#fucking draw no que nada

[emmalandry]

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𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ~ 𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

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༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕓𝕝𝕖༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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"Shh, It's okay querida. Just breathe." Miguel whispers into your ear as he mercilessly pounds into you from behind. "You'll always remember who you belong to right? Even after you marry that estúpido brother of mine?" No response leaves your lip earning you a harsh slap to your ass cheek. "Answer me. You'll never forget you belong to me. You'll never forget that this pussy belongs to me." You let out a whimper "Never Miggy, Never forget that 'm yours." you say practically breathless from how harshly he was thrusting his cock into you.

"Una chica tan buena para mí. Un coño tan bonito también." he whispers in your ear as his thrusts begin to slow down earning a high-pitched whine from you. "My pretty, pretty conejita." Your hands are clawing at the bed sheets trying desperately to hold on as Miguel continues to abuse your cervix with his cock. Pummeling in and out of your hole. "Imagine if Gabriel walked in right now and saw you grinding back against me like a desperate fucked out little slut." He allowed a 'tsk tsk tsk' noise to leave his lips as your pussy begins to flutter and clench around him. "You like that don't you conejita? You like the thought of your fiance walking in and seeing his big brother show his pretty little future wife how BIG he really is?" He growls out. "Yes, Miggy~ Want him to walk in and see how good you fuck me. Want him to know he could never use me the way you do!"

He wraps your hair around his fist beginning to speed up his thrusts signaling that he's near his release. He reaches his hand around your tummy to start drawing quick figure eights on your clit. Your body starts to spasm as the coil in your belly builds up. As his palm bumps your puffy clit and triggers your release. "Fuck yes, cum on that cock bunny." Miguel groans the gushing feeling that comes with your orgasm. He gives you a few last lazy thrusts before he's spewing his hot, sticky seed inside you. "Mierda..." is all he's able to muster out as his cock begins to soften inside you.

He pulls out of you watching your pussy clench around nothing allowing his cum to drip out before grabbing you and yanking you down to lay on top of his chest. He kisses your temple before muttering. "What do you even see in that bastard?" he questions making you raise your head off his chest to look into his eyes. Before moving to rest your face against his shoulder. "Nothing anymore. I used to love him but these past few years he just doesn't bother anymore. I don't want to be with him anymore Miggy..." Tears begin to well in your eyes. "Wanna be with you. Want to wake up next to you every morning. not him." the tears begin to cascade down your face.

Miguel begins to gently draw shapes on your back while he takes his other hand and wipes at your tears. "No no. Don't cry cariño. I'm here its okay." you sniffle and let out a choked breath. "Just can't take it anymore Miggy. He doesn't respect me, I don't love him anymore." your words are muffled as you nuzzle further into his shoulder and neck. "Significas más que nada para mí, conejita. Dejaría que todo el multiverso colapsara solo por estar contigo." He sighs heavily as your tears begin to slow. "Don't want us to be a secret anymore. I want everyone to know how much I love you, Miguel."

"I know cariño. it's just-" he's cut off by the sound of his someone's throat being cleared. You both shoot up, eyes wide in shock at the sight of Gabriel in standing in the doorway with his arms crossed against his chest. "Gabe- I didn't know you were stopping by..." Miguel starts but is quickly cut off by Gabriel flinging his hand up to signal him to stop. "Save it, Miguel. I heard everything. Nunca pensé que caerías tan bajo. But I guess I was wrong." His gaze shifts over to you he has fire in his eyes. He is furious and you're terrified for what he's going to say to you. "And YOU. I brought you home to my family when you had no one and THIS is how you repay me? By fucking my brother for god knows how long. You guys are perfect for each other. The weddings off. I only want to have to see your face If it's when you come to collect all your things. I'm sure Miguel here would be happy to let you move in."

Your lip begins to quiver as it falls into a pout as Gabriel your fiance ex leaves the room and Miguel's penthouse. Your eyes are glossed over. You want to cry again. But not sad tears, no no its happy tears? You're overjoyed to finally be able to be with Miguel. You guess Brotherly Love is the way to go.

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Translation:

querida - darling/dear

estúpido - idiot

una chica tan buena para mí. Un coño tan bonito también - Such a pretty girl for me. Such a pretty pussy too.

conejita - bunny

mierda - shit

cariño - sweetheart

significas más que nada para mí, conejita. Dejaría que todo el multiverso colapsara solo por estar contigo - You mean more than anything to me, bunny. I would let the entire multiverse collapse just to be with you.

nunca pensé que caerías tan bajo. - I never thought you would sink so low.

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𝔸/ℕ: 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕦𝕪𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥! 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕪'𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕠. 𝔸𝕝𝕤𝕠, 𝕀 𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕘𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕠 𝕚𝕗 𝕀 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕞!

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[nonipunssif]

[English/Español]

Guys, Look at what I did now with references :> (it went wrong and I will try to improve)

Chicos, miren lo que hice ahora con referencias :> (salió mal y trataré de mejorar)

Kinger: Tank's for the tea. /Gracias por el té

Caine: You're welcome! / De nada!

It was requested by a friend saying "draw them drinking tea while the others float around", And I said "fuck it, I'm going to do it", and that came out.

The others in the circus are very loose, because the main thing is the ROYALTEETH

Personally, I liked the result :]

[Español]

Me lo pidió un amigo diciendo "dibújalos bebiendo té mientras los demás flotan alrededor", y yo dije "a la mierda, lo voy a hacer", y eso salió.

Los otros en el circo son muy flojos, porque lo principal es el ROYALTEETH

Personalmente, me gustó el resultado :]

[drabbles-mc]

One More Last Time

Benjamín Arellano Félix x Isabella Bautista

For @ashlingnarcos as part of the AU Exchange & For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge. Bingo square: affair

Warnings: 18+, language, infidelity

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Isabella could do anything and everything and she would have my full support no matter what.

NMX Taglist: @garbinge @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @narcolini @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

He could still hear the music that was playing on the other side of the glass, but it was muffled. As he looked out the windows that towered over the rest of the building, the noise and the chaos felt like they were emitting from a radio that was sitting a room or two away from him. The lights all poured in, casting the mostly empty space in all cool hues of purple and blue, the rare splattering of pink.

He watched them all, his siblings, their friends, all the other people they knew and didn’t know who were filling up the space of the club. He took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly as he did. It felt like too much most nights. The thoughts that were currently racing through his head showed that this night was no different than the others in that regard. He was already thinking about how good it was going to feel to be back home again—away from the lights, the noise, the semi-controlled chaos.

The sound of the door opening caused him to whip around, wondering how he’d missed someone coming up the steps to the office. His eyes were wide as he turned and looked, only growing wider when he saw who was stepping through the doorway.

“Hola,” Isabella’s voice was smooth and warm as honey, comfortable like she had any right to be there in the club at all, let alone strolling into his fucking office.

His muscles immediately tensed, hackles going up as the door swung shut behind her. “Qué estás haciendo aquí?”

She laughed, shaking her head as she began to collapse the distance between the two of them. “Por qué estás tan enojado? Tenso?” She stopped in front of him, placing her hand on her chest, fingers splaying across her collarbone. “Solo soy yo.”

He shook his head, knowing far better than to buy into the act. “Qué quieres?”

“Nada,” she answered with a smile and a shrug.

“No mientas,” he shot back instantly with a shake of his head.

“No puedo visitarte?” She tilted her head slightly, some of her hair falling gracefully over her shoulder as she did. “Un amigo querido?”

“No soy tu amigo, Isabella.” His tone was short, an attempt to be cutting.

It didn’t faze her. “Claro que sí,” she drew it out, nodding slowly, more drama than she needed to pack into a situation that was plenty dramatic on its own. “Porque nosotros, Mín? Somos más que—”

“Qué quieres?” he cut her off as he repeated himself, not wanting to allow her to finish where that sentence was going.

She gave him that same smile that she always did, the one that was all lipstick and no teeth, lips upturned enough to draw him in but also just enough to let him know that there was so much more to it than whatever she was saying to him.

He didn’t realize that she was moving until her hand was pressed against his chest. The warmth of her palm began seeping through the fabric of his shirt instantly. Familiar feeling of scorched flesh. He wanted to swat her hand away but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. That was always the problem, wasn’t it?

“Qué piensas?” Isabella asked, standing closer now even though Benjamín swore that he hadn’t heard her take a step towards him.

He shook his head for a moment, like he was about to deny thinking anything at all. Isabella was ready to call him out on it, too. Like that man ever had a quiet moment inside his mind. But then he looked at her, met her eyeline directly and held it for the first time since she’d walked in. “Ya tú sabes.”

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. The movement barely enough to clock but it still let Benjamín know that yes, she certainly did know exactly what he was thinking about, and the slip of her hand up to the side of his neck let him know that she was thinking about it too.

The last time the two of them found themselves in the position that they were, the place that they were, things had been a little different. The strobe lights in the club were off; so was the music. The whole building looked gray, almost dull without them on and just a few scattered maintenance lights illuminating the place. It was more than enough for what they were doing, though.

The last time they were in that office together was also supposed to be the last time it ever happened. But then again, all the times before that were supposed to be the last time too. The argument being that there never should’ve been a first time to begin with.

But now here she was. Again. One more last time. Lights flashing across her face like the universe’s most blatant warning sign. Crowds and crowds of people packed just one flight of stairs below, his siblings among them. The music fighting to seep through the glass, the distant reverberation of the bass coursing throughout the building. All of it should’ve been enough to remind them that it was a bad idea for all the reasons it had always been a bad idea, but now it was also a bad idea because the likelihood of getting caught was higher than ever.

The sensation of her nails dragging lightly along his jawline pulled him out of his own head. His eyes raked slowly up her arm until they reached her face. She seemed so unbothered. She always did, really. Maybe because out of the two of them he was really the only one with things to be bothered over. Sure, there was the business of it all, the plazas, Miguel, all the rest of it. They shared that to an extent. But Isabella didn’t have a family weighing over her head. She had no marriage that would implode if it all got out, didn’t have siblings that would, well, he didn’t really want to give too much thought to that in the moment. The façade of his life was one tap of the glass away from breaking, and Isabella was standing on the other side of the window with a fucking sledgehammer.

“No puedo…” he trailed off.

“Te nunca puedes,” she retorted, her voice soft somehow despite the mocking undertones in it.

He shook his head, enough to cause her fingers to not be brushing against his jaw and cheek anymore. It didn’t cause her to stop touching him. Now her hand was on his shoulder. She was standing close enough that if he released any of the tension that he was holding in his muscles, their bodies would be pressed together.

He nodded towards the large glass windows, the ones that currently had the blinds up all the way so that they could see out, and if anyone wanted to go up a few steps, they could see in. “Mira. Todos los—”

“Esa es la razón?” She scoffed, almost laughed. “La gente?” She shook her head as she repeated back his words from earlier. “No mientas.”

He swallowed past the growing knot in the back of his throat. Nodding towards the door, he tried to found firm as he said, “Vete.”

“O qué?” she challenged, the smirk on her face showing up involuntarily.

“Isabella…”

“Dime, por favor.” She tilted her head, like she was studying him, like she didn’t already know the answer. “Quiero saber.”

He tilted his head back, chin jutting out as he looked up at the ceiling. He knew that the answer to that was nothing. Nothing was going to happen. He knew that. He knew that she knew it, too. But he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of saying it if he could help it—she was unbearably confident about it enough already. She always was. He didn’t know how that happened, really. How he wound up surrounded by women like that. Todas las mujeres de su pinche vida.

Letting out a deep sigh, he tried one more time. “Vete ahora.” He almost tacked a pleasantry onto the end of it. But he wouldn’t have meant it, and she wouldn’t have cared.

“De verdad quieres eso?”

“Sí,” he replied quickly, but he didn’t make up for the lack of conviction in his voice.

“Eres un mal mentiroso.” He had no idea how she managed to sound so good when she was being so condescending. “Tienes miedo?”

Something in the slight uptick of her voice at the end of the question caused him to shift. He could feel the defeat starting to rake its way across his muscles, his body giving into hers. He always did. No matter when she showed up, no matter where, his resolve never lasted. He hated how smug she was about it all but what he hated more was that he had given her every right to be. He shook his head, mumbling as he turned the phrase over in his mind.

Isabella never ceased to find it amusing, the hesitation, the internal turmoil he seemed to face each time. She figured that they would be past that by now—that he would be past that by now. But the routine held steady. He’d hesitate, he’d give in, he’d let the residual guilt keep him from seeking her out, but when push came to shove, he’d never let it keep him from giving in again when she eventually came back around.

“Si es lo que quieres,” she finally said as she held her hands out, almost like a surrender, almost like a peace offering. However the lift of her lips showing that she was fully aware that it wasn’t really what he wanted, that she banking on him caving and saying just that.

She turned around and started walking towards the door of the office. Her steps were slow, deliberate. Each click of her heels against the floors felt like it was echoing, like it somehow drowned out the music blaring through the rest of the club. Benjamín watched her go, shoulders so tense they were about to crumble, cave in on themselves as he tried to get himself together. He should let her go and he shouldn’t feel conflicted about it.

He opened his mouth to try and say something, but all that came out was a choked stammer. Not a real word, hardly a real syllable. But the sound was enough to get Isabella to stop in her tracks. Her back was still to him, but he could vividly imagine what the smug look on her face must’ve looked like.

Turning around to face him, she raised her eyebrows, smiling as she asked with feigned innocence, “Sí, Mín?”

His jaw twitched, still fighting over what he was going to say. Not that it ended up mattering in the end, anyway. Words fell completely by the wayside as his body reacted with more certainty than his brain ever had. One foot in front of the other, long, fast strides easily closed the distance between him and Isabella.

She didn’t say anything either, didn’t have to. The half a second between his hand cupping the side of her face to pull her closer and his lips crashing against hers said everything that either of them needed to know.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Salt & Sweet

Summary: Salty Matt pt. 2 - Matt’s POV (HEAVILY unedited)

Pt. 1

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @sldghmmr , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @blaquekittycat , @tahiri-veyla

“You gotta be freaking kidding me” The words fell in a mumble of groans out of my lips when the slow, sensual beat started to leave the speaker. The small prayer-like monologue echoed in my mind as I looked up at the starry sky. “For the love of anything that’s sacred, you can’t be serious! Don’t you have anything better to do than to torture me like this, Big Man?! What the fuck did I do?! Is this because I have sinned? Because I fell into the Devil’s pussy trap? Because I jerked off too much when I was in high school? Because I didn’t go to church for the past couple of weeks? Why the fuck is this happening to me?!”

Rage consumed my entire being, the will to both punch my brother and myself in the face was livid! It wasn’t bigger than my will to fuck that little slut - that called herself my brother’s wife - in front of everyone in this backyard.

The will to mark her as mine and rub in my brother’s face how better I am at pleasuring a woman got my jaw clenching with anger and need. Now that I know what her skin feels like against my hands, I need more. So much more…

Cuando te veo

Te veo pasar, ah

Yo pienso en lo' momento'

Que nos supimos amar

Tirame una llamada

No haga' como que no pasa nada, ah

Si sabés muy bien, que

Entre los do' la pasamos al cien…

The melodic and delicate female voice effortlessly sang the words that had turned into my nightmare for the last few months. The translation was already burned into my mind, and I could easily follow the phrases that reminded me of this sour relationship. My sister-in-law had whispered the same words to me while we danced in my hotel room precisely 142 days ago - not that I’m counting by the way.

That night Nick and I came back earlier from the arena and found her inside our hotel room, lying on Nick’s bed. She was wearing a Young Bucks’ t-shirt that she successfully turned into a crop top, adorned with small, random holes in every strategic place of her body and a pair of flare light jeans that made her look like a 90’s hot hip-hop singer.

“A quick surprise” was how she entitled her sudden visit. My brother of course was on cloud nine - as any sane man would - and the first thing I did was excuse myself before I got in the shower for the second time that night, except this one wasn’t for hygiene purposes, if you catch my drift…When I left the foggy bathroom, she was sitting on Nick’s lap and his hand roamed from her ass to thigh, drawing random patterns as they kissed. The last thing I needed was another hard on, so I not so subtly cleared my throat, making her pull back first as Nick was already searching for her lips again.

“I called the reception but apparently they don’t have any more rooms available” Was her twisted form of apology for the soft porn show they were putting on. Nick’s teeth nibbled her soft jaw with a smirk “You don’t have to apologize, angel. Matt’s a big boy, I’m sure he doesn’t care. Right, big bro?”. His eyes encountered mine and I could see the sparkle of malice behind them, the same one he had whenever he planned to do something that our parents strictly told us not to. Everything in me screamed to superkick him as hard as I could until he was spitting more than just one front tooth.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me” Was the only thing I could mumble back before I plopped down on my bed.

Even though I turned my back to them, I could still feel my brother’s gaze on me. I didn’t know what he was up to until they started whispering. She giggled “Are you sure?” and my brother simply chuckled back “Yeah, it’s fine, go for it” before he loudly smacked her ass. A few seconds later, I felt her warm hand on my bare shoulder “Matt, come dance with me”.

Looking behind me, I spotted her face painfully close to mine. “I don’t dance” Was my quick answer back. Before I could turn away from her, her hands caressed my hair “Oh, c’mon! Please? I really want to dance with you, I love this song”.

“Tell Nick you want to dance-” I began but before I could continue, she whispered against the corner of my lips “I want you, not Nick”.

And that’s where my nightmare began. We danced to this very same song, as she whispered the lyrics against my lips and skin.

…Bienvenido dolor, te invito a formar parte

El amor se fue hace rato, no quiso esperarte

Realmente vos y yo somos algo aparte

Esto me pasa por mi corazón fiarte…

Her body was pressed against mine and I could feel her every curve underneath my palms and fingers. My hands had their own will so they naturally did what they always wished to do, they traced her body, pulled her closer to me, cupped her cheeks, roamed through her hair, brushed against her soft bottom lip.

…Daría todo por volver a lo de ante'

Pero no se vuelve al pasado, por más que te cante

Ante' y durante, vuelvo a llamarte…

“Matt?” A quick touch on my shoulder brought me back to the present “You ok?” Kenny’s eyes held their usual care and worry as he searched for any sign of discomfort on my face.

“Yeah, I-” My eyes stopped across the backyard, in the sight of my sister-in-law in Nick’s arms “Just tired”.

“Are you sure?” My best friend asked, once he saw where my eyes were focused on

…Alucino con verte

Con poder volver a tenerte presente

Quizás te hice llorar más de una vez

Quizás te llegué a herir y luego te sané

Me di el lujo de jugar hasta que gané

Pero te veo pasar y me doy cuenta que…

“Yeah, I’ll be fine” I responded without breaking eye contact with her. She whispered something at my brother, without turning her gaze away from me and seconds later a quick smile covered Nick’s lips as he was also now looking at me.

The bastard waved in my direction and I didn’t think twice before giving him the finger. My phone beeped with a text and I read my brother’s name on the screen along with his message.

Nick: I’m still pissed at you for breaking my portraits. And my wife said we should make you pay for the damages, which to me sounds fair because those portraits were expensive af.

My eyes widened at the realization that Nick somehow knew I was the one behind the small temper tantrum, so my fingers quickly worked on pulling the oldest trick any guilty person tried to pull: playing dumb.

Matt: What? Portraits? What the hell are you talking about?!

Nick: God, you’re a terrible liar 😒. Stay after the party, Matt. The three of us have some things we need to talk about 🤫…

[feraura17]

READ, THIS IS SERIOUS AND VERY IMPORTANT AND IT IS URGENT ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️🫵🏼😡💢

Gente, por que vocês acreditam em tudo heim? Eu ainda quero saber como é a cabeça de pessoas que falam línguas diferentes, que mal a Bluy1206 fez pra vocês, principalmente pra quem já saiu por contas das merdas daqui que aconteceu com ela, acusando de uma coisa que ela nem fez, ela só tava tranquila aqui, ela não usou mais o Tumblr por culpa de algum blog que começou essa merda toda, contando mentiras inaceitáveis que fazendo tudo pra derrubar e atrapalhar tudo na vida dela, quero saber como é a consciência desse blog pra fazer isso, pq merece um belo tapa na cara pra respeitar e pensar bem nas consequências e palavras que vai falar, agora tem um monte de gente falando que ela falou mal dela e tal, MAN, QUE PORRA É ESSA????? Ela não fala nada disso, ela só posta coisas que são dela, que sal realmente dela, meme, animação simples, desenhos que ela mesma faz, ela parou de fazer isso, POR CAUSA DESSA DESGRAÇA QUE TA ACONTECENDO COM ELA, MAN, BORA ABRIR OS OLHOS, PÔ, isso é sério, isso tá destruindo com ela, e comigo também, que aconteceu o mesmo, de um blog me acusando a uns tempos atrás e não aceito isso, e não merece ser perdoado pela merda que fez, eu quase não posto mas PORRA nenhuma nessa porra de aplicativo, por causa desse blog que me fez mal pra caralho, eu xingo pq meu deu um ódio grande disso, de ser acusada e apontada injustamente, vou traduzir em inglês pq o mais destaque é esse

Inglês

Guys, why do you believe in everything, huh? I still want to know what the minds of people who speak different languages are like, what harm Bluy1206 did to you, especially to those who have already left because of the shit that happened to her, accusing her of something she didn't even do, she was just Don't worry, she no longer uses Tumblr because of some blog that started all this shit, telling unacceptable lies that did everything to destroy and disrupt everything in her life, I want to know what this blog's conscience is like to do this, because it deserves a nice slap in the face to respect and think carefully about the consequences and words you are going to say, now there are a lot of people saying that she spoke badly about her and so on, MAN, WHAT THE FUCK????? She doesn't say anything like that, she just posts things that are hers, that's really hers, meme, simple animation, drawings that she makes herself, she stopped doing that, BECAUSE OF THIS DISGRACE THAT'S HAPPENING TO HER, MAN, LET'S OPEN UP HER EYES, MAN, this is serious, this is destroying her, and me too, the same thing happened, a blog accusing me a while ago and I don't accept that, and she doesn't deserve to be forgiven for the shit she did, I almost I don't post anything on this fucking app, because of this blog that really hurt me, I curse because I hate it so much, of being accused and singled out unfairly, I'm going to translate it into English because this is the most prominent part

[heyahrenren]

Welcome to Rena’s blog!

ENG: Hey I’m Rena and welcome to my tumblr blog, in here you will find some information about me and my art (if I ever have time to post anything holy shit)

Rena | 19 years old | She/her pronouns | Chilean artist | ENG/SPA 

ABOUT THE BLOG

I’ll be posting my thoughts and drawings of my oc’s in here, I don’t actually like to make fanart but if something catch my attention enough I could make some piece of fanart in the future. I’m also willing to do request of my oc’s or other characters in media as long it doesn’t involve NSFW or Pro-shipping content.

If I ever commit a mistake of some kind you can correct me, I’m learning everyday about different topics and I really like to learn more about the world. Most of the time I’m not really aware if I hurt someone with my words or my actions, so please do not jump into conclussions with me If I fucked up.

DNI

-Proshippers, MAP, Zoophiles.

-Anti-LGBTQ+, Racism, Ableism, Xenophobia, any kind of discrimination really.

-Drama starters / Fight starters

-Romanticize abuse and mental illness

-Share explicit content with minors (The fuck is your problem?)

If you’re nothing of the above you’re fine my guy, have a good time around this page and take care of yourself!

SPA:

Hola soy Rena y bienvenido a mi blog de tumblr, aquí encontrarás información sobre mí y mi arte (si es que alguna vez tengo tiempo para publicar algo puta madre)

Rena | 19 años | Probombres She/her | Artista chilena | ENG/SPA

ACERCA DEL BLOG

Voy a estar publicando mis pensamientos y dibujos de mis oc’s por acá, no me gusta tanto hacer fanart pero si algo capta mi atención puede ser que haga fanart en un futuro. Estoy dispuesta a tomar request de mis oc’s u otros personajes de otros lados mientras no involucre NSFW o material Pro-shipper.

Si alguna vez cometo un error pueden corregirme, todos los días estoy aprendiendo y realmente me gusta aprender más sobre el mundo. La mayoría del tiempo no me doy cuenta si hiero a alguien con mis palabras o mis acciones así que por favor no salten a conclusiones si la he cagado.

DNI

-Proshippers, MAP, Zoofilicos. -Anti-LGBTQ+, Racismo, Capacistismo, Xenofobia, en realidad cualquier tipo de discriminación. -Iniciadores de bardo o peleas. -Romantiza el abuso o transtornos mentales. -Comparten material explícito con menores de edad (¿Cual es su puto problema?) Si no haces nada de lo anteriormente mencionado estás bien mi pana ¡Diviértete en esta página y cuídate mucho!

[kaoarika]

I'm so fucking tired.

The enshittification of the internet is REAL.

This fucking hellsite, I SWEAR.

I already put my thoughts these past few days, but seeing it real-REAL, it's like... what's the point.

I was going to post smth yesterday about "how tiring it is cleaning my drafts" because, to be freaking honest, having this AI thing aside (as the confirmation was almost inminent) but the whole thing with you-know-who and his meltdown is making me think this hellsite doesn't have much future left, and perhaps I should work harder in getting that cleaning done under the assumption I don't see Tumblr is going to be here by the time the northern hemisphere's summer arrives :/" which I WILL still work with, but, who knows what I might decide by then. I am also working under the assumption that I might back up all my blogs in a close date and who knows what I might do next.

It's been a few days (lmao :))) ) and I still haven't decided if moving to pillowfort or, perhaps, cohost, would be better in the future.

But, even having an "opt-out toggle" (I also agree it should be opt-IN), and articles going around are basically saying "yup, all of our userbase MIGHT be already screwed" is like... >:(

I might be kinda lucky that I haven't been feeling all "artsy" to draw stuff and post them, and whenever I have the feel to write a long post, I always don't come to a proper way to explain things because I have been fumbling with my English as of lately (the fact that I'm not feeling too passionate to write fandom posts is also a thing, so). But, at the end of the day, that's just me.

Too dark times.

Again, so many Spanish words instead of English, I swear!

En corto:

Qué pendejada de decisiones que esta bola de cabrones están haciendo. Sí, ya sé, que al final del día "nosotros" somos el producto, pero al mismo tiempo... me irrita a más no poder. Pero que espero de todo esto y más con quienes se junta el cabrón ese de CEO que este sitio infernal tiene (¡Y A QUIÉN IDOLATRA! UGHHH... pero, como dicen, "Dios los hace y Dios los junta", no?). Techbros cabrones de mierda.

Otra serie de pensamientos:

A los que dicen que lo del meltdown del CEO fue sólo una cortina de humo... lmao, lo dudo. AUNQUE, supongo que "techbro que se toma un sabático JUSTO cuando van a anunciar este tipo de cosas" puede que sólo quería evitar toda la atención que tendría de los ojos de su base de usuarios (¡de tmblr y wp!)... porque VAYA CÓMO la regó por estar terminalmente en línea :/c. Una serie de eventos "desafortunados", por así decirlo.

Yo no creo que hay que culpar a los del staff por esto. Sí, ya sé. He estado en este sitio por 15 años y ese es el mame (porque solíamos referirnos por igual a los de "staff" y los mandamases), pero, sinceramente siempre hay que culpar a los que están al alto mando, los mandamases, porque ellos SON los que mandan y dan el sí de los cambios y otras cosas que pueden igual valer sus cabezas en el culo. TODOS aquí sabemos que Tumblr ha estado sangrando dinero desde el 2013, es por eso que el sitio ha tenido CUATRO dueños corporativos en UNA DÉCADA nada más, si el CEO actual piensa que tomando una decisión de FOMO con una "novedad de capitalismo tardío" puede recuperar el dinero, CLARO que puedo creerlo. Pero por algo es uno de tantos techbros que andan entrando a sus 40s y se creen la cochinada más grande del mundo porque a sus 20s-30s hicieron algunas cosas "buenas" que todo el mundo empezó a usar o implementar (firma, una diseñadora que si bien no puede programar, cuando empecé a buscar empleo alrededor de cuando me gradué en 2014/15 ya pedían que si uno sabía de wp)... Léase porque la serie de "Silicon Valley" es más un cuento de cautela (y horror) que una comedia.

Como dije en el otro post que hice este fin de semana, si o si no iba a pasar lo de MJ, de todas maneras, con el temperamento del CEO, capaz y decide abandonar el barco (aka este sitio infernal) y cerrarlo, porque NO HAY nadie quien quiera comprarlo. Hemos estado aquí "en soporte" desde que Verizon lo vendió y no es nada lindo leer reportes de rumores internos que la corporativa (que nos tiene "cautivos") no tiene ni una PUTA idea de qué hacer con esta plataforma y más si hemos visto como todas las redes sociales grandes están adoptando formatos tipo tiktok o insta.

Yo no sé ni cómo sentirme. Tengo una serie de emociones mixtas que HUBIERA querido que se disiparan, pero apenas ha pasado una semana y estoy muy indecisa sobre qué hacer a futuro AQUÍ. Casi casi, estoy pensando en cerrar casa limpiando todos mis drafts, hacer respaldo de mis blogs (si uso tumbr utils, con el método de python, eso por lo menos sería respaldar los últimos 5 años y cacho, pero no sé si con el rollo del cambio de API (?) me vaya bien) y QUIZÁS borrar posts (digo todo esto a bien sabiendas que eso ni me lo van a respetar los LLMs) . Pero me quedo porque no sé que voy a hacer con la gente con la que AÚN quiero mantener contacto de este sitio. Ya perdí a varios a través de los años porque han decidido partir a otras plataformas o quizás desaparecer completamente del internet... y yo la verdad he querido minimizar mi presencia en línea más ahora que hace años. ¿Cómo voy a perder lazos si todos estamos en TANTOS sitios? Ya no quiero subscribirme a TANTOS sitios, y así, y así.

Casi he estado mitad de mi vida aquí (digo casi, pero tenía 18 años recién cumplidos cuando empecé por acá), y moverme a otros es considerar mis estúpidos hábitos y así, y más porque no uso Tumblr (ni twt, ni discord) en móvil. Y el hecho de "migrar" si sigo usando este (porque, a la larga si todo está """"bien"""" me voy a terminar quedando), sólo me pone a pensar qué rayos voy a planificar mis horarios y demás.

[burnmyh4nd]

Como é ser um jovem pesquisando violência contra criança e adolescente?

Eu fiz várias playlists com o nome "colcha de retalhos" ou derivados, q identificavam a monografia Essa monografia tá rolando desde 2019, quando comecei a pesquisar intencionalmente "violência" "casa" "família" e "autoetnografia" E pesquisar aqui é num sentido amplo, tipo pescar nas conversas, nas músicas, nos filmes, séries, novelas, desenhos, na internet, entre textos e livros e blogs e vídeos e podcasts e toda hora vivendo e lembrando e repensando e revivendo e às vezes querendo morrer Sinceramente, é uma merda, é irritante demais Olha vocês classe adultos/as brancas/os cishetero são horríveis, real, vocês fodem com a gente parem com isso

E escrevendo que é foda tambwém Mas eu lembro de já tá bem ligado quando lançou Maria da Vila Matilde da Elza Soares, em 2015, q eu ouvia pouco pq eu tinha crise de ansiedade às vezes mas teve vezes q eu ouvi com todo mundo no carro e eu cantei mt na cabeça e foi foda obrigado Elza Quando a gente assistiu junto Liberdade Liberdade, a novela das 11 da Globo de ANO, eu amava a relação do pai e da filha Apesar de me irritar com ele com frequência Daí teve um episódio que ele se irritou com ela porque ela estava "desobedecendo" ele meteu a mão na cara dela E aí meu pai já tinha saído de perto, minha mãe depois falou que ela tava merecendo e eu falei que achava um absurdo E=======================ntrre 2012 e 2015-16 eu pensava em cenas como essa toda noite antes de cOns3guir dormir

parece que as experiências audiovisuais podem ser muito boas ou muito ruins dependendo da sua chave de leitura tipo uma pessoa pode chorar com um barulho ou surtar com uma série outra pode adorar o barulho e/ou a série E tem gente que pode brigar por causa de um barulho e gente que pode fazer o barulho e depois parar e gente gritar/bater/surtar e ninguém falar nada e gente assim e gente assado e Gente e gente e gentes e Gentes Gente que amo gente que odeio e vice-versa Gente da agenda de contatos Gente de sites do Estado gente da agenda de contatos gente de sites do Estado

a relação "cripto"visual pra mim é cabulosa sempre gostei desde que me lembro pelo menos padrões visuais-textuais tope demais tipo ~hacking social (amador) querendo se profissionalizar rsrs

its hard to keep looking to find it some sense some piece of reality bc this is not this is a dream when i'm surfing through the day i'm leaving my body literally leaving it cause i cann't stand it i cant stand to talk and to literally stand today i didn't gave my seat to an old woman bc i thought i will fall if i stand so i pretended to be asleep which i basically was yay this is a fucking dream i love it it's like i'm walking with my hands i'm diving diving through this shit i'm diving please listen i'm crying out and i'm (not) dieing (i'm not sure how to write it ::))

diving diving this i'm diving diving here we're diving trough this shit it's beautiful out here It's beauty what i see Thanks u all to be here

to be sincere

i'm coding it so that some people get it some don't :> ]]

i'll really draw it in the sand u know in the way i know how

u know how

[jackspaceblue]

Hola..

No he subido nada pero a la vez checo o me meto en la app y pues..

Veo que algunos seguidores me siguen pero cuando entró en su perfiles me aparecen

UN CHINGO DE PORNO

Wtf osea ya no se si reír o llorar y a la vez "que carajo " osea público algunos dibujos a veces ya que no he publicado nada

No se si ellos o ellas les interesa mis dibujos o solo quieren molestarme o para joderme ( ͡°Ĺ̯ ͡° )

No dibujo 🔞 , aquí lo que verán son dibujos que son algo random o referencia.

He bloqueado gente o seguidores que tienen porno en su perfil no se si esta App me borre mi cuenta o no lo se..

Traducción al inglés.

I haven't uploaded anything but at the same time I check or go into the app and well..

I see that some followers follow me but when they entered their profiles they appear to me

A LOT OF PORN

Wtf I mean I don't know whether to laugh or cry and at the same time "what the hell" I mean public some drawings sometimes since I haven't published anything

I don't know if they are interested in my drawings or they just want to annoy me or to fuck me

I don't draw 🔞, here what you will see are drawings that are something random or reference.

I have blocked people or followers who have porn on their profile, I don't know if this App will delete my account or I don't know...

[bellflower-goat]

man. :]

I am. I may fucking cry. I was looking tru some old stuff to try n find my paintbrushes n some other stuff I was gonna need for the proyect n. This year was a bitch and it made me forget how much I loved (and still do!) to do this. Like man! I really like making my damn figurines outta clay cause they express stuff I don't know how to draw! They are so fun to make and I just gave up on them entirely cause. So many things happened this year and it really killed my motivation. The notes stuff was just the last nail in the coffin. I can't believe I'm still here. That's wonderful, really! Right now, as I was prepping some stuff for the proyect it reminded me of why I made art. And I found it lovely, really. La duda me agarro y me hizo creer q lo q hacia en serio no valía nada, que era una perdida de tiempo y se veía horrible y pos ahora veo que en serio no era así! Getting my motivation to do shit like this again feels so nice, and man. just. I feel very happy

[kasiobite03]

R: ven bobby ven, bobby ven bobby ven bobby, quien es el mas bonito?

R: yo creo que bobby se puede caer y puede morir. nooooo

R: quieres dinamita?? J: NOOOO NOOO NONONO. R: siii siii siii bobby siiii J: NOOOOO

R: el trabaja hasta tarde para que ella no le falta nada, el sonido de amor ella le espere enamorada

R: *risa J: ohhhh it looks so good! He drew you! R: oh.. yeah yes bobby es como yo. bobby miran el mio bobby miran el mio

R: Pero pusieron la canción tiririri tererere no te gusta la canción? aii te pone triste por que bolby? por que? a la verga chingatu ya encontramos los traumas del bobby

R: *Risa

R: bobby, pero la torre va a ser cuadrada? sabes que, bobby yo confió en ti bobby, yo confió en ti. R: El esta ahí contando tranquilo, deje- . . . *risa

J: yayyy R: eso brad eso brad eso brad se mira bien bonito miralo

R: what the fuck? let see J: awwww R: una como la primera vez que te vi apa. aww que bonito aii bobby. aii bobby muchas gracias mijito no hace falta

j: ya se fue critiquanlo R: QUEE?? J: im sorry whoa what what! R: what did you say ?! J: what did i say? i was just reading the- what does it-? what is going on-? uh ok i mean nothing! R: Nononono J: we're drawing. we're drawing we're drawing oh can't hear you we're drawing R: JAIDEN? what did you say?

R: tengo unas pinches ganas de urinar mijo pero ya no me aguanto! ya vengo. "tas todo mion siempre hola chat" R: *risa lo lea lo lea lo lea AHAHAH bobby! bobby no mames! ok mijo ya vengo ya vengo

M: agarre la rienda y nos llevamos uno. hijodetu-corre flippa corre! la chota!

R: Adios hijo adios!! BOBBY!! J: I'll never forget you!! i love you bobby!

bobby se queda por siempre en nuestros corazones

[pjmovedblogs]

I call bullshit that was GGGs Fight and we all know it!!

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

[thesolotomyhan]

narcos méxico: jealousy hc

my first request, kinda nervous but i hope i delivered anon 💕

Warnings: NSFW!

Tags: @fandomnerd16​ , @visintaes​ , @sheeshgivemeabreak​

ok wow is this bitch long, i didnt realize that,  i got carried away lmao,,,  just a friendly heads up :))) and also, I went with them being your ex in both scenarios!

Miguel:

miguel angel would be the obsessive ex, holy shit, he would have eyes everywhere on you,,,

he would get to know your schedule at a day to day basis-

like he would have azul out here keeping him updated about your whereabouts, like what you’ve been doing, who you’ve been seen talking to, weekly, like clockwork,,

but i can lowkey see azul not telling miguel a single fucking hint that you may have been seen talking to some guy-

like azul just wants to have miguel focus on the business in front of them not worrying about you because miguel was the one to drive you out of the relationship,, its his own fault for letting you go, now its on him to gain you back on his own,

wow ok, so i can see this happening when miguel throws a fancy gathering with all those governments and high powered people,, where he would invite you to come celebrate his success in who knows what,,, but he just needs to make sure you come,, he wants to try and rekindle what you had, porque te extraña-

he’ll be nervous like that time before his birthday party in s2 where he was pacing back and forth, anxious to know if pacho was going to show up, yeah that would be him right now,,, asking azul every minute if he for sure knows if youre going to show up otherwise why even throw the party if youre not coming-

i cant- miguel probably wouldnt even go down where the party is,

he’s holing himself up somewhere until azul comes and tells him that you finally showed up-

this man would be so desperate to see you that he doesnt even let azul finish his sentence before he’s already bolting down to look for you,

and as soon as he sees you walking in he would act like all cool all of a sudden, shaking hands with people along the way, smile shining brighter than ever, but damn does that smile not last long once he glances back to you where he sees that you brought a date-

Im dying just imagining the dark look he would have when he sees your date lean in to kiss your cheek, leading you to sit down-

just the way he’ll watch you like a hawk throughout the night, clenching his jaw with the biggest scowl on his face

gripping his drink so hard it looks like he’ll break it any second as he curses under his breath, when he sees your date kiss your hand from across the table-

THE CHALLENGING GAZE HE’LL GIVE YOU WHEN YOU MAKE EYECONTACT HAS ME WEAK-

shaking his head as he starts to get up when you look away,,, like he’s officially done sitting around all night because your his mujer y de nadie mas

just the way he’ll walk up to your table so confidently, acting like this dude doesnt even exist and ask for you to accompany him for an issue he needs your input with,

not sparing one glance to your date before he has his hand wrapped around your arm, dragging you to this empty hallway-

i- the way he’ll trap you against the wall when you protest against his hold as he grabs your jaw tightly so he can look at you directly, both of your faces nearly touching-

“basta, ya,, que traes con ese cabron eh, mija?”

and you’re not about to take his shit just because he got jealous the very second he saw you with someone else after he was the one to push you away-

“Que chingados te importa miguel, tu fuiste el que ya no quiso nada conmigo”

“es que no entiendes, verdad?, me arde verte con otro cabron”-

i-the way he cant help but cut you off when he sees you open your mouth again, ready to shoot another comment at him, just to roughly kiss you, shutting you up,,-

its one of those kisses that have you both almost suffocating each other,, all the built up anger mixing in with both of your love for one another that your both too stubborn to admit,,

fuck, ok the way you dont feel his hand sneak in between your thighs until he unexpectedly already has one of his fingers inside of you-

your muffled whine swallowed by his desperate kisses to keep you quiet as you grip his arm to keep you somewhat stable on your legs-

“Ese pendejo no te puede hacer sentir bien como yo puedo mija.”

just, the way your hips involuntarily begin to move against his hand, biting your lip so hard your almost drawing blood from them as he forces you to keep looking at him, pumping his fingers into you repeatedly, adding his thumb to play with your stimulated clit-

“Imagínate, si ese cabron te ve así, de como nunca serás de el”

wow,ok,  he wont stop until he has your knees buckling, pulling him into you to silence your moans when he makes you cum, i-

him kissing your forehead, telling you he’s taking you home to remind you who you belong to as he leads your wobbling form out, MAKING SURE TO GIVE YOUR DATE A SMUG ASS SMILE WHEN HE LEAVES WITH YOU- lmao i cant

god, him making you look into the mirror as he fucks you as he roams his hands all over your body, telling you that you’ll always belong to him, as your hands grip his hair- ok

celoso miguel would have you on the verge of tears as he pounds you into the bed-

just making you into a blubbering mess, not giving you a single chance to breathe before he’s already thrusting deeply into you again,,

reminding you again and again that no one other than him can have you like this-

making you scream who you belong to all fucking night until he knows you’ll be sore everywhere in the morning- i, wow

Amado:

alright, so i can see amado being the ex that would act like you were just a fun pastime for him when in reality he’s depressed porque te perdio-

I’m imagining this happening very shortly after you two are broken up, because ustedes todavía son pajaritos enamorados

Amado’s stupid ass probably just said something like “your safety is the most important thing to me, that’s why I’m breaking up with you, to keep you safe” type of beat-

but i just know he would be the mf to be like, i need to forget about the love of my life by fucking with other viejas, just trying his best to forget everything about you,,

but you would probably catch wind of this some way,,, and that he’s out here being a mujeriego and acting like nothing ever happened between you two was real so your just like ‘alright, if that’s how its going to be, two can play at this game’-

im H o l l e r in g, i can imagine this scenario where he would take some vieja to a club, maybe a club he used to go with you all the time-the audacity-

he would be out here smiling, buying drinks left and right, all laid back, like a cocky mf,,, hiding his insecurities because he’s egoistic like that, trying but failing to “enjoy” his date because its just not you

thats when just out of curiosity, he would look around the club, entertaining himself,, scanning everyone there and would automatically fucking spot you within seconds,,, except youre not alone :)) your dancing with some guy,-

and that one simple thing, that youre dancing with someone else, someone that’s not him, touching you like that, has him pissed,

like all of a sudden his only focus would be all on you,, as he’s clenching his jaw and bouncing his leg impatiently,, watching you and your date dance,, as he curses under his breath at the scene unfolding before him-

can you imagine tho, if you both lock eyes- con una mirada he’s telling you “are you fucking serious?”

wow, the way he’ll bring his clenched fist to his lips, wanting nothing more than to knock the shit out of the bum of your date, as he stares daggers into him,,-

he would wait until he can corner you alone tho,  not wanting to start any drama-

he would get up so fucking quick when he sees you start to walk over to the bar, esta desesperado el cabron,, not wasting time to grab your arm and drag you somewhere, away from everyones eyes-

youre already angrily trying to pull away from his hold before he grasps both of your arms and holds them in between your bodies, stopping you from pulling away as he pulls your body into his,,

both of your fiery gazes looking into each other-

“Me quieres decir quién es ese hijo de la chingada para ir a matarlo ahorita?”

WOw, the way you test him with a simple look, not answering his question because you know exactly what buttons to push to get him even more irritated than he already is-

THE SEXUAL TENSION-

just, the way the both of you hold your stares, challenging the other to move first, with the only noise being the loud thumping of the music in the background-

he’ll pull your body even more closer to his, your lips almost, almost touching-

“no seas asi, mi reina, por favor,  déjame enseñarte lo que él no puede darte” im not ok omg

he literally feels his heart soar when he sees you slowly nod your head-

ugh, just,, the bottled up emotions would pour out as soon as he gets you home-

it has you both tearing each others clothes off, with those messy kisses where neither of you want to pull back from, as he carries you and drops you on the bed,,

wow, the way he would groan, when he sees you naked on his bed,throbbing for you because he finally has you where you belong,,

god, is this man going to have you manhandle you all night until your begging him to stop-

just, pushing your body down and holding you there when your trying to squirm away from him, orgasm after orgasm,,,

chuckling down at you, telling you your going to take it-

like , its going to be the type of sex that has you almost ripping the whole fucking bedframe off from the overstimulation he’s giving you,

wont stop making you say that your his, forcing you to never look away from him, when he tells you i love you, over and over again-

or the way he’ll pull your head back onto the pillow when you try to bite down on his shoulder when he hits that one spot inside of you repeatedly, just, scolding you that he doesnt want you to hold back on your moans-

the CHOKING KINK, you already know it was coming,, it makes him rock hard when he wraps his hand around your throat while he’s making you scream his name,,,

the bruising grip he’ll have on your hip as he feels your nails leave streaks of red on his back as he’s buried so deep into you-

“Dime, que ese hijo de su rechingada madre nunca compara conmigo, mi amor”

rubbing your pulsating clit just to see the way you roll your eyes back, and dig your nails into his bicep- whispering the most dirtiest things into your ear-

fuck, ok but the way you both look down where you connect, moaning into each other as you watch as his cock disappear inside of you- im not sorry

just- turning you into a shaking and whimpering mess until all you can say and remember is his name by the time he’s done with you-

[dindjarindiaries]

A Bullet For You

summary: When your office comes under fire by Escobar’s men, Javier and his men come to the rescue, where he promptly offers you his bulletproof vest to keep you safe.

note: translations included at the bottom

pairing: javier peña x colombianf!reader

warnings: violence, blood, death, shooting, smoking, angst, fluff

rating: R

word count: 2.723k

masterlist

“Te amo muchísimo, cariño.”

Those were the last words you’d said to Javier before this very moment, where you now find yourself cowering in the corner of your office with your coworkers—pinned to the spot by the guns of Escobar’s allies.

You’ve never expected to see such action at your accounting job in Medellín. You’ve lived in Colombia your whole life, watching the drug crisis unfold before your very eyes. Nevertheless, you’ve always avoided it, simply desiring to live your day-to-day life with a job that, honestly, could be more boring—just so you could play it safe.

That was, until Javier Peña walked into your life. Or, rather, stumbled.

You’d been hoping for a hookup that night at the bar, needing some kind of change in your everyday life. When you saw the man who practically glowed even under the shitty lighting of the bar, you instantly knew who you’d wanted to go for—but you felt something you weren’t supposed to. After the first few drinks, casual conversation, and sharing the heated dance floor together, you realized you were in deeper than you’d first bargained for. Javier, on the other hand, was completely gone by the time you wanted to head out with him, in no good shape to do anything other than put one foot in front of the other.

So, you’d helped him get back to your apartment, providing him with a glass of water and your bed before he passed out for the night. You took the couch, and by the time he was wandering into the kitchen the next morning with a furrowed brow, you’d already prepared something for him to eat. According to him, that’s when he knew he was in love with you—and you’d told him that you had the same realization around the same exact time.

Now, it’s been a few months, and you’ve at least gotten to the point where you don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Javier told you all about his job with the DEA and his life growing up in the States, and you were impressed that a gringo could have such skill with Colombian culture and the language. You’d taught yourself English by watching American television growing up, and Javier helped you fill in the gaps. Though he was very solid at Spanish, you still helped him whenever he needed it, and it’s become just another way in which you’ve bonded over these past few months. If you’ve noticed anything about Javier, though, it’s his protectiveness. Even in the first few weeks of your relationship, he was hesitant about letting you go out on your own—despite the fact you’d been doing so ever since you could remember. He was relieved to hear that you had such a normal job, one that wouldn’t easily be infiltrated by the chaos he witnesses on a daily basis.

Yet, here you are, watching Escobar’s allies violently interrogate one of your coworkers—who you’ve now discovered has been doing some work for Escobar—while you and the rest watch on with horrified eyes.

“¡Puta rata!” one of them shouts, giving your coworker another punch across the face. “¡Has estado hablando con la policía!” He chuckles darkly, placing the barrel of his gun against your coworker’s temple and giving it a nudge. “¿Pensaste que podrías safarte de nosotros tan fácilmente?” The man clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he gives your coworker a hard hit with the barrel of the gun. “¿Qué les dijiste?”

Your coworker looks on with a terrified gaze. “¡No dije nada!” they insist, their voice cracking in their panicked emotion. “¡Por favor, créeme!”

The same man from before gives his head another shake. “Es demasiado tarde, rata.” With that, he lifts his gun and pulls the trigger, and you along with your coworkers give a terrified shout as you try to look away from the gory sight. You close your eyes and keep your face tucked away, feeling your heart race a mile a minute as your mind only starts to think of Javier.

“Voy a regresar a las cinco esta noche,” Javier had said to you this morning, his hands resting so gently yet so securely on your hips as you stood just in front of your apartment door.

“¿Me lo prometes?” you’d remarked, your voice barely above a hushed whisper as your fingertips trailed down his cheek.

Javier had given you one of his infamous smiles, making you drown in his dark gaze of deep affection. You knew he was going to stay true to this one—because the recently late hours and time spent away from you had been taking even more of a toll on him than it had on yourself. “Tienes mi palabra,” he’d assured you, placing his soft lips against yours. The touch had left you a melted puddle of pure love on the apartment floor, leaving you to grip onto his neck for fear of your knees giving out beneath you. When he pulled away, Javier had left another tender kiss on your forehead, reestablishing his eye contact with you. “Hasta pronto, mi amor. Cuídate.” He took your hands from around his neck, holding them in his as he left a kiss on your knuckles. “Te amo mucho.”

“Te amo muchísimo, cariño.” Your lips couldn’t stop smiling despite the fact you were watching him walk through the door, unsure of what would befall him that day but knowing you’d see him sooner than you were getting used to.

And now, you’re not so sure you’ll get to see the end of Javier’s promise—but at least, you try to comfort yourself, it’s not his fault. The thought of your lover keeps you relatively calm until Escobar’s men cock their guns at you and your coworkers, giving you their full attention. The man who’d shot your other coworker steps forward, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Entonces, ¿quién sabe qué le dijo la rata a la policía?”

You and your coworkers begin looking at each other nervously. No one even knew that man’s been working for Escobar, and since none of you have any information for these men, that means you’re going to die at their hands.

Meanwhile, at the embassy, Javier’s had a pit growing in his stomach all day for no good reason. It’s only just past noon and he’s already almost gone through an entire pack of cigarettes. When Javier lights his last one, Steve’s whistling pulls him out of his funk, drawing his attention to see a raised brow looking back at him.

“What’s up, Peña?” Steve asks almost cautiously.

“What do you mean?” Javier remarks, taking his first puff with agitation.

“I’ve lost track of your cig count for the day,” Steve says, leaning forward on his desk in a questioning manner. “So, you’re stressed over some shit. What is it? Is it your girlfriend?”

“God, I hope not,” Javier mutters, temporarily setting the cigarette onto his ash tray. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, Murphy. I’m just…” Javier trails off, shaking his head as he tries to justify his odd feeling.

“… paranoid?” Steve tries to finish. “I know that sometimes I can start thinkin’ about Connie and get all worked up for no good reason.”

Javier shrugs, picking up the cigarette again at the thought of you being in danger. “I just gotta be home by five,” Javier mutters, tossing a file from his desk onto the large pile behind him. “I’m probably just worried I won’t make it on time.”

Steve’s about to say more, no doubt asking why Javier had to hold such a tight schedule, but gets cut off by the ringing of his phone. He raises a curious eyebrow at Javier before picking it up, his eyes widening the more the voice on the other end speaks. The pit in Javier’s stomach begins to grow, to the point where he has to put his cigarette down again in fear of making himself sick. Steve writes down an address and gives a reassurance, hanging up and rising from his chair. Javier stands up with him.

“What’s goin’ on?” Javier asks, trying not to make his nerves so obvious.

“Hostage crisis, with some of Escobar’s men,” Steve informs him. “Guess the police has had contact with an accountant who was working for Escobar and was giving them information—and Escobar found out about it.”

At the naming of the profession, Javier’s blood practically turns to ice, and he takes an urgent step towards Steve as his brow furrows. “Accountant? At a company?” When Steve gives a nod, Javier’s heart nearly stops. “What’s the address?” Steve offers the piece of paper, and Javier takes it in his shaking hands to see exactly what he feared: your workplace. “Shit. Fuck!”

Steve’s slightly surprised by Javier’s outburst, watching as he lunges for his gun and bulletproof vest with intense urgency. “Javi, what the hell—?”

“That’s her office,” Javier explains in a quick breath, already starting to head out of the office. “We gotta go!”

Upon hearing that, Steve’s soon going at the same speed as Javier. His heart’s practically in his throat the entire way there, his mind only able to go back to the same memory as yours—the morning that could be your last one together.

Back in the office, you’re thankfully at the end of the line, watching as your coworkers endure violent tactics in an effort to get them to reveal something—anything. You try to think of bullshit excuses in your mind, wondering if you can offer them something that’ll keep them from killing all of you. But you’re not that quick on your feet, and you suddenly wish more than ever that you had the quick thinking of Javier to assist you.

“Mentirosos, todos ustedes,” the main man scoffs after he’s given another one of your coworkers a hit of their gun to their head. “Alguien tuvo que haber oído algo de lo que el puto soplón dijo.”

“¡No sabemos nada!” someone speaks up, their voice full of nothing but fear as they look pleadingly up at the man in front of them. “Si supiéramos, ya te hubiéramos dicho todo.”

“Habla por ti mismo,” you scoff, your eyes widening as you realize you’ve said the thought aloud.

All eyes turn to you, and the man’s soon making his way over. “¿¡Qué dijiste!?” he questions, his voice hauntingly dark. “No te escuche bien.”

Instead of freezing up like the others, you think of Javier again, and your blood boils. These are the men who would shoot at him in a heartbeat, with the intention of taking him out. These are the men who keep him away from you each day. These are the men who make his life a living hell and take such a heavy toll on him that some nights, he just has to cry to you. So, rather than taking back your words and offering some bullshit, you tell them the truth. “Come mierda,” you mutter, spitting on his shoe.

The man’s face darkens immensely, but before he’s able to do anything to you, there’s the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway stairs—a practical stampede of them. Every head turns to the door, and you barely have time to see it fly open before the bullets start flying. You gasp and keep yourself ducked down, trying to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Your arms remain over your head as you kneel on the ground, shaking in your sudden horror. Despite the threat of your own safety, you can’t stop thinking about Javier—until you feel a familiar touch on your arms. When you lift your head, you see him kneeling there in front of you, and the pure sight of him practically brings you to tears.

“Mi amor,” Javier breathes, barely audible over the shooting as he holds your face in his hands and inspects you for injuries. “I thought that… that…” Javier can’t finish the thought. Instead, he reaches to take off the bulletproof vest he’s wearing, beginning to put it around you. “Wear this. You’ll need it while I get you out of here.” He straps it on you as quickly as he can, but you’re unsettled by the idea of it.

“No, Javi,” you insist, grimacing with disapproval as he finishes securing it. “It’s yours. You need—.”

“I’ll be fine,” Javier insists, still having to raise his voice above the gunfire. “But we have to get you out of here, now!”

You give him a nod, letting you wrap both your arms around one of his as he holds his gun securely in his free hand. Javier begins to guide you back to where he’d came from, looking around whenever he can for any potential threat. You’re still shaking as you grip onto his arm for dear life, still unable to believe that you’re back in the security of his presence. Javier notices this, and he looks back for a moment to calm you with his dark eyes.

“Relájate, mi amor,” he assures you softly. “Voy a sacarte de aquí sana y salva.”

You offer him a nod, but soon find yourself gasping when a bullet whizzes by your ear. Javier turns around to shoot the man who’d almost gotten you, and you see him fall to the floor in pain immediately. Javier continues to move forward quickly, taking you with him as you refuse to loosen your grip on his arm. When you reach the staircase, you can barely descend them with the shakiness in your legs, but thankfully Javier keeps you propped up as you’re soon exiting the building and entering the security of the blockade that surrounds the perimeter. Javier tries to get you to sit on the hood of his car, but all you can do is wrap your arms around him tightly, hiding your face in his shoulder. He holds you back, running his hand through your hair to calm you.

“I’m so glad you’re alright, hermosa,” Javier mumbles in your ear. “When Steve showed me that address, I thought I’d never get to hold you again.”

You hold him tighter, pressing your cheek against the fabric of his shirt. “Solo podía pensar en tú, Javi.” You sigh shakily, feeling Javier run another hand down your head at the sound of it. “I wanted to say that I loved you a thousand more times.”

Javier’s smile is nearly audible, but he continues with an interrogation of your wellbeing. “Did they hurt you?”

You shake your head, still keeping it against his shoulder. “They were about to.” When Javier tenses, you let out a quick chuckle and continue. “When they asked us for information, I may or may not have told them that I wouldn’t have told them even if I knew—and then told them come mierda.”

Javier lets out a low laugh at your words. “Ay, mi amor, eres muy fuerte. Estoy orgulloso de ti.”

You chuckle once again and then pull yourself away from him, holding onto his shoulders as you’re suddenly very aware of the bulletproof vest you’re still wearing. “You walked through a shootout without a vest for me.” You bite your lip to keep your emotions tucked away as Javier gives you a small smile and a nod. “How?”

Javier tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “I would take a bullet for you any day, mi amor.” He says the words without hesitation and with such certainty that you can practically feel the truthfulness in his core—and as much as you love it, you always feel terrified by it. Javier sees this, and he cups your cheek in his hand before he goes on. “But hopefully I won’t have to.”

You finally give him a smile at that, leaning up to brush your nose against his. “Te amo más que a mi propia vida, cariño.”

Javier leaves a short yet very sweet kiss on your lips, pulling away to leave an additional one on the tip of your nose. “Te amo muchísimo, mi amor.”

translations:

Te amo muchísimo, cariño. = I love you so very much, sweetheart.

¡Puta rata! = Fucking rat!

¡Has estado hablando con la policía! = He’s been talking with the police

¿Pensaste que podrías safarte de nosotros tan fácilmente? = Did you think that you could get away from us so easily?

¿Qué les dijiste? = What did you tell them?

¡No dije nada! = I didn’t say anything!

¡Por favor, créeme! = Please, believe me!

Es demasiado tarde, rata. = It’s too late, rat.

Voy a regresar a las cinco esta noche = I’m going to come back at five tonight

¿Me lo prometes? = Promise me?

Tienes mi palabra = You have my word

Hasta pronto, mi amor. Cuídate. = I’ll see you soon, my love. Be careful.

Te amo mucho = I love you so much

Entonces, ¿quién sabe qué le dijo la rata a la policía? = So, who knows what the rat told the police?

Mentirosos, todos ustedes = Liars, all of you

Alguien tuvo que haber oído algo de lo que el puto soplón dijo = Some had to have heard what the fucking snitch said

¡No sabemos nada! = We don’t know anything!

Si supiéramos, ya te hubiéramos dicho todo = If we knew, we would have told you everything already

Habla por ti mismo = Speak for yourself

¿¡Qué dijiste!? = What did you say!?

No te escuche bien = I didn’t hear you well

Come mierda = Eat shit

Relájate, mi amor = Relax, my love

Voy a sacarte de aquí sana y salva = I’m going to get you out of here safe and sound

Solo podía pensar en tú, Javi = I was only able to think of you, Javi

Ay, mi amor, eres muy fuerte. Estoy orgulloso de ti = Oh, my love, you’re so strong. I’m proud of you.

Te amo más que a mi propia vida, cariño = I love you more than my own life, sweetheart

Te amo muchísimo, mi amor = I love you so very much, my love

[voidselfshipp]

Gentle Heart

Cw: cursing, food ment, anxiety ment.

Ask to tag.

Ok to rb.

Summary: homelander goes for comfort to a friend, who just so happends to have a crush on him, and even if shes angry with him, her gentle heart always gives him a place to crash, he just needs to Open up.

A/n: song "de música ligera" soda estereo ,english lyrics here

The wind blows on the tall buildings,its cold and dark yet the light of the screen ilumimates the outline of her face.

The sudden clash of the roof doesnt phase her,as she keeps drawing.

Shes about to Grab the can of soda when he takes it.

-- I thought you said you couldnt drink soda because of your anxiety-- homelander sat besides her-- lazaro

--fuck off homelander-- she tried to snatch it back, yet he takes it out of her reach.

--is it lazaro? RiotGirl? Jerico?

--the three of them now give it to me!

-- rumor has it you have a crush on me

-- rumor hasnt got it

He chuckles-- I like when you get this mad, the scary riotgirl,quite my opposite dont you think?

Lazaro shoves her drawing tablet on her bag, launching herself at homelander.

The soda falls and spills the remainings, shes ontop of him, hands holding his wrists down.

--my my, look at you, I can actually see your face now

The hoodie falls, and the city lights that bleed through the buildings shine on her.

-- such pretty eyes

Lazaro grunts standing up-- you owe me a soda, and food to compensate

Homelander stands up, as she grabs her bag--of course of course-- he teased offering his hand.

--nice try sweetheart but im fine actually-- her feet float up in the air, he raises his hands.

--Suit yourself-- he said.

A few block down the street they went,riotgirl covers her face as soon as the fans recognize him.

--ah Yes can you give me a number four, yep, that sauce right there and uh...yep soda,-- he ordered winking at his companion.

She rolls her eyes, of course the house left it free of charge, and both fly away from the scene.

Her teeth sink in the food, eating like a hungry animal.

--ive heard the downside of that metabolism of yours is that you have to be constantly eating

--my energy burns out twice as quick,you just have everything in place apparently-- snarked lazaro.

He sighed scooting closer-- look...can I crash at your place tonight?

She looks at him with a brow raised, snark in her face-- you what?

He sighed-- fine you want me to Open up then I will, voughts been very pissy lately, youre the only one who treats me the same

She sighed finishing her sandwich-- fine, come on

He smiled and helped her stand up.

The lights flickered,as it illuminated the place.

--ive heard about the last match, Argentina lost right?-- he said looking at the Argentine flag hanging from the Window.

--yeah dont remind me-- she takes off her hoodie and vest, the tanktop with her emblem is all thats left aside from her leather pants.

--Make yourself at home-- she declared opening some of the Windows, leaning on them.

He lays down on the sofa-- any chance im sharing a bed with you?

--in your dreams...

He nodded-- fair enough

His hands rest on his abdomen breathing calmly, looking around the room

Theres silence, neither of them speak, he quietly mutters to himself.

Suddenly music plays, lazaro rocks back and fort in her place, singing the song.

-- argentine rock?-- he asked.

--hmm...feels like home-- she said.

Hes in silence, hearing her sing.

-- ||Ella durmió al calor de las masas

Y yo desperté queriendo soñarla

Algún tiempo atrás pensé en escribirle

Que nunca sorteé las trampas del amor

De aquel amor

De música ligera

Nada nos libra

Nada más queda|| -- she sang softly.

Homelander smiled, how did he get this lucky? Lazaro was the cutest most kind person he knew.

She always let him in her house, crash at any time.

He lost the keys, yet here she was opening her door for him.

-- ||No le enviaré cenizas de rosas

Ni pienso evitar un roce secreto

De aquel amor

De música ligera

Nada nos libra

Nada más queda

De aquel amor

De música ligera

Nada nos libra

Nada más queda

Nada más...

Nada más queda|| -- she finished singing, and gets away from the Window, stumbling against homelanders chest.

--what do you want

He takes her hands pressing them against his chest-- to say thank you, youre always so kind to me, and im just an asshole every day, god what did I do to deserve you

She sighed looking at him-- if you werent worth it I wouldnt even speak to you homelander, its late come on

He smiled and chuckled Pink cheeks.

She leads him to her room, and lays down

-- I uh was expecting the sofá

-- youre always lonely, about time you get some company, lay down

-- fuck, im not waiting for you to change your mind, he quickly changes, thanking god he always forgets his clothes.

He slips in bed and hugs her,unsure.

-- is it okay if I uh...-- he hesitated, she just nodds and he hugs her tightly enough to make her feel safe.

--night-- she whispered.

--...night...and uh...laz, thank you..again..youre too kind

She turns around and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips-- not need to thank me, lets go to sleep okay? Come on you have to save the world tomorrow

Hes beaming with happiness snuggling closer to her, he was truly lucky.