#protect cristobal

[dreamlover31]

So... quite the episode of Mayans tonight

I am so relieved that EZ didn't kill Angel but the fact that after 3 seasons he decides to kill Happy for what he did to their mother?! Like seriously WTF I was shocked when Angel walked in the door and the camera zeros in on Happy's face lol

Also jumped for joy when it was confirmed who Soledad wanted Adelita to kill so she and her family can be free of her...yeah you guessed it it's EZ the question is will she go through it since she's playing a double agent essentially where she's working for the cartel while making plans to possibly attack them

I guess it's a good thing Luis was showing Emily how to shoot a gun cause she's going to need it with that crazy Bucksar woman on the loose, which was very foolish of her to try to kidnap Cristobal from the park like did she not think Emily was going to tell her drug lord husband what happened and have her 'taken care of'

[pavlikbuonarroti]

th. the episode dropped on soap2day.

[thewomanwhoboughttheworld]

Last night I finished watching Barry and, after having slept on it, I want to say something.

WHAT.

A.

SHOW.

I mean, if you haven't already seen it go and catch up because wow. It's only four seasons, eight episodes each, about 30 minutes each episode. I promise it's worth it.

Little shitty recap if you haven't seen the series: Barry Berkman is an ex-marine who comes back from Afghanistan and becomes a hitman. When he discovers theatre and meets Sally (a girl he falls for) and Gene (acting teacher), Barry decides he wants to change his life. Shit happens, the Chechen mafia is involved, he can't leave his life behind so he always finds himself in the darkest place.

Don't keep on reading if you haven't seen the show because I'm about to go and spoil it for y'all as I will talk about the last season and the last episode.

I get it, alright? I get why people don't like the ending. It's because it doesn't have a build-up or a build-down, it doesn't resolve anything, it's just... An ending. Just like in Bojack Horseman, when Bojack is sitting on the roof with Diane and she tells him it's just an ending. That's exactly what Barry's last minutes are. Just an ending.

We don't need something big, some action-packed gran finale with whatever you can think of. We already had that. We already had an adrenaline-filled last episode in past seasons, but it always meant that something else was going to happen, that the story wasn't finished. And you know what they had in common?

Barry.

Those endings all had to do with Barry. Barry killed Janice. Barry went on a shooting spree. Barry wanted to seek revenge. But Barry's not there anymore, so who else is going to keep on the violence and the blood thirst? Nobody. Not NoHo Hank, who is dead. Not Gene, who's in prison. Not Sally, who wants to get away from all of this and care for her son.

This simple and bitter ending is just perfect for the tone set by all of the series. It's a satire, it's sad, and it makes you want to shout at John not to believe in what he's seeing. But it's real and raw. It is upsetting, that's true, just as the whole series is because Barry's point isn't to comfort you. It's never been.

Furthermore, what else could we have more? Every character got their own ending, in a way. That's it, there was nothing more to say.

Fuches (my God, Stephen Root you excellent actor, how I hated your character throughout the seasons) served his time in prison and got what he deserved. He still couldn't leave his criminal life behind, but we see that he understood his mistakes. We can see it in his eyes when he brings John back to Barry. Don't fuck it up, kiddo, don't fuck him up. Will he keep on leading a criminal life? Of course, he doesn't know anything else. Will he manipulate another kid like he did with Barry since he was a child? Not likely.

NoHo Hank... Listen, I still had my heart in pieces from the Ineffable Divorce (my babies deserve so much more, I believe in the South Downs cottage) and now THIS?! I WANTED TO SCREAM, OKAY? Nohobal was so precious and the healthiest couple on the show (I can't believe I just said that about two criminals but whatever) and this is what they pulled? Bill Hader, I love you with all my heart but I'm never going to forgive you. But it's so incredibly in character for Hank because even if we see him as this sweet and polite guy, he always chooses violence. Ever since the first season, his answer was always violence, even if it was to protect Cristobal and their future together. We just see him in a darker place and I just-- That last scene with Hank dying and holding Cristobal's statue's hand is *chef's kiss*. Give Anthony Carrigan his fucking deserved Emmy Award.

OH. MY. GOD. GENE. Even though I thought he was slightly off the entire season, I think it's fine. We've always seen him composed and rational, but this season he just let emotions take hold of him. He was so scared and angry and just didn't know what else to do. I was so worried he was going to unalive himself with that gun but boy. He did it. He really killed Barry. I couldn't believe it at first but wow. And Henry Winkler, my friends, is the reason why NOBODY should be typecasted. He was so good and believable and overall GLORIOUS in this series that I can't believe the industry didn't see his talent back then and just wanted him to play different versions of the Fonz. But Henry darling, I love you so much but I can't look at that hair and that beard.

Sally's such a complex character it is really hard to break down. I love how we can still see her trauma, her abused and abusive nature. She's always true to herself, even if she grows and changes for the better. I love that she found a passion for teaching and decided to be what Cousineau was for her. I really think she will be a great mentor if she can let her ego go. I love how she understood what John would have done at his (boy)friend's house and accepted it. I think that, while in the car, she was choosing what to do next. Do I tell my son the truth, that that movie is bullshit and his father was a killer, or do I play along so that I won't fuck him up? That's what her eyes told me, but I may be wrong. But wow. Sarah Goldberg is perfect. Just perfect.

And now Barry... Barry, who I loved so much, who I believed in, who I rooted for. Barry who can't stop being violent, is a killer at heart, who can't be redeemed. He's unforgivable, he can't make it right. We've seen it in the past seasons when he couldn't escape from Fuches and the mafia and all of that, we see it now as he dies before turning himself in. It's mindblowing. Bill Hader is such a fucking genius and such a good actor that I don't even know what to say. I could talk all day about this series and this character, but I think this post would be too long.

In the end, great series. One of the best I've seen in recent years, one of my favourites. Thank you, Bill, for making this show come to light and being so freaking good at writing, directing and playing in it.

[lovaboy]

hank perched on the front of cristobal’s desk yes yes very good look at him pose! go gay boy go etc. however it is also the stance of someone protecting the person he loves most by putting himself in the line of potential fire because he’s nearly lost cristobal once and he won’t let it happen again

[imagineredwood]

May I request an image or hc (whatever you feel artistically ) Miguel having an ex wife and older child and them finding common ground with Emily

He just wants peace

He knows that having both an ex and current wife is never something that is typically easy

Much less when you throw in a cartel

But he wants as much peace in his home life as possible and he knows that the only way to make that happen is to ensure that there's respect that goes both ways

Respect that Emily is is wife now

Respect that you were the first and the mother of his first child

Respect that though the children are technically half-siblings, they are still family and neither is more important than the other

Respect that you are both women that he loved and loves, just now in different ways

He would never expect you to be best friends with her, especially if the split between the two of you was harsh or heartbreaking

But he would enjoy being able to have the two of you in once room peacefully

He would make sure that Emily knew you two would raise/discipline your child as you saw fit, and while he wouldn't mind hearing her opinion from time to time, to make sure she didn't overstep

He would protect all of you with the same ferocity because you're all still his family

He would make sure your older child knew that he still loved you very much and would always look after you, just not as a husband anymore

He would want the child to know that he loved them as much as Cristobal and that he was always welcome

Overall I think he would want to keep everyone happy and peaceful or at least cordial at best if there was bad blood

He would entertain both of you with your concerns but ultimately I feel he would take his role as a father the most seriously and ensure that any differences were put aside at least when the children were around

[lesbianexorcist]

im seeing discussion equating that scene to hank being emotionally abusive and maybe im stupid but he was desperately manipulating cristobal to stop him and save him… right?!? Like ‘you cant leave you know too much’ aka the Chechens will kill you for it, not hank being selfish and trying to just stop the breakup!!! And hanks awkward body blocking/intense hugging of cristobal was to protect him from the inevitable of being shot!!! Right!!

[drabbles-mc]

Left Behind

Nestor Oceteva x Erin Thomas

For Day 21 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: scars / "It's just a scratch."

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, mentions of blood/injury, alcohol

This fic is technically a follow-up to Doctor Recommended but it can be read as a standalone.

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I went into this with whump in mind and somehow it turned into smut. So. You know. We're being generous with calling this a whump fic lmao. Also I write smut once maybe every five thousand years?? So go easy on me. Honestly, mj said that they need to make out and fuck on the counter and they were so right!!! So here goes!!!

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @narcolini @darqchilddaydreamz @passionatewrites @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

There was a specific type of stillness in the house since Miguel, Emily, and Cristobal had left. Erin was looking forward to having the entire Galindo mansion all to herself. She knew better than to ask why she hadn’t been part of the family invite to go to whatever event for whatever cover business Miguel was currently opening. The reality was that they were doing her a favor leaving her behind, because it wasn’t like she would’ve had a good time anyway.

She’d had her music on, for the entire afternoon, content to relax and enjoy herself with no spectators around for once. As the afternoon started to fade into the evening, she let herself into Emily’s extensive stash of wine. She figured that it wasn’t as though her sister was really going to notice a bottle or two missing—reality was that someone would probably replace them before anyone else besides Erin even knew that they were gone.

She was upstairs, changing and swapping out her regular clothes for her pajamas. Her cropped t-shirt being exchanged for an over-sized one, jeans being traded in for a pair of soft shorts. She was in the middle of that when she heard the door shutting downstairs.

Neither Miguel nor Emily had mentioned anything about anyone stopping by while they were gone for the next couple of days. Erin figured that maybe one of the various people they hired to help take care of the house, the pool, the garden, the whatever, might stop by at some point. But it was a little late for that. She frowned for a moment, leaning down and reaching underneath what had become her bed for the baseball bat that she’d gotten to keep under there after the last time she got scared and realized that all she had to defend herself were her own two hands.

Emily had laughed and rolled her eyes when Erin came home with it. And why wouldn’t she? Why would a woman whose husband had a whole security team dedicated to keeping her safe and running interference ever feel like she needed an extra line of protection? But Erin didn’t trust anyone enough to not have a failsafe. She definitely didn’t have enough faith in Miguel to trust him blindly.

Creeping quietly across the hallway that led to the staircase, Erin kept her bat raised and at the ready. Her bare feet were silent on the staircase as she slowly made her way down. She was nearly to the bottom step when whoever it was that had entered the house turned her music down. She frowned, adjusting her grip around the handle before stepping onto the first floor of the house.

She heard someone’s footsteps coming from the kitchen, and she felt herself holding her breath as she waited to catch sight of whoever it was, or hear them. There was the muffled clattering of things hitting the counter. She took a couple more steps towards the kitchen when she caught a quick glimpse of him, shuffling around the kitchen putting things away.

She sighed, arms dropping back to her sides, tip of the bat tapping harshly against the hardwood floor. “What the fuck, Nestor?”

He materialized, stepping out around the dividing wall between the kitchen and the rest of the house. “What?”

She made a broad gesture with her empty hand. “Do you ever think to announce yourself? Say hello, maybe?”

“Who else would it be?”

She pointed the bat at him. “That’s exactly my fucking point.”

He shrugged. “Least you brought a bat with you this time.”

Despite the initial urge to laugh at his comment, Erin mentioned to refrain. In turn, she made her own reference to the run-in they’d had about a month prior. “Least you can use both arms this time.”

He didn’t smile but Erin could see the way that he almost wanted to. Perching the bat against her shoulder, she strode into the kitchen. Nestor waited for her to say something else, but when she didn’t, he went back to the task he’d been engrossed in before. Erin leaned against her side of the island, watching as he put things away. All the time that she’d been spending at Emily and Miguel’s house, and she still couldn’t say with certainty if there was anything that necessarily fell outside of Nestor’s scope of responsibility.

“Thought you would’ve been part of the family vacation,” she finally said.

Nestor shrugged, not turning around to face her as he replied, “Could say the same about you.”

Erin laughed at that. “Emily treats me like a feral cat—she’ll feed me at home but she’s sure as shit not gonna bring me anywhere.” She paused. “What’s your excuse?”

He pulled out a bottle of wine, same label as the one that was already on the counter and nearly empty. “Taking care of the feral cat.”

She laughed again. “Oh, he has a sense of humor.” She finally set the bat down, leaning it against the side of the island. “Just takes being in an empty house.” There was a stretch of silence before Erin spoke up again. “You don’t have to stay. Feels like a waste of time.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Right. You have a bat.”

She smirked. “Exactly. See? You get it. So go home.”

“Can’t,” he said with another shake of his head.

Erin rolled her eyes. “Your boyfriend isn’t here—you don’t have to listen to him. I’m not gonna snitch on you to Mike if you actually decide to go and try to have a life for the next forty-eight hours.”

“Erin,” exasperation was dripping off the singular word, so much so that he didn’t even have to say anything else.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes as she walked over to the speaker that her phone was hooked up to, turning the volume back up a bit as she continued, “but you don’t get to turn my music off.”

The two of moved around each other, both working separately in the same space. Nestor was putting away the last few things that he’d brought, and Erin was finally starting to pull something together for dinner. For as much as Nestor wanted to reach over and turn the music back down, he did have to admit that the noise made it so that he didn’t feel like he was supposed to be entertaining some kind of conversation. Erin had no problem doing most of the talking anyway, but this was all much more Nestor’s speed.

Erin was reaching for something in the same cabinet as Nestor when she saw a stain on his sleeve. Normally it wasn’t something that she would notice or pay much mind to, but the rust color that was tarnishing the floral print of his button-down was difficult to ignore.

“What happened to your arm?” she asked, her tone casual as she moved back to the stove.

Nestor’s brows furrowed as he turned his arm over to look at what exactly she was referring to. He frowned, more out of annoyance than pain. Shaking his head, he said, “Nothing.”

Erin chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think you know what that word means.”

He didn’t want to feed into the argument but before he could stop himself, he said, “It’s fine.”

She stopped, turning so that she was facing him. “It’s nothing,” she mocked, “It’s fine. It’s just a scratch.” She shook her head at him. “You’re gonna lose that arm, dude.”

Nestor took a deep breath, like he was gearing up to have some sort of response that would stop the debate before it began. Instead, he let out a sigh and finished up what he was doing, shutting the cabinet when he was done. Without another word, he turned and started to walk out of the kitchen, giving Erin the space she had clearly been looking forward to having when everyone else had left.

He didn’t even make it past the threshold when she spoke up. “Let me see it.” She watched as he turned around, confusion on his face. “Let me see your arm,” she elaborated.

Nestor wanted to ask why, wanted to have some sort of slick, sarcastic comment in response to the question the same way she seemed to have one for everything that he, or anyone else really, ever said. Nothing came out, though. He simply just shook his head.

“I’m serious,” she said as she took a step in his direction.

“Since when?”

She scoffed. “You know, what? Fine.” She threw her hands up in defeat. “But when you have to get that shit amputated, I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

The cut really hadn’t been that bad. It hadn’t even needed stitches. And, coming off having to wear a sling for the last month, it hardly even made a blip on his radar. Still, despite the fact that Erin was talking like she was going to give up on the whole thing, Nestor knew better. She was nothing if not incessant. With a deep sigh, he walked back over, undoing the buttons at the cuff of his sleeve as he went.

Rolling the fabric back, Nestor revealed the white gauze that was wrapped around his forearm. Well, the gauze had started off white. It was almost entirely red now, the gash running up his forearm having reopened at some point throughout the day when he hadn’t realized it. He was looking down at the blood-soaked bandage, clearly unimpressed.

When his eyes wandered back up to Erin’s face, he couldn’t get a good read on her expression. It wasn’t really one that he’d seen on her before. He stood and waited for the joke, the jab, but it never came. He watched her shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. Shaking her head, she turned around and went to shut the stove off, clearly abandoning whatever plans she’d had for making dinner for herself.

“What?” he finally asked.

She gestured to the bandage. “You can’t leave it like that.”

He shrugged. “I can take care—”

“Obviously, you can’t. Or won’t. Either way…” her voice trailed off as she walked out of the kitchen and went off to get something to replace the bandage with.

Nestor called after her, but she didn’t even give him a verbal response. All he got was a good look at the back of her head and a waving-off gesture as she went off to do exactly what she wanted to and nothing less.

When she came back, she had a first aid kit in her hands. Nestor watched her from where he was seated at the island. His arm was perched against it, a dish towel keeping him from getting blood all over the countertop.

She set the first aid kit onto the surface of the island next to him. She studied his forearm before she looked him in the eyes again. “Couldn’t take the bandage off while I was gone?”

“I told you it’s fine,” he repeated, no real emotion coming through his voice one way or another.

She rolled her eyes. “How have you lived this long when you have no self-preservation skills?”

Nestor could sense that the question was rhetorical, so he kept his mouth shut as he watched her start to slowly peel away and unravel the gauze that was wrapped around his forearm. The pull of it against the cut that was trying to clot stung every now and then, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t let it show.

The more gauze she unraveled, the more Erin realized that the cut was more serious than she had originally thought. She noticed the way that it continued up underneath his sleeve, skin she didn’t have access to. Exhaling through her nose, she looked up at the ceiling for a second before looking back at Nestor.

“You’re not going to make me ask, are you?”

He lifted is eyebrows slightly. “Ask what?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “So you are going to make me ask, make me feel like some kind of creep.” She tapped the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. “Take this off.”

Much to Erin’s surprise, Nestor didn’t bat an eye at the request. She figured that he would drag it out, or just outright refuse. But he just reached and started to undo the buttons on his dress-shirt. He wasn’t looking at her as he said, “Wasn’t a question, but alright.”

She laughed quietly. “Can’t say no if it’s not a question.”

That got half of a smirk out of him. Erin was picking through the kit on the counter. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, out of the corner of her eye she couldn’t help but to notice all of the ink on his chest and stomach. She expected him to have on a tank top or a t-shirt underneath—it was a surprise but it wasn’t one that she was upset about.

Her eyes were still trained on the bandages in the first aid kit as she said, “No undershirt? Seems a little scandalous for the workplace.”

Nestor huffed out something that was almost a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting to have to take my shirt off.”

She looked over at him then, eyes moving even though her head didn’t. “That’s fair.”

That was the last comment she made about it as she went back to taking off what little gauze was still wrapped around his arm. She promptly tossed the bloodied bandage into the trash can before grabbing a washcloth to run under warm water, something to clean off the dried blood that was still stuck to his skin.

Nestor was surprised at how careful and gentle she was as she cleaned the blood away. With someone who seemed to move through life with nothing but reckless abandon, he wasn’t mentally prepared for her to have such a deft hand with this. He didn’t comment on it, though.

“Should I even bother asking how this happened?” Erin couldn’t even try to venture a guess. Despite what Nestor had said to her before, it was much more than just a scratch. If it had been any worse he definitely would’ve needed stitches. He probably still needed to get it checked out by a professional but she was sure that that hadn’t happened. Then he’d have to give some doctor an explanation that wasn’t whatever illegal activities had most definitely caused the injury.

He didn’t want to tell her, but he didn’t want to lie to her, either. So, he shook his head. “No.”

She smiled even though she knew she probably shouldn’t. “Right.”

Even though Nestor very rarely took the time to take as much care of his injuries as he should, he did know basic first aid. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but his default was thinking that Erin probably didn’t. He kept a close eye on her as she worked. Even with the music in the background, it still felt like the house was extremely quiet. Nestor was watching Erin and her singular focus on his arm, the way that she finished cleaning and started wrapping it back up again. He had been waiting for an opportunity to advise or correct her, but it didn’t happen.

He wanted to ask her how she got so good efficient at it, why she was able to do it so confidently, but he had the feeling that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of her. He watched with piqued interest as she tied off the last of the gauze, the small knot resting on his arm just enough to the side where it wouldn’t get in the way of him comfortably resting his arm against the counter or anything else.

She finally pried her eyes from his arm and looked back up at his face. “Any other injuries I should know about?”

He shook his head, fighting harder than he cared to admit to keep a neutral expression—he’d never hear the end of it if he let her know that he was impressed. “No.”

Shrugging, she walked back towards the sink. “Alright.”

Now that she didn’t have to devote her focus to the open wound on his arm, Erin took a moment to actually look at the rest of him. She knew that she shouldn’t have been surprised, necessarily, to find out that most of him was covered in tattoos, but she still found herself staring longer than she should’ve as she scrubbed his blood from her hands.

When she looked back up at his face, she found him already staring at her. Her face suddenly felt hot and this warmth wasn’t coming from the wine she’d been drinking all evening. Clearing her throat, she reached and shut the faucet off. “Shit’s probably gonna scar,” she said, nodding towards his arm as she dried her hands. “It’s probably going to mess up your ink.”

He shook his head, holding his button-down in his hand but not making any move to put it back on yet. “I’m used to it.”

Erin chuckled, not sure what else was a proper response to that statement. “Good? I guess?” She shook her head as she walked back over to him. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“You always come up with something.”

It wasn’t untrue. However, now that she was closer to him, she had a hard time coming up with something to say about anything. She looked at his other tattoos, all of the ink splattered across his chest and down his arms, territory that was usually buried underneath one of what seemed like a thousand different floral dress shirts. And, sure enough, when she looked closely at a few of them, she could see the blemishes, scars that broke up what used to be perfect lines and seamless shading. All that damage and for what?

Before she even knew what she was doing, Erin reached out and traced her fingertips along one of the raised scars that was just below Nestor’s shoulder, running parallel to it and stopping just before it reached his arm. He didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch in the slightest. But it only took a couple seconds for Erin to realize what she was doing, quickly yanking her hand back as embarrassment flooded her face, a look that Nestor wasn’t acquainted with on her.

“Shit. Sorry. That,” she laughed nervously, “that was fucking weird of me.”

“It’s fine.” The words didn’t match up with the neutral expression on his face, but neutral was the best Nestor could do as he tried to figure out what he was actually feeling.

Erin laughed, shaking her head. “No, it’s n—” She stopped herself short when she finally looked him in the eyes again, the look in them one that she hadn’t seen before.

Nestor watched the embarrassment melt away from her expression the longer that she stood there looking at him. She wanted to say something, do something, but never in her life had she been able to gauge what Nestor was actually feeling or thinking. The last thing she wanted to do was make this situation anymore volatile than she already had. Part of her wanted to try and walk away, but it felt like her feet were glued to the floor.

Unable to make herself do anything else, she reached and rested her hand against him again, fingertips brushing over his scar, the tattoo that it cut through, her palm resting just far enough onto his chest for her to be able to feel how quickly his heart was hammering away in his chest. Her eyes slowly pried away until she was looking at his face again, and she was met with an expression that even though she’d never seen it on him, she knew exactly what it meant.

Nestor saw the way that she opened her mouth to say something, and he didn’t give her the chance to. Before either of them could fully process what was happening, Nestor was up out of his chair, shirt falling to the floor, crowding her back against the edge of the island as his lips crashed into hers.

There was no resistance, like she’d been expecting it, hoping for it. She pushed up into him, her hand sliding up just enough to grip onto his shoulder, nails digging in like a cue to give her more. He had one hand braced against the edge of the counter on either side of her, caging her in. He leaned against her more, the heat radiating off his chest enough to soak through her shirt onto her own skin.

She brought both hands up, resting them on either side of his neck for a moment before allowing them to slide down, fingers splaying as they raked over his chest. She lightly pulled his lip between her teeth as she pulled away. Even when they’d come back up for air, their lips weren’t even an inch apart, each of them able to feel the other’s unsteady breaths.

“Fuck,” the word came out hushed, nearly buried underneath her breath and the music that was still filling the kitchen.

Nestor hesitated, trying to figure out if that reaction was a good one or a bad one. He didn’t move, waiting for some other cue from her about whether he should leave, or whether he should keep going. He knew which of those options he was hoping it’d be.

He was about to ask if she was okay when she slid her hands back up, interlocking them behind his neck so that she could pull him back down into another kiss. Nestor wasted no time in obliging, bringing his hands to the small of her back for a moment before sliding them down over her ass until they were resting on the backs of her thighs. Without pulling his lips off of hers, Nestor lifted her up, hooking her legs around his waist as he set her on the edge of the island.

He brought his hands to the tops of her thighs, digging his fingers into the flesh there enough so that he could pull her closer, tighter, until the only space between his hips and hers were the clothes between them. He felt her lock her legs tighter around him, not allowing either of them space to pull away as his hands crept up her legs.

Nestor pulled his lips off hers only to drag them along her jaw and down onto her neck. He grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin there, feeling the way her nails sank into the exposed skin of his back as he did. She could feel the way his lips curled into the first real smile she’d ever gotten out of him as one of his hands slipped up well past the hem of her shorts, thumb finding the space where her thigh met her hip.

She caught his lips with hers as his hand strayed between her legs. He eagerly swallowed the moan she let out as he pulled her panties to the side, allowing him to feel what he’d done to her. If there had been any hesitation left in his body at all, it was gone the second he felt her grinding against his hand. She more than willingly took whatever he was giving her, one of her hands resting against the back of his head to keep his lips pinned to hers as she tried to pull more and more from him.

When he recoiled the slightest bit, putting just a fraction of distance between them, Erin couldn’t stop the whine that escaped her. Nestor’s eyes bore into hers, tongue running along his bottom lip as he tried to commit the sound to memory. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face as his hands landed on the waistband of her shorts. He was twisting his fingers into the fabric as he took in the hazy look in her eyes, her kiss-swollen lips.

He felt like he was supposed to have something to say, but that’d never been his strong suit. Instead, he gave a slight tug at her waistband, a wordless call for assistance. Bracing her hands against his shoulders, she obliged, lifting her hips off the island just enough to slide her shorts down off of them. She unhooked her legs from around his waist, allowing him to put space between them just enough so that he could slide them off and let them drop to the floor.

His lips were back on hers in a second, hand trailing down over the fabric of her shirt, only to slip underneath it and travel their way back up, calloused hands traveling over the soft skin of her stomach and sides. It was only then that he realized that Erin had some unexplained scars of her own, the ridges and divots of them passing beneath the pads of his fingers. Questions for another night.

He’d been so distracted by his own wandering hands that he almost missed the way that hers were now working at the buckle of his belt. She made quick work of it, not having any issues despite the fact that she was flying blind. Nestor’s breath caught in his throat as she undid the button and zipper of his slacks as well.

Nestor took the cues he’d been given, hands moving to grip onto her hips. She let him guide her forward, precarious on the edge of the counter but she trusted him not to let her drop. The string of raspy curses that Nestor let out as he slid into her made a smirk pull at the edge of her mouth for just a moment before her mouth was back on his again.

Erin had one hand on his shoulder, one wrapped around the edge of the counter to keep herself steady. There was something in the fierceness of his grip, how tightly he kept his hold on her, that almost made Erin want to put up a bit of a fight. She wanted to make him work for it, just because she could. But he felt too good sliding in and out of her to try and make him stop or slow down now. Next time.

Nestor moved one hand, temporarily releasing the bruising grip he had on her hips as he brought his hand up to the side of her face. His hand rested there, thumb dragging along her cheekbone for a moment until she pulled her lips off of his. The softness of the gesture in contrast to everything else had caught her off-guard. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, watching the way she fought to get her composure back, a pointless task if ever there was one.

He lingered, thumb against her chin, lips mere centimeters from hers. He wondered how long he was going to be able to drag the moment out for. However, he’d hardly finished thinking the thought when Erin wrapped her legs tighter around him, pulling him farther into her and putting his lips back against hers in a clumsy, needy kiss.

It was all hands and teeth and shuddered breath as the two of them fought just to see how close they could get. The intensity had caught Erin off-guard coming from someone who never seemed to bat an eye or be enthusiastic about anything. It was almost like he was a completely different man sinking his teeth into the space where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the way his intensity picked up, movements a little more desperate. Her nails raked across his back, trying to anchor herself in the midst of feeling like she was losing herself in him.

It felt like it took more effort than it should to try and untangle herself from around him when it was over. For a minute, neither of them even tried. Nestor let her stay wrapped around him and she let him keep leaning against her and the island beneath her for support. The rise and fall of their chests were drastic, out of sync as Nestor rested his forehead against hers.

Erin’s hands slid down so that her palms were flat against his chest again. She didn’t pull away from him as she felt the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her hand. Once she caught her breath enough, she managed a quiet laugh.

Nestor didn’t even pull away at that, instead he just asked, “What?”

She let the sound of his breathless voice bounce around her brain for a few moments before finally making herself answer. “Not sure what I’m supposed to say to you.”

There was a half-smile on Nestor’s face as he pulled back to be able to look her in the eyes. “That all it took?”

She laughed a little harder, shaking her head at him. “Shut up.” Finally taking her hands off him, she placed them on the counter. “Can I have my underwear now? And my shorts?”

She ran her hands down her face as Nestor readjusted himself and picked her clothes up off the floor. He handed them to her, watching as she shook her head. She pulled them up her legs, managing to just get them over her hips.

“Well, now that we’ve thoroughly disrespected Mike and Emily’s counter,” she said with a laugh as she hopped down, feet landing silently on the floor, “I’m gonna go, you know, shower.”

Nestor looked down at her, noticing the way that she was still pinned between him and the edge of the counter behind her. His face went back to being hard to read as he nodded at her. “Okay.”

“You’re not gonna be, like, fuckin’ weird about this, right?” she asked, not really sure what him being weird about it would even look like.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Good. Reassuring,” there was her usual hint of sarcasm in her voice as she said it. When he didn’t move to let her leave, Erin found her eyes traveling all over him again, the reality sinking in that it might be the first and last time that she got to see him like this. Her gaze finally landed back on his bandaged arm, the thing that got this entire mess started. She touched it lightly with her fingers, noticing the way that he didn’t pull away from her. “So now do I get to know what happened?”

Shaking his head slightly, he moved to the side, allowing her to leave. “Go shower.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was still a smile on her face as she said, “Whatever.”

Just when she was about to walk out of the kitchen, Nestor called after her, “Don’t forget your bat.”

Turning around, she faced him as she kept walking, in the opposite direction. “If you’re here, I apparently don’t need it, so,” she threw her hands up before turning back around and making her way up the stairs.

Nestor shook his head at her as he watched her silently make her way back up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, he swiped his bloodied shirt up off the floor, holding it in his hand as he walked over and, once again, turned her music down. Dragging his free hand down his face, he looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened.  Taking a deep breath, he tried not to overthink it. He couldn’t help but to look at the bandage wrapped around his arm, couldn’t stop the tiny hint of a smile that crossed his face as he looked at it, not caring about the mess that was sure to follow.

[emmanuelbagac]

Sto. Tomas, Batangas and Los Banos, Laguna

Entry point: Sitio Jordan, Brgy. San Miguel, Sto. Tomas Exit point: UP College of Forestry, Los Banos, Laguna LLA: 14.13°N 121.20°E, 1090 MASL (Peak 2) Hours to Peak 2 / days required: 1-2 days / 5-8 hours

Specs: Major climb, Difficulty 5/9, Trail class 3 with roped segments Features: Roped segments, rocky face, limatik, rattan, tropical rainforest

The Makiling Traverse (which we first referred to as "Maktrav" in 2008), invented by Sky Biscocho in the early 1990s, is still a well-liked dayhike. The height of Mt. Makiling is 1090 meters above sea level, or 3576 feet. It provides climbers with a thorough view of the Southern Tagalog mountains, including Mt. Banahaw, Mt. Kalisungan, Mt. Cristobal, Mt. Obabis, and Mt. Prinza, from the summit.

According to Dr. Jose Rizal’s writings in the year 1890 about the story and myth of Maria Makiling: Once upon a time in a place called Makiling, there lived a god and goddess couple. They have a daughter named Maria. Maria is a very beautiful maiden or fairy. Her beauty is captivating and any young man will be charmed by her porcelain complexion and shining eyes. Their family is known to be kind and helpful to others, especially those in need, which is why the people around them love them so much. In those days, the gods were given the power to mingle with the people. One day a charming young farmer saw Maria one day, and upon seeing her beauty, he fell in love with her. Since then, he has always looked forward to it. The young farmer is the envy of his fellow farmers since, thanks to Maria Makiling's care and protection, neither plague nor bugs have harmed his crops. The young man thus always ascends the mountain to meet and be with his fairy lover. They quickly developed a romantic relationship, which the girl's parents learned about. Because a goddess cannot fall in love with a mortal, Maria's parents promptly cut off contact with that man.

[themarionette-theporcelaindoll]

hank is sooo good like I know we joke about hank and cristobal running away together to be happy but THAT'S NOT THEM they cant escape the narrative. hank himself told cristobal "we don't run" and by god he's not gonna!! hank is gonna fight tooth and nail to protect what they have and they will not be escaping this unscathed

[charlottenorthup]

Viewing Response 1

The scene that I chose to focus on in my reflection is the scene in which Carmen is ripped away from Cristobal. Upon finding out that the two are romantically involved, Cristobal’s mother and multiple guards approach the couple angrily. Throughout the scene, Cristobal’s mother questions Carmen, asking her when her spells began and how long she has been using her witchcraft on her son. I argue that this scene corresponds with O’Reilly’s analysis of the ways in which witchcraft and voodoo has been portrayed in television and movies over the years, specifically through the character or Marie in American Horror Story: Coven. O’Reilly writes that “despite Marie’s reputation for protecting the black community…her character is portrayed as fundamentally evil and she is destined to spend her eternity in hell” (35). The idea that the magic is inherently evil and manipulative is portrayed through the mother’s disbelief that her son could have fallen in love with Carmen on his own and instead that their love is being controlled by evil spells. This also sheds light on the dynamics of interracial relationships during this time period, Carmen having been a slave who falls in love with her owner, and the notion of inferiority and stereotyping. In addition to the connection to O’Reilly’s work, the scene’s use of dramatic lighting and sound contributes to the mood, as discussed in An Introduction to Television Studies. The dark lighting prevents the viewer from fully seeing what is happening behind the couple, enhancing the dramatic, secretive scene. In terms of sound, when the mother and guards are seen approaching, the dramatic music increases, promoting panic and danger as Carmen and Cristobal begin to cry out in protest. 

@theuncannyprofessoro

#oxyspeculativetv

[clio-just-clio]

ok I’ve ragged on the finale almost enough. there were many parts of the finale I absolutely adored, including but not limited to:

 - The end of Hank: I feel like Hank’s arc is probably the most consistent in the series, a slow descent into being as horrible a person as Barry is (which Barry of course inadvertently caused). The facade we see Hank build of the confident businessman-criminal in the time jump is a perfect encapsulation of his character - still that same bubbly, polite guy on the surface but completely hollow, broken, and in denial underneath. I absolutely adored the exchange he has with Fuches - he breaks down and seems so close to confessing he’s at fault for Cristobal’s death but he comes short, choosing the persona of the badass criminal kingpin he never was (he’s even wearing a very Kingpin-esque white suit during his final scene). Ultimately, his failure to accept responsibility for his actions is what causes his death, a great sendoff that nicely cements him as Barry’s unwitting foil. I loved the seeming implication that he too lands on the beach that Barry dreamed of, surrounded by his victims. Cristobal certainly awaits, but maybe he won’t recognize Hank there.

- Barry! The title character does not disappoint - I actually love that he never gets his blaze of glory, instead finding Hank and Fuches’ carnage and then getting fucking domed by Gene. I expected he’d die but I didn’t expect Gene to be the one to do him in - I thought it would be Sally, and I might’ve actually preferred that. but Gene killing Barry was fitting, as I described in my previous post. i especially like how Barry finally seeing the light and choosing to stick around and turn himself in (and maybe even try to make peace with Gene) is ultimately what gets him killed, as it’s far too little too late. Barry’s refusal to admit he’s a bad person until the end is his undoing as much as it is Hank’s. I also like Barry’s silent acknowledgement of Fuches saving John, and letting him leave in peace. Which brings us to....

 - Fuches. now I’m not sure if I’ve made this clear before but I am a massive, massive fan of Stephen Root as Fuches. I love the trope of the sniveling puppet-master who is an excellent manipulator but just kinda sucks. it’s funny to see that character get beat up - they deserve it! While I wish that we saw more of Fuches and Barry’s backstory (which is implied to basically be grooming in the 2nd episode of s4 but never directly acknowledged), I love that ultimately Fuches is the one who comes to his senses way before Barry does. I actually thought he’d be the Big Bad of the episode, but there really wasn’t one. Hell Fuches even did 2 genuinely compassionate and selfless things this episode, in trying to spare Hank by having him see the light and accept his actions, and then in protecting John when everything goes to shit. His final nod to Barry before disappearing into the shadows is a seeming acknowledgement of all the bullshit he put Barry through, and I think Barry actually understood that. hell, maybe that’s part of what changes his mind about turning himself in.

[dreamlover31]

For those of you who have yet to watch the latest episode of Mayans Mc...I suggest you avoid reading this post

Well it's official, EZ and Angel have lost both of their parents... Isaac in his state of bereavement over the loss of his brother decided to take it out on Angel only to have his dad Felipe get caught in the cross fire...when the Sons broke into his house he sprung into action and grabbed a pistol and a shotgun and protected his infant grandson until his last breath

Now I know Angel will be devastated by this tragic loss but I wonder if either EZ or Miguel would feel anything...I mean there's no love loss between these men for a lot of reasons... although it is a shame that Felipe will never get to know his other grandson Cristobal

On a minor note, Creeper's former girlfriend is summoned by Potter to supposedly help him silence the red headed deputy director in exchange for disposing of EZ Reyes... course she has no idea who she is dealing with because once you make a deal with Potter then he owns your ass

So next week is the series finale and all I can say is whatever happens just please kill that motherfucker EZ Reyes and keep Angel and Maverick safe

[rabbitcruiser]

Church of San Cristobal, Comillas (No. 1)

The Church of San Cristóbal is a Catholic church located in the center of the Cantabrian town of Comillas. It began to be built in the mid-seventeenth century (1640) after a discussion arose between the town and the administrator of the Duke of Infantado in the old church of Comillas, its construction ended in the mid-eighteenth century, not being consecrated until 1695. Erected in mountain baroque style, it follows the model of Transmeranian churches such as Isla or Ajo. It was the first church of these characteristics built in the western part of Cantabria, its plan and elevation were copied by other towns such as Terán, Roiz and Cabezón de la Sal, whose churches are very similar to that of Comillas, although this exceeds them in dimensions and monumentality. It is protected within the historical and artistic complex of the town of Comillas, which covers the entire old town.

Source: Wikipedia

[davidstanleytravel]

The Castillo San Cristobal was intended to protect colonial San Juan from land attack. The white domed building beyond is El Capitolio (1929), seat of Puerto Rico's Legislative Assembly.

[sam-t-a]

Okay. The shootout scene.

Disclaimer: Barry is an excellent show and the finale was definitely a beautiful, unique experience.

But that shootout scene sucked, both narratively and in terms of directing.

First of all, there was no good reason for all that shooting to take place. Hank didn't want to hurt the child, and neither did Fuches, so opening fire in a room full of guns is a shit fucking decision if you want to protect someone. The feud between Hank and Fuches simply wasn't well defined enough to be the crux of the finale.

But if we set aside the why it happened, the how is also not that great.

First of all, where is everyone standing? How did Fuches end up as the one shielding John with his body when Hank was already pushing him behind him when he got shot? How did Fuches (the main target of all the shooting) end up as the only un-wounded survivor? And where the fuck was Sally? Because she WAS in the room, and somehow she didn't get hurt OR move towards her son when the shooting stopped.

There was no reason for any of that other than that the narrative arc and the cinematic shot demanded that Fuches be the one to take John out to Barry.

I also don't know if the person in the background when John was being brought out was actually Anthony or a body double, but that person was still as a rock in the background while the sound of Hank and the closer shots of his face clearly show him moving. It was such a jarring continuity error for such an important scene, especially for someone who rarely ever notices that kind of stuff.

So that's the stuff I think would have needed to be worked out in the scene regardless of the story: who's standing where, who shoots who and why, who protects who and why, who survives and how.

Something that I wish had gotten more emphasis is that HANK FINALLY STOPPED BEING SOFT! And this is something that his grander arc had been building towards even pre-Cristobal. I think the limited time though didn't give Anthony enough of a chance to showcase that (and we all know he could) and instead it happened as a split-second decision in a split-second frame.

I understand the decision not to do that, but god does it feel like a wasted opportunity.

That being said, loved the show, loved the experience. Will come back with more thoughts eventually.

[closetdbisexual]

(walking around in circles) hank saved him so many times they were so in love but hank wanted to be what cristobal wanted him to be and hank wanted to rule LA and hank wanted it all and he just wanted to protect him and now cristobal is dead and gone and its all his fault. its really all his fault. a day ago they were at dave and busters together saying "now? we're fucking 🌈" and now one of them is dead