#running like water
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Trump Left Us
with a weakened, sick country
#trumpleftus#kamala 2024#kamala for president#kamala for potus#leaving like a father#running like water#taylor swift endorsement#when was the last time he saw#tiffany trump#kamala harris art#art#artist#trump art#debate 2024#2024 presidential debate#presidential debate
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Memory is a slippery thing; details are hazy, fickle. The more you strain, the less you see. A memory of a memory endlessly corrupting itself. (..) Because in recalling a point in time and how that moment made you feel, it is framed by a new feeling—the feeling of what that moment means to you now.
— A Note from Charlotte Wells (x)
#just wanted this in my tags hehe#aftersun#charlotte wells#running like water#in the sea#even the weariest river
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thinking about a cardigan fic.. with bad boy/player ari… who breaks your heart… but then comes back.. just like you knew he would… and you’re the one he finally learns to stay for 🥹
#I KNEW YOU#LEAVING LIKE A FATHER#RUNNING LIKE WATER#I—#and i knew you’d come back to me 🥺#you’d come back to me 🥹#eun’s tunes#Spotify
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Low tide
#artists on tumblr#visiting finland again#went on a long forest hike today#off road just full on climbing on cliffs and using trees to get up some paths#i always feel a bit paranoid about running into bears or something#but otherwise i love forests#nothing like the peace and quiet of an untouched forest#walked around a lake so it was easy not to get lost#as long as you see water you know where you are
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love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.
love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.
love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.
love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.
maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.
recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.
#writeblr#warm up#ps edited so it is more clear where “half” of men is coming from:#15% literally don't even touch water#an ADDITIONAL 35% ''wash'' by just running their hands under water WITHOUT SOAP#15+35 =50%#like that is not washing ur hands. go back and use soap#btw the numbers for women are 4% never washing and 15% ''just water''#which is still gross but like. sooo much better yikes#ps i know we're all gay on this site but watching ppl ''correct'' my math on this has been wild#i have a learning disability im genuinely bad at math so i check EVERY time someone corrects me#but no they're just confidently wrong.....#182 hours is a week babes. 182/24 (number of hours in a day) is ~7.6#that's where i got that number from. also from rent we know there's 168 hours in a week.#ALSO btw if u read this and ur response is ''men are also struggling rn tho'' like babe you missed the point of it tho#this doesn't even make fun of men it's legit just pointing out that bigotry against women isn't founded#in anything men actually CARE about . like they don't actually CARE about ''being clean'' when they make fun of armpit hair#or they would be WASHING THEIR HANDS.#men pretend to be rollin' in cash and Apex Predators and instead they are trained to be lazy and unwilling to act in emergencies#i have never and will never make fun of men for asking for more support on important topics like DV and mental health.#this is so clearly not about men; it's about how common just being plainly misogynistic has become.#like they don't try to hide it anymore.
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I’ve rushed here as soon as I woke up to check if ch. 30 had dropped after seeing the post last night.
Damn! This will be messy. I love they are being honest and so open and earnest. They deserve to be happy without anybody’s fuckery. Chucho be knowing though 😏 Also love he cut Melissa’s bullshit off real quick. He is more a parent to Andrea than Melissa was.
Now, Melissa Díaz is a shite mother. This bitch finds every single possible way to inflict emotional pain on her daughter. Has she forgotten how wrecked Andrea was over the whole called off wedding ordeal? She knew Javi and Andrea were together before Lorraine tried to baby trap Javi. Bitch still trying to steal from Andrea the joy of having at least the one person who’s loved her unconditionally. Bet she will call Lorraine’s mom to tell her Javi is back. I swear to god, if she does that I will start a petition for you to kill Melissa’s character off 😂
I’m here for some Lorraine slander too. She got off too easily.
Running Like Water
Chapter 30
pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)
fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues
fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon
word count: 5k
Masterlist
Genie gives you a sly smile when she sees your smirk when you sit back down on the couch.
Javier trails behind you, excusing himself to the kitchen to cook. You’re not sure what you’re doing. Honestly, you’re probably going to regret this. Fuck it. It felt too good to hold him. You tasted him, lips pressed to his neck. Touching someone you love, what a dangerous game. You’ll stay here tonight, then you’ll make a decision on what the next week looks like. A personal test that will probably have Jayla yelling your ear off about how bad of an idea this was.
Still you watch him from the love seat that faces the doorway to the kitchen. Seeing him move in the kitchen with deft, wiping his brow, clenching his jaw and looking oh so tortured. Your legs crossed, preventing any silly ideas you might conjure up from the beers Genie kept feeding you.
Everyone in the house seemed to be in good spirits. Even your mother who had been housing a glass of wine. Everyone was a bit tipsy by ten. The girls asleep atop coats on Chuchos bed down the hall. They’ll be woken from their slumber at midnight to ravage through the gifts under the tree.
Javier comes in alas, two beers in hand and beelines straight toward the empty seat next to you. Settling down, legs spread, offering up a beer for you. Your cheeks redden at the gesture, feeling your brother's knowing gaze. “Thank you.” You whisper, nudging him.
He doesn’t respond and just shifts to get more comfortable. Settling into the couch, shoulder to shoulder with knees pressed against each other. He could give you space but he decided against it. The closeness sends a shock to your core and you wish to forget it. He clears his throat and looks ahead at his father who also had a knowing smile at the interaction.
“It’s great to finally have both of you home.” Chucho nods. “Through all the ups and downs I’m just happy to see the four of you— Frankie, Genevieve, Andrea and Javi still friends. Just glad you guys are over your marijuana phase.”
The room erupts in laughter, you put your hands up in defense. “I never! Never smoked in here.”
Frankie cackled, “Yeah because Javi never let you, he was all— she’s too young for that shit.” The living room swirled with another round of laughs at the spot on impression of Javier.
“Wait… you guys smoked pot?” Your mother asked, eyes wide. Devoid of anger, just shock. The four of you grinned.
“It was the seventies.” Genie comments, cringing and bringing her water to her lips. She had been the only one of us completely sober. Your mind began to wander. James shook his head.
“Listen, they smoked pot and look how well off they all are. Beautiful family and two thriving salons. School teacher in New York City. And an American hero.” He butts in. Everyone in the room nods, your brother and his wife leaning into each other with smiles. Your eyes fall to your lap and slowly ride up from Javi’s knee to his face. A frown taut on his lips.
“Don’t look so down Javi. What are your next steps now that you’re here?” Your mom slurs, gesturing for him to speak. Her gold bangles sounded like sleigh bells from hell. You suck your teeth, feeling him tense up next to you. An American Hero. It strokes something in him and you feel him closing in on himself beside you.
“Uh- I just-I haven’t”
“Mami, he just got home today.”
She waved a hand for you to scratch. “Ay nena, I’m talking to Javier here.”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes, seeing him struggle to adjust to all this attention. He must have spent a lot of time talking about anything but himself. It would be a lot for anyone. To come home after three traumatic years to pestering questions from drunk elders. You see his eyes, nervous and unlike himself. You resist the urge to place your hand on his knee. He glances at your eyes then down at your lips swiftly before focusing on your mother again. Your brain short circuits at that, severely confused by his decision to fuck up your plan to keep your panties on tonight.
“Uhm-ehem.” He clears his throat. “I’m going to take it slow. Hopefully find someone, start a family. All in due time I suppose.” He chuckles and your mother nods curtly.
“Well…” And when your mother begins a statement this way you have to brace yourself for complete and utter nonsense. Shoot. “Lorrianne is still single only–”
“We do not speak the devil's name in this house.” Chucho cuts. And thank god he knew how to dial a room because still you all drunkenly laugh together. Your mother cackled, repeating that it was a joke. Some part of you feels like it’s not.
Still you laugh anyway.
Your mother is too tipsy to question why she’s now riding home with your brother. So is your brother but Genie—she’s winking at you while she pulls out of the parking lot. And Don Chucho doesn’t seem to be bothered. He squeezes your shoulder while you sit at the kitchen table, watching Javier rinse off the dishes.
Truthfully, you’re a bit more tipsy than you thought. There’s something about stepping out into that brisk December air that really hits you with the reality that you had been fed beers for the past five hours.
“You heading to bed?”
“Yes, happy you're home. Don’t do anything stupid.” He whispers the last part in your ear and kisses your cheek before exiting. “Merry Christmas!” He calls from the hallway, a bit slurred.
The entire night had been filled with stolen glances and knees pressing against each other. Not a direct word shared but now you were alone in the kitchen. The tipsier you got, the hotter your cheeks grew. Staring at his back while the stream of the water he uses occupies the silence, you cross your legs. He clears his throat, like he’s waiting to see who breaks this game first.
But honestly, all you could do is stare at the way the ripples of his back muscles and shoulder blades stretch his shirt.
Christ, you think while sipping the cure to your state. Water.
Luckily the pressing questions died down into a session of nostalgic storytelling. You try not to be bothered by your mother not being able to recall one dear moment from your childhood. It seemed everyone had one about you except her.
It made you think of the bee earrings that catch dust on your vanity. You are suddenly too sad to speak.
He clears his throat and turns. Arms crossed, making his biceps bulge in his shirt. Fuck, he was sexier than before. And he’s looking at you that same way. Like it’s taking a lot from him to not just spread you open right there in the kitchen. Your stomach pits at the distant memory of your breasts rubbing against the kitchen counter while he fucked some sense into you. Pretty little wife.
“I’m going to head out for a smoke. My clothes are unpacked yet, there should still be some old shirts in the drawers for you to change into.”
His words are like a splash of cold water, he exits the kitchen and the front door follows. Your brain barely caught up with anything he said. You were faced with the reality once again. You were going to sleep in Javier’s bed, and you promised yourself it was going to be casual.
Good god, why do I set such unrealistic expectations for myself?
You get up anyway, relieved that he’s allowing you privacy to change. You think if he was in the room while doing so you might’ve urged to just take it off himself.
You expected there to be more sentiment when you walked into his room after so long. After the last time.
It was the last time you had sex. It was a memory you liked to not look back on. Your last time being spent with him comforting you after having a panic attack. It was when you told him that you never thought you’d have a healthy sex life. Yet it was so much more than that. You were overcome with the trauma of your first relationship and the blistering reality of being so in love, that you couldn’t bear to watch him leave.
You’re back in that same spot, yet the room is empty, filled with boxes and suitcases.
You feel nostalgia run down your throat with a swallow. But ultimately are left with yearning to make more revelations here.
His bed was ruffled like he napped during the day and he had a suitcase open with clothing jumbled. You know he said to check his drawer but the smell of his cologne enticed you far too much to just throw on some old threadbare shirt that probably smells like a closet.
You pick a green t-shirt. A favorite of his, you remember him wearing it at Xavier’s memorial day barbecue a few years back. With a sting at your knee, you bend down to grab it before striping yourself of your sweater dress. Stockings off and tossed on the floor. With just your panties and hardened nipples grazing the thin material, you climb onto his bed. Dazed and determined to not let your pussy get the best of you.
The door creaked open and he came through. Hooded eyes blinking in disbelief. Maybe being perched on the bed with your thighs on display wasn’t the smartest. Perhaps shuffling under the covers would have been preferable to keeping his or your hands to yourself. He clears his throat and gives you a nod.
“You still smoke.” You comment. You never liked it, far more research has been done and you hate for him to get himself sick over something so trivial.
He clenches his jaw, eyes stuck on the curve of your breasts and nipples for a moment before he bends down to grab a pair of sleep pants from his suitcase. “Yes.” He turns, the unzipping of his pants makes you shift on your heels. Dropping his pants, the backs of his thighs and black boxers in your sight. Still, he respects your earlier requests of no funny business and he pulls on his new pants without a lingering second of sexual suggestion.
Much to your dismay he keeps his shirt on. “It’s still really bad for you.” You whisper, changing your seating position— knees to your chest now, back against the headboard. Javier turns with a small smile on his face observing your things tossed on his floor.
“Wanting things that are bad for you is healthy.” He murmurs, bending down with a soft groan. Folding his pants and placing them back in his suitcase. He looks up into your eyes, “So is wanting something that’s good for you. Makes us human.” He gets into bed with another grunt, old man.
You nod, hands holding your knees. Feeling your wound throb. You bite back a wince. Javier’s eyes are on your knee the second he feels you next to him. Creased brow, he takes his big fingers around your wrist and reveals the injury to him. In an instant, he’s manhandling you, still delicate and considerate of your stinging knee. He moves your legs across his lap. “How’d you get this?” He thumbs the surrounding area, inside of your knee and you throb. More ways than one.
“Fell in the subway.”
He grumbles, stroking and soothing your skin. It’s so much contact in one moment. You’re overcome with the urge to cry and tell him that every time you’ve ever felt pain you wished he were there. Any tiny cut, any feeling hurt, you wished to come home to tell him about it and curse the world together.
God bless you, you’re an honest drunk.
“It was a brutal fall, ripped my stocking and bled all the way home. Then it was snowing so it was all dirty. You ever get hurt and realize you’re no better than a kid, like you just wish there were someone there to kiss it better. Or like wanting someone to rub and be like sana sana colita de rana.” You ramble, eyes on the way his hand covers your entire knee and the way his thumb works into your soft skin. You gaze trails back up to his face and his stunning side profile is what you’re met with. The arch of his nose, the thick hair above his pretty pout. You wanted to drag your lips across it all and claim him.
His brow furrows, and you realize that may be its natural state. His free hand comes up and points at a tiny scar across the bridge of his nose. Eyes widening, you shove your face into his to get a view. Tip of your nose touching his cheek while you observe a new part of him. He chuckles.
“I’ve been on scene for more raids than I can count. Usually it’s a shoot out.” Your chest tightens and you back your face away. “Dodging, frantic, whatever. But there was this one, where we had one of Escobar's sicarios cornered. Well I had him cornered. Really fucked up guy, got two pregnant women killed sort of fucked up. Anyway, I was tired, and angry. And I should have just detained him when I had the chance. But… I was the one who saw the bodies. I wanted to rough him up myself. And I did, but in the midst of it all he head butted me and—yeah. Cracked my nose. Had a small gash and was bleeding all the way down to my teeth.” His finger traces to his mustache.
“Went back to my team, blood still pouring, drying on my mustache. In so much pain I could barely see. The adrenaline was so high so no one bothered to help me. I didn’t want to help me either, I just wanted to get the night done and over with. It was when I got home and dunked my face in cold water that I really wished I had someone there to take care of me.”
He frowns for a moment, not able to look you in the eyes. You both sit in silence and you digest it all. You knew—know, that your lives turned out very differently, you guess you haven’t even thought about how different.
Your frown isn’t momentary, your heart slows in your chest and you swear you don’t think. Maybe you can blame it on your drunkenness tomorrow. But you bring your pointer finger to the scar on his nose and he doesn’t flinch. The crease between his brow just flexes then smoothes out all together.
You rub the scar, and trail down the bump of his nose. You feel the slight crook that it must have left. You move again, grazing the tip, and landing on his mustache. The thing that used to brush against you, and at one point soaked his blood. His lip twitches when the tip of your nail brushes the soft skin of his cupid's bow. The pad of your finger presses against his lips and he cracks into a smile. One that’s more genuine than any he let out today. Maybe it’s because you’re both tipsy that he allows his eyes to crinkle and dimples to deepen. Your finger slipping and pressing to the cold surface of his teeth.
You let your hand fall to his chest, “I wish I was there.” You admit in a whisper.
“I don’t.” His voice vibrates against your palm.
You know what he means, and he knows you know what he means so he doesn’t rush to reassure you. You’re beyond need for that. “I know it was dangerous but I wish I was there to listen to you, wipe off your blood or whatever.” You whisper, doubling down. He huffs, he’s much more solid under your palm than he was a few years back. It must be tough work. You fight the urge to press your lips against the scar on his nose.
“You would have been disgusted by the person I was there—the person I've become.”
“No.” You mutter, you’ve already thought of all the horrible things he could have been doing and forgave him in your head years ago.
He shakes his head and grabs your wrist to move your hand onto your own lap. “I’ve killed people.”
“I know.”
“I fucked at least 2 hookers a week.”
He’s saying it like he wants you to run away or tell him he isn’t good enough, that he’s not the same person. Does he want you to snarl in his face and be angry? It seems like he must have forgotten the type of person you are. “Was it a different one each time?” You ask so maybe you cared more than you’d like to believe.
“It was the same four women.” He burns a hole through the wall with his gaze. He couldn’t even look at you.
“What were their names?”
He snaps to look at you, eyes roving around your face. Utter confusion between his brow. “Do you want me to hurt your feelings?”
“What did you think I was sitting with my legs crossed in New York City?”
He quirks a brow for a moment, you see the smallest glimpse of jealousy in his eyes before he sits up right and smirks. “Julia, Camila, Daniela and Dulce.”
You nod, “I’m hooking up with my colleague.”
He tightens his lips, “Alright.”
You chuckle dryly, tilting your head. “Does that bother you?”
Javier shrugs, “No but unlike you I rather not hear about my exes sexual whereabouts”
Your eyes drop to your lap at that. Tiredness creeping in to protect you from the danger that is speaking to Javier so late in the night. You hated that, “I never thought we’d ever be exes.”
It's silent again, you can almost hear Chucho snoring down the hall. How is it Christmas already, how is he here? How, why the fuck are you in his bed. “I don't typically go into relationships thinking we’re going to be exes.”
“I never thought we’d even be together.” You whisper the confession. Sometimes, she creeps through, who you were ten years ago. Insecure and unsure of everything when the answers are right on display for you. Javier's body is much closer to you this time, sneaking his chin on your shoulder. Lips grazing your jaw. It sobers you up, you bring your hand to the back of his head. Cradling him, while he presses slow kisses to your jaw. Lips just as soft. Your eyes flutter shut, “This is such a bad idea.”
“Why?” He gravels out. His adams apple rolling against your shoulder.
“Because we’re going to end up fucking.”
His teeth grazes your neck, “Would that be so bad?” He slows down, nosing your chest, with hands coming to your waist. Like he’s ready to pull you into his lap at any moment.
You don't want him to stop, the way he’s moving is all that you've craved for years. His shirt thin on your skin, he’s all opened mouth–inching toward your peaked nipples through the shirt. Threatening to mouth away at your breast. His large hands move from your waist, up, up to your breasts. Holding the weight of them, palms covering it all, he inspects it like it's his job. He looks up at you through his brows. Your mouth is open, unable to speak. “Huh Andrea?” He teases. A smirk twitching the edges of his mustache.
Your mouth dry, you lick your lips and snap out of it. “We can’t kiss.”
He takes it as a go ahead, and it is. He kneads at your chest, palm grazing against your nipples and causing your legs to part. “Can I touch you like this?” It's husky and mocking, the way he’s already done it without asking. It's pathetic the way you’re allowing all of this to happen before you even have a serious conversation about everything that went down. You nod.
“We can’t kiss–oh.” He lifts the shirt and attaches his wet mouth to your bare breasts. You moan, toes curling. “We can’t fuck.”
“I'm clean.” He mumbles against your breasts.
“Me too-that's not why–Javi…” Your breath catches in your throat when his free hand grabs a handful of your inner thigh. He’s like a starved man, you, a delicious meal out in front of him, prepared for devouring. Your hand comes to cover his. Moving with him while he moves up the inside of your thigh.
“Why not?” The both of you are staring at your hands conjoined, slipping dangerously close to the gusset of your panties. His eyes flick up to you but your mouth is agape and distracted by the closeness of him, about how he smells the same, how everything feels like before. Why is it so easy to fall back into him, why was it so hard to resist.
Because it’s too much, I’ll tell you I love you again. I’ll never leave. I will never let you leave. His pointer finger grazes then slips in between your panties and your cunt. You were destined to fail your attempt at self preservation. “Just…” You lean back fully and you can feel him heat up beside you. “Just touch me, make me forget.” You whisper. Legs spreading he takes his place, on his knees in the space you’ve made. His hands make no hesitation, he grips at your simple cotton fabric and pulls them off swiftly. He stares, hands on your knees. Eyes hooded and his length hardening before your eyes. Licking his lips, his brows furrow.
“Que quieres olvidar?” It comes out low, whispered and strained. He knows that this means more than just two horny exes rekindling for a night. He knows this comes with years of pain, and bliss and confusion. Slightly toxic, beautifully romantic. He knows this could never be just two people having casual sex, he ignores it anyway and so do you.
You shut your eyes for a moment
“Summer.”
Is all you can think of. It answers everything. Javier’s jaw tightens, you watch the word take meaning in his brain and he nods. Good thing we have all other seasons, he thinks out loud, beyond a whisper. You know he’s your one and only. He leans forward and flips his green shirt up the slightest. He presses two wet kisses to your belly and whispers words unheard before inching his lips right where he’s needed most. His bottom lip ghosts over your clit and your stomach pits. He cuts through his breath with his hot and heavy tongue flicking you. “Mnm” It’s one touch and you're reduced to whimpers of jumbled letters. His pretty lips kissing and sucking at your bare cunt.
“Still…” He grunts, before licking again from your pulsing hole up to your clit that's doing just the same. “Still taste so good.” His southern drawl that he loved to hide creeps up in moments like this. Moments when your face is flush and your chin is quivering from pleasure and agony. Your legs are spread wide and you feel your bruised and cut knee sting but your senses are overloaded so the pain is close to non-existence. You squirm and he murmurs, stay fucking still, before swinging your good leg over his shoulder and continue his feast.
His hot mouth moves to your labia, sucking just to make noise, and back to your cunt that's weeping for him to just put a little bit of him in. But no Andrea-no. You're making such a mess of his face you feel slightly sheepish. His eyes are closed and he’s in his element between your legs. Chin quivering, you want to hold him, he’s reminding you that sex is fucked if its not with him. Your hands fly to the mess of hair on his head. Tugging and moving him, you sit up slightly. Finding him rutting his hips against the bed below him and you feel for him. Your hands slip from the back of his head down to his broad back, taking advantage of the width of him. The hand that found its place holding your thighs in place reaches to your sensitive knot of nerves.
Thumbing you and your body drops back down on the bed. Desperate to scream and moan his name, your shaky hand grabs a pillow from next to you. You stuff your face, and weep against it. “Javi–I’m going to come– oh god please.”
His moan vibrates against your core and he drives. Sloppy and rushed, he rubs you out while his tongue fucks you. On the silent Christmas night you whimper against a bitten pillow while Javier makes out with your pussy. “You're so close baby– did this pretty little cunt miss me?”
“It did–no one compares–oh!” You shriek but it's muffled. He lets your other leg go and slips two fingers inside of your unexpecting cunt. He’s relentless, finger fucking you knuckle deep while his tongues makes its deft movements against and it was enough. You're gushing all over his hands, he moans at the sight, smiling at the way you writhe and hold the pillow against your made up face. Hips twitching while he coaxes you with kisses on your stomach. “Easy…” He holds your belly with the wet hand, settling your twitching form down. You always come this way when it's him, embarrassing to you when you come down, completely out of control of your body for a few seconds. You toss the pillow, white with black streaks of your mascara.
He’s kissing you all over, lifting your shirt– his shirt, kissing your hip bone, kissing below your breasts, your neck, your jaw, your cheek, eyelids and the corner of your mouth.
You lay side by side. Sweating and unsure what happens next. You let the sound of his ceiling fan play out for a moment.
“I thought about you every day.” He speaks and it's gravelly. “Sometimes I’d see something so horrible or embarrassing and think only Andrea would understand– only she would laugh with me.”
Chest rising with a stutter, you're on the verge of a sob. “I pay ten dollars a month for a Colombian newspaper subscription because they have a DEA column.” Suppose it was time to be honest. “Every time I saw a bee I thought of you.”
He chuckles next to you, “C’mere” He whispers and you move immediately. Finding your head on his chest and your arm snaked on his waist. His large palm covers the back of your head. You’re in heaven. Complete bliss. How have you been so strong without him? “I’m not taking time off, I was fired and paid to not expose the DEA.”
You nod against him, not entirely shocked. You never really liked the idea of Javi– Javi, who has so much good to offer- selling his soul to government agencies. It was a selfless thing he did for a selfish system. “I have birds.” You giggle, not having a great follow up. He laughs with you, your cheek vibrating.
“What in the world are we doing?”
You have no fucking clue. But you think you understand him now, the way he wanted all of you before he left for Colombia. The way he seemed selfish to others to keep you wrapped around his finger when he had a flight booked.
Now it's you leaving, you’ve got that flight, you’ve got a life elsewhere, yet you can't help but keep him while you can.
“Being selfish. Or at least I am.”
“No.” His response is quick and cutting. “You can do whatever you want to me. You can leave tomorrow and I’ll be satisfied that you gave me a chance again.”
Your brows furrow and you don’t like that at all. You hate to hear your own thoughts out of his lips. You don't scold him for being honest. “I leave two days after New Year's Day.” It's so dark in the room, still you look up at him when you say and you see his face unmoved.
“Stay here… for the week I mean.” He's desperate, holding onto you. You want to kiss him. “Cancel your hotel, bring your things here. You know this is your home.”
“Okay.” You nod instead, “I will.”
“Good.” He smiles in the dark, his teeth illuminating the perfection that is his face. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good.” He says it to himself.
“Can we keep being honest?”
“Yes. I had a picture you taped to my desk.”
“Must have scared all of your sexy female co-workers away.” You grin.
“Sure did, doing your job from countries away.”
“Hm.” You catalog all that he has missed in your head, thinking what to tell him next. “Do you know Whitney Houston?”
“Eh.”
“Well…the week after we broke up. When Lorraine was staying with you, I listened to ‘Saving All My Love For You’ and cried like every day.”
“Andrea…” He groans teasingly like you’re hurting him. “What was the song about?”
You burn bright red, “Being the other woman…”
“Oh please.” He grunts, holding you tight against him. You almost forget you're completely bare from the waist down. “No seas tan ridícula” He mutters against your head while kissing you aggressively there.
“Let's just sleep before I embarrass myself some more please!”
“Mmm good idea. I was close to telling about jerking off in a storage closet because someone smelled like you.”
Your mouth drops wide and you slap his chest, “Javi!”
“All right I’ll save it for a less… holy day.”
Right, good ol’ JC’s B-day.
“Fuck… I was making a mess of your bed on our lord's day.”
He shrugs. It’s so easy to just fall back into everything when it’s him. Like four years haven’t passed.
“Well, consider it a Christmas gift.”
You chuckle, “Well Merry fucking Christmas.”
“Maybe I do know how to be your friend in the winter Andrea.”
It's a whisper, like a prayer.
#ao3#fanfic#hemmy’s recs#so many thots#narcos#pedro pascal characters#agent peña#comment reply#narcos fanfiction#fic!rlw#running like water#javier peña narcos#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fanfic#melissa diaz is a piece of shit
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I will say that, as someone who takes care of an 8 year old, it is pretty hilarious to think about Dick fighting crime so young. Like there's just packs of animal crackers in the batmobile because Dick will get hungry during the middle of a case. And god forbid Bruce forgets to pack a water bottle for Dick because then he'll just hear a litany of, "I'm thirsty, I need water." I mean, I know Dick is usually depicted as more mature/responsible than your average kid, but it's so funny to think about Bruce and Alfred having to deal with some of those typical kid needs and behaviors.
#let's be real--between bruce and alfred--forgetting a water bottle would not be an issue#but still idk maybe dick runs out and so bruce has to be like SIIIGHHHH and stop at mcdonalds to buy him more water#Dick Grayson
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funniest thing about pvp civilization to me is how it keeps referencing the stupid parts of parkour civilization. here is an incomplete list of things that i remember that are funny.
evbo asks someone how you know when you're friends with someone and they respond "well you should learn their name, for a start", at which point he realizes he hasn't learned The Woman's name yet
someone points out that evbo has a nametag. funniest shit ever.
his internal monologues are actually external like 50% of the time and everyone is just like "dude will you shut up"
evbo doing parkour between trees while he and tabi (but mostly tabi) try to come up with their whole Saving The World plan
that is not everything but it is everything i have the brainpower to remember
#also something about water buckets#idk i think the parkciv references are silly#honorable mention to tabi's series of minecraft but jumping is banned#where she encounters a parkour course and is like#i need someone who can do parkour!#and then there's a 5 minute montage of her running back to their village to get evbo#because she has a feeling he can do it#that was good shit.#that series was so funny#parkour civilization#pvp civilization#evbo#tabi
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Okay but it's super interesting how
Din = Power = Ganondorf
Naryu = Wisdom = Zelda
Farore = Courage = Link.
Because Din, in the hylian creation myth, created the physical world. Naryu then created the laws - gravity, time, etc. And Farore finally created life - plants and people.
Din created the body, naryu the mind, Farore the soul.
And the triforce and its wielders so perfectly reflect that.
Ganon is physical power, he is big and intimidating and he breaks things. He is cunning and determined, but that's not what he focuses on. He is might makes right.
Zelda is wisdom and cleverness. She is stall tactics and information and team work. She is a powerful mage with a spine of steel, but that's not how she'll win. She is the pen being mightier than the sword.
Link is courage and persistence. He is the wild card sneaking behind enemy ranks, always moving, plunging into terrifying situations head first. He's a phenomenal fighter with a keen wit, but that's not what will get him through his challenges. He is bravery not being the absence of fear but the triumph over it.
They sit in perfect parallels to each other.
And ganon is reborn through his body - his resurrection is immortality. No matter how low he is cast, as long as he has a body he can claw his way back. He can cling to his power, build it ever higher.
Zelda is reborn through the magic of her bloodline. It's the accumulated knowledge handed down for generations, the unique power she must master, the skills she must develop to survive and get her kingdom out the other side intact. Even her name, the knowledge of herself, is handed down from all the way from the very first. Her ancestors knowledge of her future presence, her stability, is what gives her the edge.
Link is reborn in spirit. He is not bound by flesh or blood. Just like his wanderlust soul he can reappear in any time or place. His variation, his unpredictability, is exactly how he fights. It's what makes him so hard to pin down.
Ganons need to build strength means he can't chase after link. Links impulsiveness means zelda can outwit him. Zeldas stationary predictability means she's an easy target for ganon.
But the other direction?
Fire melts ice, ice redirects lightning, lightning burns fire.
And that's the very essence of the triforce.
#It's little details spread across the games like this that just makes it work so WELL it's SO COOL#They're all great at all parts of the triforce but they CHOOSE to focus on the path most meaningful to them#And that's literally reflected in their unique cycles of reincarnation isn't that just AMAZING#And that's why the team up is so important! If they were all working against each other they'd be locked spinning their wheels#If zelda and ganon teamed up link would immediately die and if link and ganon teamed up zelda would instantly perish#It's the link zelda team up that means ganon is the one who kicks it#Also the elemental thing was cool but they do jump around a bit. Like wind is there half the time#In botk the gerudo have lightning and the goron have fire. Farosh still has lightning tho and dinraal fire#In ss lanaryu was the lightning and faron had water like its all over the place thematically. And that's when it's only 3!#Don't even get me started on the 5/7 lots notankyu#But that's the most common group and it's also thematically accurate#Fire being the only one able to self perpetuate with fuel. Can be banked up again. Ice compresses with time but needs the right environment#Lightning go boom 👍 you can feel the static in the air but you don't know when/where it'll strike and then it's all over#Like fr it's hilarious zelda and ganon are playing the long game and link runs past eats all the pieces and while ganons yelling after him#Zelda checkmates his king. And nobody can prove she wasn't cheating because nobody was looking lmao#Ah the duality of metaphors#ANYWAY isn't that so neat???#Reason no.372 why rhoam was a terrible king he didn't just screw up he did it ✨thematically✨#If link had been allowed to run off and get dirty and if zelda was allowed to study her interest (like post kingdom fall FOR EXAMPLE)#They'd have won (like aoc) but nooooooo. I've already made a post (or 3) about it lmao I'll be quiet now#loz#legend of zelda#botw#triforce#loz link#the legend of zelda#zelda#loz botw#ganondorf#loz ganon
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it is insane how normal i am medicated like. you mean this was an option the whole time. what
#theresbeen some hiccups like the first month i started to realize my work drive was 90% fear based#so ivehad to develop like actual work schedule and discipline thats not just 'everyone will hate me if i dont'#but its been working! now getting stuff done actually... feels.... good?#instead of like throwing water over one fire only to run to the next one#like before nothing was ever satisfying. i was always just running around panicked#now im like. okay this is what i have to get done today. yay! i finished it! now i go to bed. okay now its the next day#the only other thing ive noticed is ive become seemingly like. more. autistic acting.#like i get More fixated on my special interests now. i can think about something for hours straight instead of getting guilty and thinking#'oh im being greedy im being lazy with my time i should be doing something productive'
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I hate the sewers . jpg
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#larian studios#astarion#astarion ancunin#halsin#bg3 halsin#comic#comics#fanart#me browsing my saved clips like 'wait why did i record this one—'#cuts the scene im laughin for solid 5 mins#i feel so bad for astarion it almost looks like he isn't my fav w this treatment kcvvnxovx#'the bank money can wait - we need to pamper astarion now'#hey past me why did u try to switch places w halsin instead of- yknow- tHE GUY YOU PAIRED HIM WITH#prob was bc halsin had more hp to let him step on fire - and also forgetting the water pipe does that#ngl i still don't really understand how to do this part the proper way#like- yeah i know what to do but it's never perfect and always someone will get burned or pushed#plot twist im making better numbers here than twt w bg3 so i'm posting here first while i do a twt detox#my mental health this month is hanging there by two strings and these strings are baldurs gate 3 and hades 2#currently doing my honor run with my rebooted tav'chyon the dracomonk pls wish me luck
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#HEHEHE THEY'RE SO CUTE I LOVE THEMMM#such a shame these scenes are so brief 😭#avatar#avatar 2#the way of water#sully family#jake sully#neytiri#neteyam#kiri#lo'ak#jeytiri#lì'fya leNa'vi#gif#i'm actually not sure whether Jake is meant to be saying “sloa tsyal” (wide wing) or “slotsyal” (stormglider) here#but i thiiiiiink i hear the -a sound in there#i mean i suppose it doesn't REALLY matter; either one would make sense in this context#and the species name “slotsyal” derives from “sloa tsyal” anyways (as I'm sure you could've guessed hrh)#(btw “syu” is not a real word; just the closest I could come to the “whoosh” sound effect he's making with Forest dialect phonetics hrh)#it sounds like he also says something else before Neytiri says “hufwe” but I can't make out what it's supposed to be#cuz the voiceover narration is talking over it -_-;#in the next shot when Neytiri is running around she also says something#sounds like it might be “tysal latsu” meaning roughly “must be a wing”#or perhaps “tsyal atun” meaning “red/orange wing” which would make sense with Kiri's little Toruk toy#but I think there's an S sound in there so idk#again it's hard to tell because the narration is playing over it#SHUT UP NARRATION JAKE I'M TRYING TO HEAR WHAT'S HAPPENING IN THE SCENE 😭#oh well
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U no
TO KISS IN CARS AND DOWNTOWN BARS WAS ALL WE NEEEEEEDEEEEDDDD YOU DREW STARS AROUND MY SCARS BUT NOW IM BLEEEEEEEEDINGGGGGGGGG
#YOU DONT UNDERSTAND#WHEN SHE SAYS#RUNNING LIKE WATER#LEAVING LIKE A FATHER#OMG#cardigan#taylor swift
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Gideon has a whole protocol for when it gets too cold for Kremy. It's just how his brain works. He solved the issue like it was some machine acting up rather than his friend having a natural reaction to the cold.
First and foremost; GET WARM FAST. Whatever the quickest way to get Kremy warm is, that is the first step. Usually this involves wrapping a blanket around both of them so that Gideon can use his own heat to help him.
Secondly; consider how close the next town is. Is it less than an hour and there's no active snow storm? Great, hot foot it to the inn. Are they actively being snowed on and the next town is half a days walk? Find best cover and set up tents, his own fire could only do so much, and it's not worth the risk at that point just to get inside a building.
Thirdly; once in a relatively dry and protected space, remove any wet clothing and replace with comfy, dry jammies. If no wet clothing, removal beyond jacket and hat is unnecessary. Simply place sleepwear near the bed if Kremy wants to change later.
Fourth; alligators are evidently still able to drink during brumation. Grab waterskin and warm it a little. This will help with internal temperatures. AVOID ALCOHOL.
If all is well, simply prepare for bed. Grab a snack to assure internal fire keeps going all night. Ideal sleeping situation has Kremy on top of Gideon to avoid cold floors if they are in a tent, otherwise just having his arms around him in any other position.
There's only been one time when any other steps were needed. Thankfully they had the rest of the Krew by that point, so Gricko was able to assist, but Gideon really hopes he'll never have to do CPR again.
#mostly similar steps to hypothermia but you know#kremy's reptile brain 'mmm warmmm spot. sleepytime' vs kremy's conman brain 'if i don't do 300 tasks today I'll die idc if im cold'#i imagine lizardfolk have an altered version of brumation that is more watered down since they are humanoid#they dont need to sleep thru winter but they are generally tired all day and eat less meals#now REALLY cold temps cause them to actually get lethargic and even lose motor functions really quick#so its still not a good idea to be running around but like. they can. a little.#once upon a witchlight#legends of avantris#ouaw#text#this is a true fact#kremy lecroux#gideon coal#my own hc#...#coalecroux#sorry about the last line btw
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Kingdom Hearts Union χ - Dwarf Woodlands
#kingdom hearts union x#khux#dwarf woodlands#scenery#my gif#i'll be tagging all my union x posts as 'my gif' but they'll all be pngs due to the lack of access i have to the actual game#i'm only able to work with backgrounds that were provided by people who were able to archive these things#so of course that might limit certain aspects of the visuals. like if there's a separate asset for fire or running water then-#those moving parts wont be present#but that's okay. as long as i can showcase the overall world and its artwork then i'm happy#because the paintings are really well made#they fit union x's simplistic art style while still providing a lot of depth and detail
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“It’s gross if Katara marries Zuko since he’s her colonizer” she overthrew the last Fire Lord to put Zuko on the throne. If anything the Fire Nation would be worried that he’s Katara’s puppet
#“Katara and Zuko are like Pocahontas and John Smith” yeah if Pocahontas toppled the British Empire and made John Smith run it#Trivia: the episode The Puppetmaster foreshadows the geopolitical conflict stemming from the paranoia that Fire Lord Zuko is a puppet king#Especially since palace servants can confirm that he is a simp for Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe#Tbh installing a ruler in line w your interests is actually a classic colonialism move so she reverse UNO’ed the whole situation#Zutara#pro zutara#anti anti zutara#fire lady katara#ATLA colonization discourse
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