about your dynamic with him. After some thinking, he realized he was ready to put those questions to rest for the both of you.

He finishes his bite, wiping his fingers before he rests a hand on top of yours. “Dance with me.”

“Joaquin…”

His mouth sets into a pout, eyes going wide. “Please, querida?”

You let out a resign sigh and start to stand, “Fine.”

There’s a slow song playing once he guides you to the dance floor, and he pulls you close, tucking you against his chest.

His mouth brushes your temple when he finally speaks “You’re distracted.”

“I’m not.”

“You barely touched those curly fries, and we got them because you begged.”

You shrug, looking up at him with a frown. “So maybe I’m a little distracted. Work has been a little nuts.”

“It’s not about, oh you know, your conversation with Eden?”

It feels like someone’s poured cold water down the back of your shirt. You stand straight up, creating a small gap between you despite being linked by your hands. “What conversation with Eden?”

“The one where you worried about being enough for me— which you are,” he murmurs.

“No it’s not about that,” you lie.

“Then it’s about the loving me part?”

The nonchalant manner in which he brings it up has discomfort festering in your chest. Did he think it was funny? That your love for him was so inconsequential that he could talk about it like it’s the weather?

“Joaquin I don’t want—“ you start defensively, but he cuts you off.

“Te quiero también. I do. I wish you would’ve told me sooner. Or maybe I should’ve been the brave one, no sé.” He stops, raising a hand to your cheek so that you have to meet his gaze. “But it’s true, I love you too.”

“You do?” You ask skeptically.

“I do.”

“So what does this mean? That you really are my boyfriend?”

He laughs, holding you a little closer as he starts to to sway again. “Your coworkers are chatty.”

“They were bursting at the seams. Jeff wants an autograph.”

“Only if he’s not a pain in your ass.”

“He’ll be one if I don’t get it for him.”

“Then sure, mi amor, I can oblige,” he agrees, kissing your mouth, your temple, your forehead.

You rest your head more firmly on his chest, feeling much less restless. He loves you too. You’re enough for him. He needs you too.

“Thank you, Joaquin.”

“Always.” He assures you. After several moments of reverent silence he speaks again. “Y’know you haven’t said it back, so I’m just wondering if—“

“Yes, Joaquin, I still love you.”

“Just checking,” He murmurs cheekily.

must be 18+/have age in bio to be on the nsfw joaquin torres taglist!

nsfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69 , @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @peacefangirl, @soularsss, @everydaydreamer, @violetpassionfruit

[zoesmp4]

NERVOUS “you’ve got me nervous to speak.” carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: angst to fluff, use of y/n, cussing

a/n: back from the dead!! sorta based on nervous by the nbhd, and there’s also a little tsitp steven and taylor action that i used for inspiration. lyrics r in bold + italics or in between paras. enjoy lovelies!!

the bond between you and carl was truly inseparable. you two had been through it all together, and never once had either of you thought about ending it all.

that was until now.

god, you don’t know how you found yourself in this situation. he’s just a friend. he’s always been just a friend. that’s what you believed, and that’s what you always told people. 

so how come, all of a sudden, he started becoming more than that? how come, out of the blue, you started getting butterflies at his gaze? it was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t like it. you didn’t like it at all. 

you didn’t wanna do anything to jeopardize your beloved friendship, especially over something so dumb. you weren’t gonna lose everything all because of a stupid crush. so, after ages of decision making, you finally set your mind on a reasonable solution.

should i be quiet?

you were just gonna take some time to yourself. you were gonna stop talking to him for a bit. that’s all you needed, just some space. it couldn’t be that hard to lose feelings. besides, he would understand, right?

he in fact did not understand. “wanna come over? i just finished reading that comic you wanted.” he said, a grin plastered onto his face. “not today.” you quickly shut him down, and you could see the happiness on his face slowly fade away.

“oh, that’s fine. tomorrow?” you felt so bad. you really did wanna hang out with him, but you had to push away these feelings first. “i just need some time to myself for a while.”

your felt your heart pang when you looked at his expression. he gave you a slight smile, attempting to mask his disappointment. but you knew him. you knew him well enough to know he was upset. “yeah, i get it. i’ll see you later y/n.” he said, walking away. all of the energy he had when he approached you was long gone now.

it had been days, weeks even. you hadn’t uttered a word to him. so why wasn’t it working? why did you still long for him? it was so frustrating. 

not to mention, you were a mess. you would often find yourself with your head buried deep within your pillow, sniffling as tears flowed down your cheeks. on top of that, you weren’t getting enough sleep. you just missed carl. 

you figured the best thing you could do for yourself was to just get some fresh air. after all, it was no use trying to fix stuff with carl, you already fucked it all up. 

you took in the breeze, as you fiddled with your fingers. if it was a normal day, you would’ve been happy. you loved the cold, but today it was different. today, it made you feel numb. it made everything worse. 

you tried getting it off your mind. you tried to think about other things, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the look he had on his face the last time you talked to him. his smile was wiped clean off his face, and it was all your fault. 

you started to feel your eyes prick with tears. a single drop slowly traveled down your face, and you quickly wiped it off with your sleeve. 

you just wanted to cry, but you weren’t gonna let yourself do it out in the public. after all, once you started crying, you weren’t gonna stop. so, you turned around and picked up the pace. you were headed back home, where you could be vulnerable. 

your head was faced down, trying to hide your glassy eyes from anyone who could potentially see. “y/n?” you hear someone call out to you. the voice sounded familiar, and you instantly knew who it was without even lifting your head in the slightest. 

it was carl. you had to get away. just pretend you didn’t hear him, you thought to yourself. your footsteps quickened, until you heard his pleading voice once again. 

“just talk to me. please. is it something i said? i’m sorry for whatever i did.” 

“you didn’t do anything. it’s me. it’s all my fucking fault because my stupid self caught feelings for her best friend.” you wanted to say, but you restrained yourself. 

you finally came to a stop, turning around to face him. as soon as you met his gaze, you wanted to cry the hardest you’d ever cried before. 

he slowly stepped closer to you until his taller figure was in close in front of you. “can you please talk to me? you know i won’t get mad. you know i’m listening. so please, just please tell me what’s been bothering you.” he begged, his eyes softening. 

you let out a sigh, still sniffling. “it’s not your fault carl.” you said, your voice barely audible. “then what is it?” he said, keeping his voice at the same, calm volume. 

“i-i like you, and it’s really embarrassing.” you confess. you instantly regret your choice of words when you see a frown start to appear on his face. “i don’t know what i was expecting, but that was really fucking mean.” he says, about to walk away.

“no, carl. it’s embarrassing because of how much i like you.” there it is. that’s what you’ve been holding in. it felt weird hearing the words coming out of your mouth. “how is that embarrassing?” he questioned, the tender look started to come back on his face. 

ask me and ill tell you how i’ve been

“i- it’s like i forgot how to act around you. i’m always scared i’m gonna mess up. you’ve got me nervous to speak.”

that was the last thing you managed to get out before he pulled you into his chest for a tight hug. the dam holding your tears back broke.

the wetness stained his shirt, but he didn’t care. he rubbed your back with his arm, soothing you. you missed his embrace, the feeling you would get when you were in his arms felt heavenly.

after a few more seconds of the hug, carl shifted his hands to your shoulders. he softly pushed you back a little bit to get a look at your face.

he reached for your face to wipe any tears. “m’ sorry for ignoring you.” you said, voice soft and quiet. he shook his head, giving you a gentle smile. 

“you’re okay sweet girl, don’t worry about it.” he said. “i-it’s not okay. i ignored you for so long, i just cut you off like that. without a single warning. it was so inconsiderate and i’m really sor-” 

hush, baby, don’t you say another word

“you never shut up do you?” he said, cutting you off mid sentence before he crashed his lips onto yours. your eyes widened, and your movements froze before you slowly adjusted to the kiss. your eyes fluttered closed before you hesitantly tilted your head to get closer.

this was a new experience for the both of you, but it felt like he had years of practice. the way his hands made their way around your body, it sent shivers down your spine.  

after what seemed like an eternity, you both pulled away. the sounds of your mixed heavy breaths filled the air. carl’s hand reached for your face before he wiped your slightly smudged chapstick. 

he then tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. the gesture made the butterflies in your stomach act up more than they ever had in your life. 

i got goosebumps all over me

“next time, just let me know what’s on your mind, yeah?” he asks. “okay.” you say, looking at him with pure admiration. “that’s my girl.” 

[replacementcodeau]

bueno la razón y el motivo por el que todo inicio fueeee porque pomni se quedo dormida durante 2 meses

la historia como mencione comienza inmediatamente después del piloto después de la escena de la cena ella del estrés y agotamiento mental se termina desmayando sobre su plato la ayudan a ir a su cuarto donde se queda dormida 2 meses después ella despierta tras una pesadilla, seguía asustada y muy desconfiada evito a todo el mundo y se escondió bajo unos cubos aun no aceptando la realidad e intentando despertar ahí caine la encuentra e intenta ayudar a que se relaje ===============================

well the reason and the reason why everything started was because pomni fell asleep for 2 months

The story, as I mentioned, begins immediately after the pilot. After the dinner scene, she ends up fainting on her plate due to stress and mental exhaustion. They help her go to her room where she falls asleep. 2 months later she wakes up after a nightmare, she was still scared and very distrustful. She avoided everyone and hid under some cubes, still not accepting reality and trying to wake up. There Caine finds her and tries to help her relax.

saca un álbum de recuerdos y comienza a contarle historias de cosas que sucedieron antes de que ella llegara, intentando hacerle ver que el circo podía ser divertido si tan solo lo intentara (la primera interacción confortante para pomni y la primera vez que alguien parecía disfrutar pasar tiempo con caine) luego de unas horas ella volvió a quedarse dormida y caine la llevo a su cama (al día siguiente ella despertó con normalidad y nunca mas volvió a dormir por más de 1 noche xd) ==================================

He pulls out a album and starts telling her stories about things that happened before she arrived, trying to make her see that the circus could be fun if she just tried.

(the first comforting interaction for pomni and the first time anyone seemed to enjoy spending time with caine) After a few hours she fell asleep again and Caine put her to bed. (the next day she woke up normally and never slept again for more than 1 night xd)

y así es como inicio total lo cuento porque para cuando salga esta parte de la historia ya se habrán olvidado XD ====================

and that's how this story started

I tell it because by the time this part of the story comes out you will have already forgotten XD

[syllvarin]

Non-traumagenic plurality: How could it be possible?

First off, let's start with what some anti-endo folk mean versus what they don't mean with traumagenic plurality

They mean systems caused by/as a response to trauma and traumatic events, and those who are still affetced by them, aka systems who are disordered, DID/OSDD/UDD.

What they don't mean is systems who have trauma in their origin along with other causes. They do not believe a system can very well be traumagenic but function smoothlessly due to recovering, or have multiple origins.

Note: We are a diagnosed DID system with mixed (trauma/ramcoa/neuro/para) origins. Yes, we know what we are talking about. No, that doesn't mean we can't do mistakes, but we will try our best to be as accurate as possible. We will include scientific articles, DSM-5 DID checklist, and many more in this post.

How can that be possible?

1st: Brains are quite complicated. Research on brain functions is far from being complete, it is a long road that we are still at the very beginning of. We still don't know how brain exactly works let alone how it can form seperate conscious identities and work them together. We do know headmates exist based on brain MRI's ( link here ) That proves us that systems indeed, exist.

2nd point i want to make is that science is not done in a linear fashion. We are studying to be neuroscientists ourselves and the very core of what makes science doable is MONEY. Yes, in this capitalist system even the most seemingly basic research requires funding, money, and a goal that can be monetized to get done. Reseaches on female autonomy, rare disorders and "demonized" disorders such as DID is therefore not often as it is not easily capitalized and funded.

Therefore we do not have enough research to prove or disprove that the only way of becoming a system is through childhood.

And that brings me to my 3rd point, where we will take a look at what DSM-5 (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition) says about diagnostic crietria of DID. We will see how it is a dissocative disorder, not a trauma disorder.

Found under dissociative disorders (not trauma disorders!), checklist for DID is as follows:

See how none of those checklist include trauma as checklist? Yes DID is commonly caused by trauma but not always. Yes it commonly is created during childhood but not always. Those arent in diagnostic criteria.

Definitive feature is not trauma, it is distinct personality states or experience of possession.

DID is associated with traumatic events, does not mean it requires it.

DID can manifest at almost any age (DSM-5 is saying that, folks)

What's more is OSDD doesnt even have a definitive checklist like DID. it is found under differential diagnosis, with other disorders. PDID (partial DID where one part is frontstuck a majority of the time) is also up to psychiatrist's evaluation rather than a concrete checklist.

4th point is : What about Structural Dissociaton Theory?

This theory is as it goes: The theory of Structural Dissociation works off of the assumption that everyone is born with different ego states that later merge in life. Those different ego states operate for different actions in life, that later integrate into one person during ages of 4-6. Trauma disrupts that integration and causes ANP (apparently normal parts) and EP (Emotional parts). EP's are stuck in the trauma while ANP's are not.

source: The Haunted Self: Structural Dissociation and the Treatment of Chronic Traumatization" by Onno van der Hart, Ellert Nijenhuis, and Kathy Steele. 

Yes, theory. Theories are not concrete. They can be disapproved, they can change, they may not fit every experience. Structural dissociation only explains how DID can manifest at childhood, but we already know by now that DID can manifest at almost any age.

So I personally think basing everything on a theory about how DID might've been caused (which doesn't even perfectly explain every possible way) is not as fault-proof as one might think it is.

Point 5: experiences of "multiple identities" exist for so long into history (people who are possessed, talk to themselves, act weird at times, are very different at times, etc), way before any DID/OSDD terms were created. And actually, how can we know how many people in history have had this experience when the very society we are in is very scared of them? It is fair to say only the disruptive cases must've been noticed, and majority of them probably were either deemed as crazy or exorcised as they believed those people were possessed by spirits. Just because your experience does not fit with others and just because science hasnt done anything to back them up, doesn't mean people's lived experiences are false. Why would so many people tell that they are a system when they are not? We are not living in a place where being a system is happy or fun, we are not in a society where its profitable or anything. It literally gives a person zero + points for being plural if they arent. It would be a nonstop roleplay they have to keep up throughout every aspect of their life; and at that point, it must be either impossible or that person is already plural and not roleplaying when no one is looking at them.

Creating headmates is on the same basket. A person with DID can create headmates in blink of an eye (we know from oursleves) sometimes splitting threshold is so low you may split off multiple people at once. You cannot know what is going in a person's mind, and what mechanisms work for creating a headmate. If they claim they did, it is very much no chance they are faking being different people 24/7. It *is* a real chance that they actually did develop a headmate. If you do not believe them; ask them about their experiences. I am %100 positive that if you actually listen to them, you will see those people are only trying to live their life.

Also, if you think healthy systems cannot exist and only way to be a system is through dissociation and dysfunction; then why would DID systems try to heal anyway? Wouldn't that just be sanist and ableist to expect all of them to turn into singlets because healthy multiplicity isnt a thing?But no, it is a thing, and healthy multiplicity and recovery is possible for systems. DID and other disordered forms of plurality do indeed exist, and they are indeed, treatabe in multiple ways according to what a person feels comfortable with. That is also a system's right to heal however they please. They don't owe anyone their right to stay as plural or become a singlet.

6th point I want to make is about: Why do we even care?

If a person says they have multiple people in their head, why do we care and tell them they are faking? They are not claiming to have a diagnosis, even if they did; if their situation is causing a distress to them, then they ARE diagnosable and that therefore is none of our business, again.

Last point I want to make is how endogenic DID is possible. yes, possible. remember how trauma is not in diagnostic criteria and DID can happen at any age? If endogenic plurals can happen, they can also form DID at later in life. They can also become disordered due to an event in their life. They can lose harmony and become so dysfunctional they need professional help. That doesn't mean they are no longer endogenic or some other origin, that simply means their state is different than what it was and they need help.

End of our post. Thank you for reading.

[nidalzomlot]

Help me and Support My Family in Gaza

I am 34 years old, and my family and I are in desperate need of assistance.

We are living in constant fear for our lives and the lives of our loved ones. We urgently need your help to find a safe haven where we can live or to escape the horrors of this war.

My Story

Before the war, I lived a normal life with my family in Gaza. We worked hard to build a better future, but unfortunately, everything was lost in an instant. Our home was destroyed, and we lost everything we had. Now, we are living in extremely harsh conditions, lacking basic necessities like food, water, and electricity, and we are suffering from a lack of essential medical care.

Our Current Situation

My family consists of myself, my children Omar, Odi, and Alma

Me and their mom, Azhar, worn down by the relentless struggle, our living conditions are dire, lacking the most basic facilities. Clean water or acceptable diapers are a rare luxury, and the constant threat of violence surrounds us.

We have to believe someone will hear our story. Someone will help us."

You can be that someone. Your donation can help my family escape the horrors of war and start anew in a safe place. With your support, Omar can play soccer again, Odai can build his dreams, and little Alma can finally know peace in a brighter future.

Medical Needs: Some of my family members are suffering from serious health issues that require urgent treatment and medical care, which are unavailable in Gaza.

Shelter: We are currently living in temporary shelter that does not provide adequate protection from the ongoing bombings and the constant danger surrounding us.

Our Goal

We aim to raise funds to:

Safe Shelter

We need a safe place to live peacefully and securely, away from the horrors of war. To secure a suitable apartment with basic necessities—such as a bathroom, water, protection from diseases and pollutants, and shielding from radiation and shrapnel—costs approximately €900 monthly.

Medical Care

Ensuring that our family receives necessary medical treatment and healthcare is crucial. We need funds to cover medical treatments, milk, and diapers for my baby, amounting to €500 monthly.

Escape the War

Our ultimate goal is to relocate to a safer place outside of Gaza hopefully to Egypt. The costs are significant, but the safety of our children and ourselves depends on it.

Here's a breakdown of the costs involved:

Coordination fee for leaving Gaza:

€10,000 per person. We need €20,000 to ensure both my wife, Azhar, and I can leave Gaza safely.

Travel and entry costs to Gaza: €2,000.

Purchasing a home and living essentials in Egypt: €30,000.

Educational and medical expenses in Egypt: €30,000 annually.

Monthly living expenses for food and beverages: €3,000.

How You Can Help

Financial Donations: Any donation, no matter how small, can make a significant difference in our lives. Help us reach our goal by providing the financial support we desperately need.

Share Our Story: Please share our story with your friends, family, and on social media to raise awareness about our dire situation and attract more support.

Moral Support: Words of encouragement and prayers can give us the strength to continue fighting for survival.

Thank You for Your Support

We are grateful to everyone who contributes to helping us during these difficult times. Your generosity and solidarity give us hope and bring us one step closer to safety and stability.

With heartfelt respect and gratitude,

Nidal Zomlot

DONATE HERE

@el-shab-hussein @wellwaterhysteria @nabulsi @irhabiya @sar-soor @appsa @buttercuparry @brutaliakhoa @stuckinapril @schoolhater @three-croissants

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#help

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[paracosmicka]

might be a somewhat awkward question, so feel free to ignore, but how do you usually go about drawing stuff like kissing and cuddling? i would be curious to know your process, because you always manage to portray that stuff as incredibly soft and.. vulnerable? if that makes any ounce of sense. sorry if it doesn’t TvT

No you’re all good this isn’t an awkward question at all! Actually this is kind of a fun ask to answer bc I wanna know if any other people have similar experiences to how I draw lol.

First off, wanna say that there’s a one specific song I’ve listened to religiously for the past 3 years, and it's also the song I listen to most often while drawing sonadow. I feel like it’s encompasses almost the entire range of human emotion while somehow also being able to match exactly to any single specific emotion on that range.

Typing this out now my feelings and experiences with the song might be a little biased because it’s part of the OST for Signalis (which is such an underrated game and especially the soundtrack), but I feel like even if you haven’t played the game it can still give you this melancholic atmosphere. But really it feels like….I feel like there are words to describe what i’m trying to say but I can’t think of any other than like, … an “ethereal comfort”.

Okay sorry about that ramble I just really wanted to give you some context and also I need more people to play Signalis. But anyway to answer your question:

My “Creative” Process: featuring symptoms of autism and insomnia

I like that people use words like “soft”, “intimate”, “tender” in the replies and stuff of my art because (while that is the intention behind a lot of my art) it makes me think about the actual process that took place while I was drawing and if that in anyway impacts the viewer interpretation.

I might have talked about this before on my blog, but if so I can’t remember. So I wanna ask any other artists (or actually just people in general) if they do this too or if it’s something Not Normal because it does concern me sometimes lol. Like it’s probably not that uncommon, but I’ve just never seen anyone talk about this before:

I always (like 90%) fall asleep while I draw, it’s never usually for long, sometimes I just doze off for like 5 minutes, but more often I get a lot of half-hour naps in. It most likely, probably, definitely, literally guarantee is because I do things that, maybe don’t encourage, but definitely make it easier to not stay awake. I listen to more calm music while drawing, all of my canvas templates absolutely cannot be white and instead have to be a warm color with both the saturation and brightness really toned down so it’s like a comforting hazy-yellow. I also have all the lights turned off in my room, especially in the day, because I hate the light-reflection on my iPad screen while I draw.

I know I just listed all those things I do like they were intentional but I only just recently realized I do this because someone pointed out how my background colors are always like a soft-yellow which is apparently not common and I was like “oh yeah I guess you’re right”.

So, to be honest, I’m not really sure how I do draw sonadow kissing and cuddling other than…I just do? I’m sorry I know that’s not very helpful 😭 Like, literally the only tip I can think of is “try to be really eeby and neebies to sleeby” while drawing soft gay hedgehogs, 10/10 doctors highly recommend and another cool perk: no nightmares (at least so far, I always get warm and nice dreams 💖)

I definitely like to use references tho lol. Kids, if you run out of Heartstopper clips or any other cute kissing scenes in your favorite movies and shows, don't be embarrassed to go on Youtube and search “makeout scenes” and watch almost all 300 videos in a playlist that definitely seems like it was created like a bot, because sometimes those are the only references you’re gonna get for kissing animations.

Well, I think that concludes this edition of Unnecessarily Long Dissertation Papers by Paracosm, thank you for the ask anon!!

OH ACTUALLY sorry for promoting another Spotify playlist but I made one specifically for Soft, Vulnerable, and Intimate Sonadow Vibes™️ because as much as I love using my regular sonadow playlist I needed one for pillow and blanky time. It’s got The Red Gate and a lot of other songs with similar vibes so here’s that if you wanna listen :3

WAIT SORRY ALSO???? A friend said that my playlist is the most liked sonadow playlist on Spotify apparently 😭 but I actually don’t know if that’s true I’m just surprised that people actually save it to their libraries (970 likes last time I checked I didn’t even know that many real human people were on Spotify) bc it’s like a million hours long and there is no consistency at all like the music genres will switch from borderline-hyperpop MGNA Crrrta to soft instrumental OSTs to the loud unidentifiable noises of Nero’s Day at Disneyland/Lauren Bousfield’s music.

Okay actually done talking now, I love answering asks because everyone is always so fucking nice and sweet I have teared up at times but because they make me feel so many things every time I sit down to answer one I probably use a good hour or two writing everything out and then quickly proofreading so that my one coworker that follows me on here won’t bully me in public for being an idiot.

But seriously tho, feel free to send me any asks you might have, you are literally never bothering me I love reading you guys’ messages 😭💖!! I wish I had more time to answer all of them but just know I check my inbox at least once a week and try to read all the new ones. My goal is trying to answer at least one a day, which doesn’t always happen but at the end of the week I always make sure to put myself in a Saw trap to answer at least a couple 💖 Seriously just thank you for all the support I feel like I don’t say it enough I love you guys and I love talking with you guys and I love how everyone here is so nice and we can all be cozy and enjoy our gay hedgehogs ☺️

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde.

¿ En serio alguien pensaba que al finalizar el rodaje esto iba a ser pasto del aburrimiento ?

La promoción de NY no necesita más conversación, la interacción entre Sam y Cait habla por si sola por mucho que Mordor se empeñe en echar balones fuera pero llega el ultimo día de rodaje y firman que aquí acaba todo, cada uno por su lado, después de todo su relación solo se basa en el trabajo pero ¡¡¡¡¡ SORPRESA !!!!! Sam tiene un acto marcado con la etiqueta de negocio y su compañera de trabajo, después de un día de muchas emociones que pide calma y relax, aparece en el. Vamos a pensar que como ella también está en el negocio del alcohol va para tomar nota pero ¿ donde esta su "socio" en el ? La aparición de Cait en la fiesta del primer aniversario de Thegardensheddrinksco acompañada de su "socio" caballero con claros signos de pasar mucho frío a pesar de los looks más veraniegos del resto de asistentes, levantó una buena polvadera por qué era normal que asistieran juntos, entonces ¿ Porque el no asiste a este si todo está relacionado con el negocio del alcohol ?

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Gracias por los excelentes comentarios que haces aquí. Siempre es Navidad cuando envías algo, así que me apresuro a traducirlo:

'Did anyone really think that the end of filming was going to be boring?

The NY promotion doesn't need any more discussions, the interaction between Sam and Cait speaks for itself no matter how much Mordor insists with the blaming game, but the last day of filming arrives and they are adamant that this is where it all ends, each one on their own, after all their relationship is only based on work. But SURPRISE!!!!! Sam has a business event and his coworker shows up there, after a day of many emotions that requires calm and relaxation. Therefore, we could think that since she's also in the alcohol business she showed up to make some contacts, but where's her "partner"? Cait's appearance at The Garden Shed Drinks Co's first anniversary party, accompanied by her gentleman "partner" with clear signs of being very cold, despite the more summery looks of the rest of the attendees, raised quite a stir because it was normal for them to attend together. So why didn't he attend this one if everything is related to alcohol business?'

And just like this, boom! A lightbulb moment, here.

This. This is the million-dollar question: 'why didn't he attend this one if everything is related to alcohol business?'

Exactly. Where is the Director/Secretary/Director of several British and Irish companies, either in-common or separately owned, dealing with alcohol or pubs (LOOOOL)?

The answer is in those damn papers, of course. But there are none so blind than those who wouldn't see.

So, let me sum up the reasoning panic attack across the street:

Stage 1: filming just ended. She will go back to the Glasgow Taj Mahal with no double glazed windows and that's it. He will endlessly get drunk in some random sleazy bar with or without that incompetent saleswoman. They hate each other. So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu. And oh - he is, of course, gay.

Stage 2: ugh, another booze related event in Glasgow, featuring S and his permanent shilling, I am not giving this the light of day. Perhaps nobody will notice?

Stage 3: Queen C would never attend that sordid event, especially when the Peasant is shilling his booze. Nope. Over her dead body.

Stage 4: 🚨🚨🚨there was a woman in that car 🚨🚨. I repeat: 🚨🚨🚨there was a woman in that car 🚨🚨🚨. We know who she is [insert random name here], oh my (pearls sway), he has no shame!!!

Stage 5: there was no woman in that car.

Stage 6: there was a woman in that car, but I am going to fix myself some hot cocoa and fuck you all. In my world, the Eiffel Tower can be a Twinkie. Or the other way round.

Stage 7: confirmation that C attended the event. I have been called out for hiding things. I am, therefore, a victim. I am starting the drama, full cycle. Divert, divert, divert attention. Engage!

Stage 8: this was an OL-related event. The second wrap-up party. No, this was a common friend's birthday. No, this was... ok, this was an after work thing. Nooooo....

Stage 9: there has been an, as yet unexplained, shortage of babysitters in Glasgow on Friday October 25th, 2024. Fathers babysit. That is modern enough and hopefully that avoids more inconvenient questions. Right?

Stage 10: let's quickly post something about irrelevant social media statistics. No, nope, no, I am not unsettled by anything. Nope.

Stage 11: nobody brought his/her better half. Fact.

Stage 12: they are co-workers.

Stage 13: everything happened because of the Shippers.

[kasylikeskiwi]

Inktober Day 4

This one's just a tall joke/j

This one's...oof. Okay. The Moon Will Sing is a song that inspired how I wanted to write Aspen and Crane's relationship in the past. Aspen relied on Crane to be the same person he was when he was alive, but dying and then being raised again changed him. He's more irritable and distant, which Aspen takes personally.

People fuckn love the moon x sun dynamic, and I do too but I like the symbolism the way it's used in this song, as if the moon could not live without the sun. Without the sun, the moon is cast into darkness. It's cold and dangerous, with no light of its own to shine down on earth. I think that's how Aspen used to see herself without Crane around. They grew up together and were always there for each other. She doesn't even know who she is without him. This sword is double edged, but that's for a later prompt.

I specifically played off the line "I bore the shadows that you made" because when Crane was sad, Aspen was too. Crane is also conveniently very tall. It's foreSHADOWing (badum tshhhh) of their inevitable falling apart, because even though Crane is still around, Aspen can feel him leaving and has already entered the mental space of post break-up.

[milla-frenchy]

And all that could have been

1k4 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: the memories of you don’t leave Javi, reminding him of his past mistakes

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv, creampie, mentions of SA (not by Javi), no age specified. Reader has no specific physical descriptions. Writer chose not to use all warnings

a/n: this is for @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge 🥳 Prompt was "last kiss/Javi p"

Thank you @toxicanonymity for the spanish translation 🖤 @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @morallyinept for your amazing Javi character database and dialogue 🌻 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

The title and some sentences said by Javi are from And all that could have been by Nine inch nails

Javi was at his apartment with Helena. She was one of his informers and worked in a brothel, but she meant more than that. He cared about her, and they saw each other regularly at his place.

“¿Qué harás este fin de semana?” (what are you doing this weekend?), he asked her.

“Iré a Medellín” (I’m going to Medellin)

“Bueno, tendré que buscarme otra” (I guess I’ll have to find another girl)

“Buena suerte con eso. Todas nos vamos a Medellín” (good luck with that. We’re all going to Medellin)

His heart sank and worry crept into him. Sensing a very familiar feeling, which had never left him since last year.

“¿Helena? ¿De quién es esta fiesta?” (whose party is it?)

Anxiety took over him, past events playing over and over in his head. Haunting him. And he thought about what happened a year ago. What happened to you.

You didn't plan for any of that. Neither Javi nor you did.

At first, he was a client almost like the others, except that he worked for the DEA, and bit by bit he asked you for information on the sicarios. He always treated you right, never made you feel uncomfortable. You had other clients and you weren’t the only hooker he used to fuck.

You got to know him and trust him as the weeks passed, as he also seemed to, until you realized that he was no longer fucking anyone but you. You used to see him in his apartment more and more often, and less and less at the brothel. When his cock was buried in your core and his eyes looked with yours, his gaze was different. Soft and caring.

One night at his place he lit a cigarette and was smoking it by the window. Looking thoughtfully at the city lights as you were lying in bed, naked, admiring all of him. The muscles of his back, his shoulders, his tanned skin.

When he sat on the bed, his thigh against yours, his hand caressed your stomach which was gradually returning to normal breathing. 

“¿Por qué no paras?” (Why don’t you stop?), he asked.

It wasn't exactly jealousy or possessiveness, more of a concern. You both knew what that implied. You had always been careful not to talk about those feelings you both felt. Scared that it would complicate everything.

He used to try to make you stay at his apartment longer and longer, but of course you always had to return to the brothel. To make some money. To have sex with the men you hated and who disgusted you. Trying to make it bearable you were thinking of something else. You were thinking of Javi.

“Renuncia a tu trabajo” (quit your job),” he finally asked one day.

“No puedo, Javi” (I can’t, Javi)

The more weeks and months with Javi passed, the less you could bear to go back to the brothel. But what other choices did you have? Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks and you batted your eyelashes to try to hold them back.

“You could stay here, with me. You don’t need to go back.”

“You know I can’t. They would find me, and God knows what they would do to me.”

“I’ll protect you. You know I would never let anything happen to you.”

You hugged him as the tears fell, unable to hold them back any longer. You wanted to quit your job and stay with him, but it was impossible. They made sure to let you know what happened to the girls who tried to leave.

“Necesito sentirte dentro. Porfa, Javi.” (I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Please.)

He caressed your cheek and wiped your tears like only he knew how to do. He kissed you with his warm, luscious, caring lips. Soft and delicate. When he lay between your legs you wrapped them around his waist to feel him deeper. His nose brushed against yours, and he kissed your forehead. Your hips were leading a perfect slow dance. He rubbed himself against you in the way he was sure would make you cum. His eyes fixed on yours. The eyes of a man in love, and you started to cry again.

“Don’t cry, hermosa (beautiful). I’ll take care of you and you’ll never have to go back there. Do you trust me?”

You trusted him. With all your heart. You wiped your tears and took his cheeks in your hands.

“I do, Javi.”

He leaned towards you and kissed you, until you came on his shaft, your pussy squeezing him perfectly and making him moan, and you felt his jolts at each rope of cum, painting your walls.

You didn't go back, he took you to a safe house. He exfiltrated you.

And for several days, you only saw Javi.

That evening you laughed and the atmosphere was as light as a summer breeze. You looked at each other smiling like teenagers, and he kissed your hands. Then he held you tight against him. You felt safe and free.

Later that night, as your hips rolled while riding him, you leaned into him and said, “dame un beso” (give me a kiss).

He caressed your cheek as your hands ran through his hair and you kissed. You needed to feel him more. Deeper. You moved away from him and got on all fours, looking over your shoulder as his hands caressed your hips. He slipped into you, in one slow, deep thrust. No one had ever brushed your walls the way he did. Without brutality, without clumsiness, without impatience, without hurting you. Just in a perfect way, like he always knew what to do. Stroking your clit when you needed it, until you came on his cock. His torso enveloped your back and he kissed your skin, before quickly thrusting in to claim you, grunting. 

You just knew that you belonged to each other, in the healthiest, most beautiful way.

In the early morning, he kissed your forehead and lightly stroked your cheek to not wake you up, and left for the office.

In the afternoon, you heard a knock on the door, and thought Javi had forgotten his keys. Your hand grabbed the handle of the white door and you opened it without taking the time to think.

It wasn't Javi.

In the late afternoon, his colleagues told him that a hooker had been killed by sicarios. His heart sank and he almost puked, as if his gut instinctively knew who he would find there. When they lifted the sheet, he fell to his knees on the ground.

Your mutilated and bruised body lying on its back left no doubt about what you had suffered. What they had done to you.

He went back to his apartment and drank until he couldn't remember his name.

A few days later, he visited your grave and placed white flowers on it.

He thought about how he had kissed your forehead that morning. Not knowing that it would have been the last kiss he had ever given you.

“In my nothing, you meant everything to me”, he murmured.

When the memories finally faded, he realized Helena had already left his apartment.

During the following days he had been organizing surveillance in Medellin, with Carillo and Steve. Taking photos, watching the Sicarios arriving one by one at the hotel.

Hours passed without news of Helena, and worry tightened his heart. He couldn't relive that. He was consumed with anxiety.

When he finally found her, he shot the man who was abusing her. Rushed to cover her bruised body. He failed once again, even though he arrived in time for Helena, he wasn’t able to prevent what had happened to her. 

He thought of you, not a day he had not. He thought of all that could have been.

When he visited your grave, and saw that only his last faded bouquet was there, he couldn't hold back his tears.

“I can still feel you, even so far away” he breathed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…”

And he chose to let his anger consume him, rather than letting the tears flow. On his knees in the cemetery, he screamed. He was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were white.

He would dedicate his life to bringing them all down. Even if it meant falling with them. But one thing was sure: Gacha would fall before him.

***********

@janaispunk thank you for the inspiring mood board 🙏

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

[lesvii]

You don’t own me.

One shot

Just a lil something I had in my mind, also this is a fem reader !

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Your relationship with Valeria wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing but you two tried to do what was best for both. Sometimes you just spends countless days alone in her hacienda surrounded with ‘’her best mans’’ just to always keep an eye out for you, when she disappear to make her business deals, it was her form of saying ‘I love you’.

It’s silly to think what could had been if she didn’t have this kind of job.

A drug lord.

Maybe in another universe you two actually had decent jobs and a normal life, but this wasn’t the case.

This time you two just got into a fight, again. It was common now, Valeria’s stress was overbearing since she had just lost over a huge deal thanks to the Mexican fuerzas especiales, it wasn’t your fault and you know it, she knows it too. But in this case everything for her was too much, too much noise, her man talking, you trying to reason with her to take a decent rest.

‘’ Valeria… please just take time to rest, how can you do all of this by yourself in this state?’’.

You said as your hands rested on her desk, pleading at her, she sighed irritated by your comment, you two already had the chat about leaving the cartel, oh how many times you pleaded to her, just for her safety, frankly you didn’t care about luxury and wealth when it came from the suffering of others. But she didn’t see it that way, she worked damn hard to get to the top, she wasn’t backing up now, not even for you.

‘’ I’m fine y/n.’’. Valeria said coldly.

You just stare at her, lost, you sighed as you stand up straight, that’s when she looked at you as she raised an eyebrow.

´´fine.´´ you said as you turn away to exit her office.

‘’Where do you think you’re going?’’ Valeria said with a cold demand.

You slowly turn away to face her again, as you gaze her slowly, analyzing which move would be the correct one and which one will guarantee you the bad side of Valeria garza.

‘’ Well… clearly away, since you wont listen to me anyways…’’ you said, as you crossed your arms.

Valeria gazed you from her desk office as she got up, slowly walking towards you, it was almost mesmerizing, like a lion stalking its prey ready to attack. As she stopped right in front of your face, just a few inches far apart.

‘’ Quién chingados te crees para hablar me así?’’ Valeria said with her strong Mexican accent, in that tone she used to yell to her workers.

Unbelievable you think, after all you’ve done for her, she dares to speak at you like that. You stand there not sure of what to say, at the end you were just as tired as she was.

‘’ You know what I’m not in the mood for this, I’m out.’’ You said as you sighed, closed your eyes to stop the headache. As you were leaving the door, she grabs you by the arm as she pushes you back to her office.

‘’ I’ve asked you a question corazón, huh?’’ Valeria said once again.

You pulled your arm off her grip, as you started to loose patience too.

‘’ I said I’m not in the mood for your little theatrics Valeria! God—‘’ you brushed her off.

She frowns her eyebrows, as she analyzes you with a cold gaze. You could see how the aura in the room changed, as you shook your head, trying to get off the awful feeling.

“I’ve done everything for you. And this is how you react?” Valeria said as she crossed her arms.

You sighed, for a moment you were going to explode but let’s be honest, her and you going mad wasn’t the right move, You chuckled.

“Really Val? Cause from about 6 months you’ve been disappearing every week, I dont even know if your hurt, if your alive even!” I finally said at her, she just looked at you as if she was looking for the correct words to say it.

“You’ve decided to stay with me, you know the consequences of it.” She said without flinching.

You stare at her defeated knowing once again you won’t win this fight, as if someone can win el sin nombre.

“I- you don’t get it do you? It’s getting so tiredly we can’t have a normal conversation every time you decide to turn it into a fight, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” You said as you shook you head stepping away from her

She laughed, as you turned around confused at her.

“What? Do you think I you can just leave here?, asi nomas? ”. She said lastly as her Mexican accent.

You just stared at her, as your vision started to get blurry from the tears in your eyes. You hated when she talked like that. You stare at her confused. She walked around you as if a predator analyzing his prey.

“You aren’t allowed to leave anymore corazón, you decided to stay.. you’ve know too much by now” Valeria said.

You freeze for a second not sure what she meant.

“You don’t own me.” Was the only thing that came out of you, she smirked at you as she laughed.

“Oh… but you do”. Valeria said as she caressed your cheek.

Thx for reading this ! Once again English is not my first language, if I wrote something wrong please feel free to correct me ❤️