#while i was high on a lot of codeine
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I encountered a drug called "Dextromethorphan" when looking up things that react with grapefruits for a fic. I found out it's been banned in Sweden since the 90s, so I couldn't use it for this specific story, but if you've got any interesting history I'd be happy so know!
Are you ready for this? Like. Ask yourself. Are you really ready for this?
In 1954, a researcher with the US Public Health Service received $282,215 (1954 dollars) from the US Navy, ostensibly to find a non-addictive alternative to an opiate drug called codeine (used for pain and and as a cough suppressant).
So the researcher found a bunch of people who had substance abuse disorder and tested 800 substances on them, trying to find ones that couldn't cause physical or psychological dependence, even on people who were prone to that sort of thing.
(Now, you might be asking if this experiment was ethical. The USPHS was concurrently doing the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Study, so while I couldn't find any concrete answer, imma guess no.)
Out of these 800 tested substances, we use 3 today: propoxyphene (used as a painkiller), diphenoxylate (used as a diarrhea medication), and dextromethophan (a cough suppressant (and, as of 2022, part of a fast-acting antidepressant)).
Importantly, it was later noted that all of these are addictive substances and today most of them require a prescription. Though depending on where you are in the world, you might just have to be over 21 and show an ID.
You might think this sounds like a pretty standard story.
You would be wrong.
Because while the US Navy was the one handing the money to the USPHS, the US Navy had come by it via the Central Intelligence Agency.
Yes. The good ol' CIA.
So what stake did the CIA have in a non-addictive codeine replacement? Nothing, it turns out. That's just what they'd told the US Navy. What they really wanted was an incapacitant- a drug that causes incapacitation like unconsciousness or continuous hallucinations- without killing. Incapacitants are also useful for discrediting prominent political figures by making them look like they have severe mental health concerns, which was another reason the CIA wanted them.
This was part of a project called MKPILOT.
And wouldn't you like to know which of the three listed above they liked the most? Dextromethorphan. Because at high doses it causes severe- and incapacitating- hallucinations (this is also why it is banned in Sweden).
The problem with it is that it requires really, really high doses (about 3 grams, which would have to be packaged in some other substrate)- this would make it difficult to slip into a drink or food.
(It should be noted that around the same time, the US Army was doing research into a much more usable incapacitant called 3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate which required as little as 150mg of the substance to be useful- it was featured in a MacGyver episode and I did a nice little review of it here. While I have no sources that say the CIA was directly involved in funding this, based on their extensive funding of similar DoD projects at the time, they probably did.)
But you wanted to know about how grapefruit interacts with dextromethorphan:
A substance in grapefruit (along with seville oranges, limes, pomelos, and possibly pomegranates) blocks the pathway by which many drugs are metabolized in the liver. This causes the levels of drug in the body to be much higher than expected. In the case of dextromethorphan in particular, it can mean that the drug stays in the body a lot longer- up to 24 hours instead of the usual 3-4 hours. It can also make side effects and toxic effects significantly worse, leading to hallucinations and sedation, even at low doses normally used for coughing.
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Hello, I appreciate your medical posts very much and having seen a post the other day where you said migraine was in your areas of special interest, I'd love to ask a related question. You talk about bodies and medicine and patient experience etc in a way that makes a lot of sense to me and I'd trust your take.
I have chronic migraine. I'm currently at 100% pain days, with varying severity. Very hard to pin down what is prodrome, the main event, and postdrome as it's all blurred into one. My migraine team want me to reduce painkiller usage (currently dihydrocodeine and paracetamol daily, and ibuprofen maybe every other day on top) due to rebound headache. I want to cut down because they're fucking expensive and I'm scared for my liver and kidneys. But I literally can't cope with life without them. I went off them for four months a few years ago and the pain was so severe and so debilitating I was the most suicidal I've been in my life. Without painkillers I can't get to the toilet unaided, rarely leave bed, even more rare to leave the house. It's hell. And that's not even considering the effects on everyone around me who has to pick up to care for me.
So what do I do? The way I see things, I need something to help the pain improve before I can use less painkillers, but the longer I go on trying to find something that works and not getting there, the more I think maybe I'm wrong in that. I know a bit about how codeine based painkillers can reduce your pain tolerance / pain baseline. I don't think it's an addiction issue because I've been at the same (over the counter) dosages for 4 years now. I just want to do all that I can to be better, but I also need to be alive to be better. I am stuck.
TL;DR - If you have any thoughts on the relationship between chronic migraine, painkiller use, preserving quality of life while finding a treatment, and increasing the chances of a treatment working, and where on earth the balance between all that lies, I'd really like to hear them.
Again, I absolutely appreciate if you can't answer this, don't want to etc. Giving advice online is notoriously tricky and all that. But a big thank you for your time in reading, and all your weight and exercise posts especially which make me feel so much better about my body. Wishing you all good things! 💖
I won't speak to your case directly, since I'm not your doctor, but here is my personal algorithm for escalating treatments for migraine (note that "abortives" in this case means something you take after a migraine starts to try to end it, while "prophylactic" means a daily treatment you take to reduce likelihood of developing a migraine):
-OTC combination of magnesium, feverfew, and butterbur, taken daily
-Triptans (insurance will usually demand patients fail at least 3 to cover a more expensive treatment)
-High-dose NSAIDs (as abortive treatment given risk of rebound headaches if used daily)
-Daily topiramate (insurance will always demand this is either failed or there's a clear contraindication)
-Daily calcium channel blockers
-Daily beta blockers (higher dose than used for anxiety or low-grade arrhythmias)
-Daily anti-epileptic medications (such as Lamictal)
-Monthly anti-CGRP monoclonal antibody injections (Aimovig or Ajovy; expensive so insurance will demand you've failed some or all of the previous meds)
-Abortive anti-CGRP orals (Nurtec or Ubrelvy)
-Abortive ergotamine, usually Migranal, a nasal spray (very expensive and must be repeated 15 minutes after initial dose regardless of whether symptoms are improving or not)
-Prophylactic Botox (I believe this is every 3 months, must be done in the office of a trained and licensed professional, usually but not always a Neurology provider)
-Sphenopalatine ganglion blocks (done by dripping lidocaine far back into the sinuses to reach the sphenopalatine ganglion, again in the office of a trained and licensed professional)
-Cephaly (transcranial magnetic stimulation at-home device), expensive so insurance hates covering it
Now, one of my newer tools, and my current personal favorite, is a greater occipital nerve block--easy and fast, low risk, and I've had about 90% success with my patients in aborting current headaches. Effects seem to last 3-4 weeks in most cases and since it's straight lidocaine (you don't have to include steroids, though you can) you can do it as often as needed. I generally do this in my office, but I did train one patient's spouse to do it at home given how frequent their headaches. The pharmacy lost their fucking mind about letting an outpatient have lidocaine. I don't know why.
I currently manage my pretty awful chronic migraines with a combination of monthly Aimovig, as-needed Excedrin (the combination of caffeine, Tylenol aka paracetamol, and aspirin is effective for many people but is a real risk for causing medication overuse headaches, the more official term for bounce-back), as-needed Ubrelvy (I can sleep after taking Ubrelvy but not Excedrin so it's a good option), and roughly monthly greater occipital nerve blocks (I teach my trainees to do it using myself as a subject). I wouldn't mind trying the Botox but it's a PITA to get in to see our only local Neurology provider and since my migraines are relatively well-controlled (probably 1-2 headache days a week right now) I don't think it's worth the effort.
I also really got a lot out of this lecture, so give it a try.
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Running Like Water
Chapter 21
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: 9.4k
a/n: Whoa haven't seen you guys since last year... LOL. This is very angst filled, sadly its our last vacation chapter. Back to reality but Javier and Andrea try some new... stuff... this chapter 🍑. If it isn't your thing thats okay!
But (no pun intended) on a less sexy note, Andrea meets some family this chapter.
Sorry for the wait was busy this month having a winter break fling (that's so like me) but back to reality.
Thank you for being so patient with me always.
This is for @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

The two of you leave the studio shortly after Edmond threatened to wring Javier’s neck for the first date joke, well it is our first date. Before that though you were honestly eager to get out of the place, you needed him back in the hotel room, you needed to thank him with your mouth, with the warmth pooling on the tiny thong under your skirt. While Javi explains to Edmond that you are indeed the girl he had vented about when they first met, usually this would have made you a blushing mess but you were practically squirming in the stool. Your earrings catching the light casting a red reflection against the wall. Your eyes follow the light around the room as the two spoke, your mind drifting in places that could only be described as filthy. Edmond jokes that it had all worked out in the end, it took you a moment to catch up with their jokes. You had disassociated but Javier picked up on it and ushered the two of you out of the studio and back out into the Louisiana heat.
“I have dinner reservations so behave.” He whispers before grabbing your hand in a sweet possessive hold. Your brows quirk slightly before leaning into him completely. He seemed to be hyper focused on getting the two of you to the proper place at the right time because his eyes went all squinted while he walked you through the busy sidewalks.
“I am behaving.” You were, sure, maybe it was a bit rude of you to look around the room aimlessly while Javier caught up with his old pal, but you truly didn't mean to. There was something about girls like you, girls who craved to be wanted–once you get a taste–insatiable is the only word to describe you. So insatiable that you couldnt give a fuck about a dinner date with Javier Peña, it was so like you. So like you to feel so overwhelmed with love, a feeling so foreign, so strong that now you can't think of anything else but the thought of him inside of you. Good lord you were soaking.
His cheeks were still red, either from tears or the high sun. Regardless he looks down at you with a teasing smirk that quickly hardens and turns into a disapproving head shake. “I saw you out of the corner of my eye, querida. Wiggling around in that stool.” He says in hush tones, you break eye contact in slight embarrassment. You know that annoys him, when you shy away because you feel his body stiffen. Poor Javi, you think. One day he’ll understand you fully, he knows you better than anyone else but he still isn't used to your self-destructive tendencies of self-manipulation and constantly wondering whether he truly likes you. And despite today being the greatest testament of his devotion for you there was still that part of you that was a girl without a father. How humiliating? You also know he is never truly upset with you, even when he stands up straight and huffs a breath, it's always followed by silence, his space to try to figure you out.
There's a lot to learn, six years apart is too much for anyone. You've become four different people in these six years.
By the time the two of you entered the warmly lit restaurant you've given your brain some time to think of meeting your grandmother tomorrow, now thats a thought to have you quit squirming. The desire you felt so heavily only half an hour before left in an instant at the thought of what's to come tomorrow. As you settle in your seat the thought of your father not being alive crosses your mind, instinctively you touch the bee earrings softly.
You feel Javi watching you with intent, a small frown on his lips as he adjusts his belt buckle while he sits. If your stomach wasn't doing turns from impending doom you would have made a big dick joke, you suddenly didn’t have it in you. You quit touching the earrings and let out a shaky breath before grabbing the menu.
“What’s wrong Andrea?” He asks, stern, almost like it's a statement. Like nothing is not an answer he’ll accept. He knows something is wrong.
“I’m really nervous for tomorrow.” You admit without any tooth pulling. Uncrossing your legs beneath the table, Javi nods firmly he knew how to react to you when you admitted things like this. There's nothing you hated more than someone screwing their brows in concern and pity, he never did that. He just nodded, solid, dependable and able to listen. He doesn't respond so you continue. Brushing a piece of hair from your face you sip the water given. “I also don’t want this weekend to end. I don’t want to go back. I especially don’t want to go back if tomorrow goes bad, I don’t have it in me to explain that to my mother.” There it was, that other part. The sheer embarrassment that could be awaiting you, the possibility of being humiliated by your paternal family and coming home to a mother that will look at your tear stained cheeks and say, I told you so.
Javi clenches his jaw at the slight shake in your voice, and it’s so like him. He puts his large hand palm up at the small table between you two. Your heart grows in your chest and without hesitation you place your own small hand over his. Manicured nails circling the dry lines there, his thumb rises and wedges between two fingers tickling you a spot you never knew tickled. You choke out a giggle and dug your nails into his palm, he winces in fake pain. Ow, he grumbles. You take his hand entirely and lifts it to your face, pressing a kiss to his palm. He smiles, his dimples deepening and his eyes crinkling. “Sorry.” You say and kiss his palm again, “Sorry for attacking you with my nails even though you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world today.”
He shakes his head in a shy little act, wow, you wanted to jump his bones again. “It’s okay I like it when you’re rough.”
“Oh shut up.” You laugh, pressing his palm to your cheek before placing it back down on the table. “And I’m sorry for ruining the mood with my sulking.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Javier furrowed his brow in disapproval, “If tomorrow doesn’t go the way you plan I’ll extend our weekend, give you time to recover here. Don’t care if it’ll be obvious to everyone that we’re together, we’ll figure it out.”
Your lips quirk in a satisfied smile, you’ll take it. You were minutes away from suggesting the two of you stay in New Orleans until the damn wedding Saturday. The two of you were so in love it was hard to be logical. Hiding your face a smidge as you lift the menu to cover your crimson cheeks. “Okay, that's fine with me.”

“God I wish I knew she was that mean to you–I’m like regretting being her friend a little bit.” You were slurping down pasta with a frown, hearing stories from high school about Lorraine. The more he uncovered, the more you regret giving her grace. Every new piece of information was followed with Javier’s attempt to excuse it. You suppose the both of you have some things to learn, you wanted to tell him that her actions and his faults were not in the slightest bit comparable. Like;
On valentine's day she got drunk and purposefully poured wine on my favorite sweater in front of all my friends. But she was mad because I skipped sunday mass with her family the week before.
Or,
I was really upset with her cheating, but she blamed it on the time I called you pretty in front of her. I guess to her that was emotionally cheating.
You sat in front of him with your mouth agape, or you cursed under your breath before shutting yourself up with carbs. “None of that is normal, you shouldn't make excuses for that sort of behavior. I doubt she does when she complains about you to other people.” You say while dabbing the corners of your lips free of marinara.
He laughs and nods in agreement, “You're right, I want to be the bigger person though. No need to be upset on my behalf querida.”
The 2nd glass of wine gets to you slightly as you roll your eyes aggressively, feeling awfully protective of your boyfriend. You remember which sweater it was, it was the white knitted one he wore to his last christmas at home, he would wear that thing to every holiday. “Whatever, god forbid I feel defensive over my man.” You whisper and bring your glass to your tinted lips. Javier’s lips quirk at its corners, you know he loved hearing that come from your mouth. You noticed it just thirty minutes prior when you told the waiter, my boyfriend would like the same. You picked up on the way he shifted in his seat when you called him baby. For the past 10 minutes you had been slipping the pet names slowly and scattered, he was getting worked up. Look who needs to behave now.
“Hmm.” He huffs, annoyed, turned on, grumpy and everything else.
You bite back a tipsy smile, slipping your pointed heel up his calf slowly, until the outsole skated his inner thigh. He shakes his head and looks to you through a half lidded gaze. “Relax.” His voice deep and striking, loud enough for the other patrons to hear. You nod in agreement and attempt to move your foot back down but before you could make the effort his hand falls between his spread legs and holds your delicate foot in place on his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat, your leg pulled so still your skirt rides up. Saving yourself from the breeze, your left leg tightens to cover the soaked fabric now exposed.
With his right hand holding your heeled foot and his left hand on the table, he grabs his glass and continues at his drink. Your breath is hitched in your throat, you feel his stare. His eyes glued to your chest, your nipples pebbled under the fabric. You don’t listen to his demand, incorrigibly you lean forward releasing some tension with the press of your legs and the hip movement required for you to move closer. “Why are you being so mean?”
His eyes narrow, “Mean? A weekend getaway, museum date and those pretty earrings.” He teases and you nearly laugh, nearly, truthfully you were so turned on you couldn’t care to play these games. You’ve had years to do that. You survey the restaurant, there had only been about ten tables and each paired with a couple or a group of men in suits. Your eyes dart to the family bathroom, Javier follows your line of sight with a smirk. No families, you note. Less guilt for what you’re about to do.
You drop your heel from his hold and wipe the corners of your mouth, “Well, you’ve spoiled me Javi.” You shrug, adjusting your small cardigan to cover your pointed nipples. He laughs a hearty chuckle. Your face falls to straight seriousness, hair readjusted. His nostrils flare at your hardened look.
“Rotten.”
Your eyes shrink with a slight hint of petulance. Like a little girl not getting her way, absolutely not. Eyes scanning the room once more, “Well if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to take care of myself in the bathroom.” You huff before rising to your feet. Feeling the table to your right shooting a glance at your figure. With a strut of false confidence, your knees were buckling with fear he won’t follow you and just think you’re upset with him. It’s the last message you want to get across after he poured his aching soul to you at the gallery.

Javier watches you walk to the bathroom and close the door behind you. Well he watches to make sure no one else was watching because the pencil skirt you decided to wear curved perfectly below your ass, making it apparent to everyone that your behind was a tight little thing. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he waits a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose.
He knows you, he knows you’ve been pent up since the gallery, since he put those earrings on you. How could he not know, you practically screwed your brows in bliss every time he took a look at you. Truthfully on their walk to the restaurant he was still reeling from the entire first date thing, he had never lost his composure like that—to cry in front of someone— to cry in front of you. He’d be a lying dog if it didn’t scare the living shit out of him. So scared that he nearly thought about just saying fuck it and getting down on one knee and proposing to you with some fucking earrings.
He knew it before. He knows it now that what you too have is forever, beyond time and circumstance, there was no way you two could live a life with other people. What a discovery to make on a first date.
Anyway those feelings of sheer terror and love, they’re the same in his head, were quickly replaced with every tiny possessive nickname you let leave your red bitten lips. He was fully hard by the time you decided to play footsie with him, he wondered if you felt the strain against his pants through your heels. He decided he was going to fuck you into the mattress when the two of you got back to the hotel but he supposes you had different plans.
His eyes glued to his glass he picks it up and downs it. “Fuck it.” He murmurs before wiping his mustache, adjusting his shirt and heading for a straight bee line for the bathroom.
You smile softly at him through the mirror, “I was starting to think you didn’t get the memo.” Javi nods, his mind set. Silent and brooding behind you. Your confidence seemed to have faded with each passing minute he contemplated whether to follow you or not. “I was afraid you thought I was really upset-Oh Javi.” You shriek the second he tosses your skirt over your ass. Instinctually bending a bit over the sink. Dropping to his knees, his dirty thoughts win as he slightly sinks his teeth into your tan behind. You giggle at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn’t care what it would look like to anyone else. He was a man utterly in love with his girlfriend, and with how soft her ass was.
Javier kisses each cheek of hers and laces each kiss with a bite then a firm tug. Kneading and kisses, his large palms have finally found something that he didn’t completely engulf. Why was it so sexy when his hand covered your entire breast yet even sexier that your ass finally dwarfs him? He’s never been a man above worship, above religion, still he had never believed in a god so clear, so real until he came home and had you. Was it normal to be this enthralled by a partner? Was it just the honeymoon? He really couldn't care anymore about those questions because god, Andrea, he murmurs like a prayer.
With your skirt piled at your hips, the tiny little red thong was fair game for his needy kisses. His teeth graze the string that just barely covered the one part of you that’s untouched, you buck as his fingers spread you open, the loose string falling to the side to expose you there. “Anyone ever touch you here?” He asks with his left hand holding you open, and his right thumb skimming so close. He knows the answer. He wants to hear it. You screw your eyes shut, a small whimper escapes your parted lip. Your heels slip on the tile, he lets up his left hand to hold you steady.
Tossing your hair over one shoulder and attempting to look back at him you whisper, “Never—I want to try but-”
But I’m not sure I want that sort of first time to be in a restaurant bathroom. You think.
He knows exactly what you mean, he knows how delicate this part of sex could be, he knew it's a lot more than a heat of the moment decision. He’d never, not in a place like this. Though, he had other ideas, “Another time, can I taste you here at least.” He taps at your cunt and you eagerly reach behind and slide your panties to the side. Javi smiles when he’s met with his girlfriend’s swollen cunt just for him. Good lord, he did not want to think about having to sneak around again. For the two of you to be limited beyond your control the second you step home. He wondered why he couldn’t just rent a home out here just for the two of you, just until he leaves. Will they be reduced once again to just twice a week, all pent up and hand-covering mouth sex in his bed. He tried not to think, tried.
One thing the two of you have grown fond of is him eating you out from behind. This position was just like the second time, in his room on memorial day. You look over your shoulder, the cardigan slipped low to expose the tan shoulder of yours. With lidded eyes you stare into Javier’s soul as you reach your hand between his face and your bent form. With a shy blush your delicate fingers run across the seam of your cunt and slowly up to skim the tight hole that's been the object of Javier’s deepest fantasies.
“You can taste here too.” You quip, you weren’t sure if people even did that. You could be making a fool out of yourself but you knew after his fingers got close to your asshole, you felt a new pit in your belly. Javier’s eyes raised and he suddenly felt like a kid in a candy store. Never in a million years did he ever imagine a world where you agreed to something like this. He mumbles deeply, Jesus Christ. You didn’t have to tell him twice.
He plunged his face into your cunt first, quicker and less teasing this time, they were in a public bathroom for crying out loud. His licks and sucks are wet and aggressive. His head shaking in between. You drop your head into your chest and the slow build of release. If he kept up this pace you’ll be writhing in climax in thirty more seconds. You're not sure you were ready for the moment he proceeds to eat you out just there. For a moment you wonder if this is really something people do during sex, you’ve had girl friends who have tried anal but none of them ever mentioned their boyfriends eating them out there. You wonder if you're the first people to ever do this- or it’ll feel good at all. You surely weren’t ready, the second his heavy tongue slid up to your place untouched, and you weren’t expecting such a feeling.
You shrieked loud enough for the guests to hear. Javier’s heart sank and paused for a second while you covered your mouth.
“I’m sorry-I’m sorry.”
Javier’s brows tensed, “Is it too much?” He asks lowly, looking up at the back of your head. You screw your eyes shut, and nod.
“No-I just didn’t expect for it to feel so good.” You whisper as if to do damage control for the shriek you let out, with your head dropped in shame you feel his chuckle between your cheeks. Okay, he laughs and continues again. You’re more prepared this time–yeah you two definitely aren't the firsts to discover eating ass. This has got to be popular.
His head moving skillfully, his chin skimming your cunt along with it. Shaking his head and devouring you whole. And oh, it was a feeling so good you were afraid to know what it would feel like if he applied more pressure than a tongue back there. You never saw the appeal in anything to do with anal—suddenly—you suppose it takes the right person. You always told yourself you’d never try any of that unless you were married or something— well close enough. Your knuckles go white gripping the porcelain tops. He parts for a second and spits directly on your ass, parting you to watch it slide down onto your cunt.
“You like being a dirty girl? Yeah, Andrea?” he gets close again to clean up his mess and good gracious you were close. “Letting me eat your ass like this? Used to think you were so shy—now look at what you’re letting me do to you.” He dives in again, this time reaching his entire body leans with it. His hands gripping the tops of your thighs while he moves from your cunt to your ass and back-and back again.
Your forehead presses against the mirror and you catch your own eyes for a moment and you’re absolutely disgusted by the sight. Disgusted in the best way possible. You are filthy, you love it—you loved this. You bend further to give him better access to your clit and you’re a goner. Your ears ring and you fall limp but like always he never lets you fall. He’s at his feet again, pressing your knees together. He unbuckles himself and relieves his aching cock from their confinement. You open your mouth to tell him to put it in but he speaks first.
“I’m gonna come, just let me—fuck.” He grabs himself and fists himself over your bent body. “Let me fuck your thighs really quick—please princesa, let me—” He grits and you bite your lips at the thought. Your heart skips a beat or a few, so many firsts. Why is the thought so enticing?
Okay—please, you murmur and without hesitation he drags his cock between your folds, collecting slip before thrusting. He wipes his eye as an attempt to readjust his blurry mind. The post orgasm clarity will hit him soon, it didn’t matter now he was too pent up to care. He humps you from behind, his length squeezed by your thighs and his tip nudging your overstimulated clit. There was something depraved about the action, being used in this way. Being used and loving the way it feels.
And he’s driving fast, pre-cum spreading at the tops of your thighs. How he made sex so enjoyable was beyond you, all you could do is softly sigh and moan, nearly drooling from your mouth falling open. “Javi please– I-” Perhaps your moans were a bit too loud because his hand snakes up to your mouth, effectively muzzling you. You babble incoherent begs and moans into his dry palm, while his other hand death gripped your hips for stability. It didn’t take many thrusts for you to be coming again, his hand on your hip quickly snaked to hold your thighs tighter against him and with that he finished over the tops of your thighs, painting you perfectly. His own little art piece.
There’s a ringing silence for a moment as he slips out from behind you. You catch your breath, wiping your tears away. Head heavy, too frazzled to adjust to the situation. Javier just ate your ass out in a restaurant bathroom and fucked your thighs. And you came twice in ten minutes. Jesus take the fucking wheel.
“I-I’m sorry I’ve never done anything like that before.” You almost expect for those words to come from your mouth but it aches all the same coming from his. You turn around to him, knowing the sight is probably ridiculous, tear stained cheeks, a wrap skirt hiked up your legs and his come spread at the tops of your thighs.
Your eyes soften watching him fumble to tuck himself away. You could see his jaw clenched, you knew when his mind was on overdrive. This is one of those moments. Like he’s drafting ways to apologize to you.
“I liked it.” You admit in a whisper.
His brows shoot up and he looks up to you. The color in his face returning, as he fastened his belt. “You did?”
You blush, your eyes falling to your thighs. “I did, we should try more stuff like that… it was… really hot.” You admit, looking up at him through your brow bone. His nostrils flare and he’s nodding.
“Okay.” He nods sternly in the same old grumpy Javi way.
Your lips twist at the silliness of it all. “Okay…”
“Alright.” He’s still staring at your thighs.
You giggle, “Jesus christ Javi! Clean me up!”
He jumps in place, “Right sorry.”

It’s safe to say that the two of you were quite full after the whole restaurant debacle. Frankly your last night should’ve been filled with endless love making but Javier could sense your nerves. After tipsy kisses and stumbling into the room the reality began to set in. You struggled to sleep that night, afraid of waking up to a packed room and a car ride to your grandmother's home. He slipped into the shower with you without any advances, you wouldn't mind it all but he reads you, he washes you without lingering touches and only a few kisses. The two of you find a rhythm, drying off, getting into his shirt and some panties. The two of you exchange stories before bed, who knew he was such a softy like you.
“I’m always nervous before meeting old people.” You admit. Its a stupid quirk of yours but man do the elderly intimidate you. You chose teaching because you knew that dealing with the elderly would be far from that area. “They can be so judgemental and old fashioned, its painful– every conversation.”
Javier strokes his hand against your arm, “You're rambling. It's time for bed baby.”
He was right, you had no need to bring that up, you just really didn't want the day to end. Why is that you were so afraid of the thing you yearned for your entire life?
The morning is quiet and gloomy, it rained the entire night so the sky was all gray clouds with peaking sun. The entire room was packed by the time you sat up to rub your eyes. Your stomach is so uneasy you could only take four bites of the waffles he called in for you, no syrup, just butter and powdered sugar how you like it. He’s quiet too as he folds your clothes. You check out at twelve and load his car again. He kisses your temple before opening the car door for you. You nod a silent thanks before you settle into the car seat. Head leaned against the window. Reaching into the dash board for the map, finger tracing until it stops at the road circled labeled, Andrea’s Grandma, you smile to yourself thinking about Javier at his desk circling and routing a way to her grandmother's home the night before their trip.
With fear of rejection you fiddle with the bee earrings in your ears, grounding yourself with the reminder of Javier even when he's right next to you.
The home was fairly close, only an hour away from the hotel. Javi smokes two cigarettes with the low sound of the road below the tires and slow soul music filling the car. It was then when you realized Javier was nervous too. You think of what he told you at La Belle Forme, about his panic attack. It was rare for silence to exist between them not like this. You kiss his knuckles, a few kisses, you suppose you found solace in comforting him.
When the car slowed down you weren't expecting to be approached with large estates with rolling grass and bald cypress trees casting down like curtains. When Lorena called you pictured an elderly woman in a small home, you never envisioned a large white home attached to other small homes. You looked down at the map. 4289 Coventy Court, “Its the small house, the big one is 4287.” You point, it all seemed to be on the same estate though, you'll still have to walk through this strangers beautiful front lawn in order to get to your grandmothers. Javi nods, shutting the car off. Your hands drop to play with the ripped ends of the map.
His palm comes over to your lap and grabs at your fidgeting hands, his hands always cold and dry and large. “¿Estás segura de que estás lista?” He asks so softly, he did that often, reassuring you in spanish. You inhale deeply, looking at your connected hands and then to the house peeking behind the large trees. You nod.
And there it is, right In front of you— a physical manifestation of the answers you’ve prayed to hear. Everything you've ever wanted to know. It could split you completely, could kill you, but it could free you. A small part of you hopes it splits your heart in two so that you're prepared for heartache in November at the hands of the DEA. Who knew Javier could hurt you more than your father? When did you give him that power, you suppose it’s when you realized it was love.
The two of you climb out of the truck and make your way through the cobblestone path, “I’m not going to get shot out here right?” Javi whispers and you cant even itch out a giggle from the coil of nerves in your chest, he doesn’t joke anymore. He trails behind you while you lead the way, like you know where to go— you haven’t had a fucking clue. With every tap of your sneakers on the ground you felt panic rise higher in your throat.
You could feel Javier behind you, keeping his steps slower than your own. Giving you space you weren’t sure you wanted. You appreciated it nonetheless. Like he was ready to run and get the car if anything hurts you. He’s 3 steps behind you once you close your eyes shut before knocking on the light blue door. Your eyes surveying the plants lining the white porch. “¡entra!” A distant voice calls from beyond the door and its the same voice from the phone. Something in you bursts, your eyes dart to Javier in fit of panic. Fuck it. You open the door to the home.
The astounding amount of pastels blind you. An entire rolling carpet of white at your feet, Javier holds his arm out before you nervously put your outside shoes inside this museum piece of a home. You saw her too, out of the corner of your eye. Sat in a wheelchair with hair pressed straight down to her hips, with a book in her lap – the sound of birds chirping splitting your ears as you unlace your shoes with shaky hands. Javier seemed to have slipped his shoes in record time because his socked foot took a step inside before he bent down again to grab your shoes and tossed them outside.
Standing up straight the woman in front of you widens her eyes at the sight of you, her smile splitting her face in two and you arent sure if anyone had ever looked at you with such melancholy before. She was a beautiful woman, well kept from what you can see it seemed like she had a lot of help. For once in your life you feel strong, chin up and nearly smiling. Lorena fully smiles and there it is–You can finally pin point where your bright grin comes from. "Ven aquí! Get over here before I try to walk to you!." She shouts with that same accent you remember over the phone and with that you're padding over to your grandmother. Embracing her for the first time. Receiving kisses to the side of your head, and caresses and you don’t feel sad anymore–or nervous. You sat in front of her and Javier stayed in his lane, quiet and observing. His hand on your while she explained how she found your number.
“My greatest friend Griselda moved to Laredo about a year ago. I had been pushing the poor woman to look through the phonebook for your name– I didn't know if you had our last name or hers. Whatever I found it and tried calling but your mother– you already know.”
You sure did, the conversation was what you expected it to be. She attempts to understand what your life has been like this whole time. You tell her your mother owned a boutique and that your brother was on his last week of being a bachelor, she teared up at that. You almost forgot she was around when your brother was just two years old, she laughs when explaining his biting problem. Her eyes fall between the two of you a few times, you and Javier and your joined hands. The way his were in your lap and how your nail grazed the strong tendons of your lovers hands. She kept the questions Andrea central.
Did you end up going to college?
Yes, University of Miami. I’m a middle school teacher.
She laughs and claps her hands together, she tells you taught for thirty six years. Your heart nearly bursts in your chest.
So are you living at home?
For now, yes. I’m looking to move soon.
Do you like your brother's wife to be?
Oh–yeah. She’s been my close friend since I was in middle school.
She nods, turning to her left to grab her cup of tea. There had been two cups left out. She let you in on how she kept the place so tidy, her home nurse Ms. Cristina, who worked for her every day. She points to her bird cage at the corner of the living room which shows the only non-tidy part of the house full of bird seeds on the floor, They also take of me.
“And this–.” She smiled, waving her finger in between you two. “How did you two meet.”
“Oh!” You laugh, Javier cracks a smile. “We-”
“Uh-No. I want to hear his story. Ha estado sentado ahí en completo silencio, habla, hijo.” She cuts you off in the only way elderly people know how, gracefully and silly all at once. Your cheeks burn red. Absolutely intrigued to hear his explanation. His face softens for a moment before he breaks into a deep chuckle. Rubbing his eye in that same nervous tick that he always does.
“Oh–We were just kids when we met.” He was instantly interrupted by a yelp from your grandmother.
“¡Ay, por Dios! Qué romántico. So you two have been together since then?” Perhaps it was rude but immediately you and Javier look at each other and let out a cackle in unison. Leaning into his shoulder as you giggle while your grandma sits confused, wondering what was so funny about her question. “What-What’s so funny?” She says with a hint of humor in her own tone.
Javier shakes his head and replies, “It took us close to a decade to get here.” His eyes flash to yours, soft and gleaming. He looks at you like this often—always, but there’s a different look, something close to pride. Truthfully, he was overjoyed to talk about you to someone, especially to someone who by some crazy phone call and last minute trip—is your family.
Lorena smiles, sipping her tea with a nod. Her eyes floating to something behind you, above your head. You don’t turn to see what has made her eyes misty and youthful for a moment. “Ah.. one of those. I’m familiar, promise you. What is it that you do Javier?”
He straightens up at the question like it shattered the small world he’s created with you. “I’m a DEA agent, I’m assigned in Colombia starting this November.” It was firm, devoid of laughter and pride. Like a soldier being questioned about deployment. Your grandmothers brows screw in sympathy the second he mentions being away, her eyes falling to your own. You tried to be strong but the reminder chips away at your spirit each time. Five months away. Your eyes drop to your knees.
“Ah… I see.” Softly she points her chin high, a necklace falling out of her cashmere sweater with the movement. She nudges behind you, where her eyes fell previously, you and Javier turn slightly. The image of a man in black and white, eyes light and a stern look. Clad in military attire, and a nose so similar to your own. You into the eyes of your grandfather for the first time. How could you have forgotten? You haven't even asked about him, his name–anything. You notice then that the entire hour you have spent in your grandmother's home you hadn't once thought of your father. Something about the eyes in the photo seared you, What if my fathers dead? “Your grandfather was also named Lucas. He was my high school sweetheart but we broke up after he decided to leave me for the war. Listen, I respect our military but–not for him–absolutely not. He was always leaving, estúpido, estúpido. We split when he was apart, it wasn't very easy to be in contact like it is now. But… I didn't wait, I found someone else but mija… the second he stepped foot on american soil we were married and I was pregnant with your father 3 years later.”
Javier placed his hand on your lower back at some point during her story, thumb softly rubbing into your thin t-shirt. Your eyes threatened to betray you. You know why she chooses to tell you this story, you suppose this sort of thing runs in the family. Leaving and watching the ones who leave. “He died before me, that absolute idiot.” She sniffles and shakes her head. You turn back around, facing her–she had already wiped her tears away. And she does it just like you, palm first and hurried. Who knew the sight of your grandmother crying could fill you with such warmth, you suppose you were never emotional in the same way your mother was. You wondered where it came from, you guess you can say you've got it from your grandmother.
“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You choke on your own words and she waves her hand in a its alright but it isn't motion. She grabs her teacup once more, her eyes stuck to yours until her brows shoot up in shock.
“Oh–your father. It's so like me to get wrapped up in myself, I’m sure you have a million questions. I can settle your nerves and tell you that he is very much alive.” She laughs, she really was a kookie old lady. “He also knows that you’re here.”
“What?” You and Javier blurt simultaneously, the two of you leaning in on your knees. For a split second your cheeks heat at the thought of Javier being this invested but that completely flies out the window while your grandmother nods with a smile.
“This is his estate, you think a school teacher could afford all this? His home was the big one right next door. He’s nervous but he is expecting you. I thought I’d give him time to… speak for himself.” She nods and settles her cup down once more. “I’m not trying to kick you out but he’s probably bouncing his knee for the thousandth time over there”

“You’ve gone non-verbal Andrea.” The two of you kissed your grandmother goodbye with promises of a second visit in the next few months, Javier was micro analyzing your every move. How after the bomb was dropped you had frozen in fear and only muttered 4 more words. Her brows furrowed as the two of them approached the back door of her fathers home. Javier knew what this meant, what this all means. He sees what its doing inside of you, your body is rejecting the truth that, A. your father is alive and B. He seems to be doing quite well for himself. Your grandmother gave the two of you instructions like you were on a secret mission.
Go through the back door
Javi, it's best you wait in the hall.
He will most likely be sat in his office, first door on your right.
You just nodded with a knot in your throat. Javier watches you lead the way in silence and it's killing him to know how much this is taking a toll on you already.
You have eaten in on yourself already, absent in the eyes.
He remembered fathers day being a particularly rough day for you during your summers. How you would call Javier’s house but he’d have to explain that he was on his way out fishing with Chucho. He can't think too hard about all of that, he might crumble himself and he had to be strong, he had to be that for you. You step up and look over your shoulder, nearly tripping–Javier catches you at your elbow and you are trembling.
“Sorry, I’m trying to catalog all the questions I have.” You chuckle and there isn't a bit of humor behind it, just nerves and all. “His house is way too nice. This door knob looks like pure gold.” You attempt a joke but Javier can't seem to laugh either. And like the brave girl you are, you don't hesitate this time, you twist the doorknob pushing the door open. Ahead of you was a grandiose hallway, white paneled walls with tiny intricate floral designs.
The door to his office is already in your view, a long ottoman right outside the door like a waiting room. It felt nothing like a home, like a sterile office or a Homes and Gardens spread. Javier selfishly thinks of how their home will look one day, it will never feel this cold, not in the Louisiana heat. He’d settle down with you in Louisiana. He decided this weekend, he’d like to watch you bask in under the cajun sun with a belly.
The two of you stand side by side in front of a door with no imperfections but a carving of the letter L on the wood. Your brows furrow, “Okay.” You exhale, turning to Javier knowing this is where you part, knowing that whatever goes on behind those doors could hurt you in a way he fears he can never fix. So maybe he’s just as scared, he nods silently and firm. Still putting his act up for your sense of security, he knows you can read right through it, he also knows you love that he does this for you.
He can see it on your lips, see the 3 words, the words he knows you tried to spill out twice on this trip. He shakes his head and grabs your face in a chaste kiss. Your hands hold at his shoulders as you rise on your tiptoes to return it deeper. He doesn’t let you stall, he steps away. “I’ll be right here.” Javier juts his chin toward the ottoman, and he watches you disappear into the room.
Sitting down with a strain in his lower back from the drive and his body's reaction to the thought of the ride they have to take once this is all over. Javier leans his head back, his eyes facing the ceiling. Touched with a heavy weight and the lingering thought of maybe one day having one of these moments with his own mother, if she’s out there. He busies himself with an attempt of remembering her face, drawing her in white lights behind his closed eyes that he was too damn scared to open, scared to be present. Scared of not being strong enough for you. Afraid of opening his eyes and seeing a blackhole ready to swallow him whole, engulfing himself in his own grief that he’s shoved down trying to be a man for you.
He sees your face at first, angled cheeks he first sees you now, a longer face–lips full, a nose with a tiny slope and teeth always threatening to split your lips in a smile. He also sees what you looked like in 1980, rounder cheeks, the face of a shy girl. He remembers your cheeks always being pink. His chest constricts when he pictures that same young face full of tears at fault of his own fears. That's when he makes out his mothers face, eyebrows a light-light brown, so light they always seemed barely there. Her freckle below her eye, her eyes clad with glasses and quirk between her brow. Of disapproval for all things involving their life as a family.
Javier snaps his eyes open at the thought. Straightening up, attempting to now hear what was being said behind the door. His eyes adjust to the bright light of the hall, it really felt like a waiting room. Javier blinks away the floaters.
In front of him is a single picture hung on the wall.
It's an image of your father, he sees the resemblance immediately. But that isn't what catches his eye. Javier's heart drops nauseatingly fast at the sight of two young girls-twins, in the photograph. And in cursive in the far corner,
Best Dad Ever

He’s up and hugging you before you could take in that this is really happening. The hug is tight, it's unfamiliar, it's strangling and you attempt to hug back to make it feel loving but it just isn't there yet. You want to pinch yourself, you've dreamt up this moment. You hugged your own aching body to sleep countless nights wishing for a hug from your father and now that it’s here, you can't even register the difference between him and a stranger.
He holds your face for a moment with his eyes misty, your chin quivers then. He was a splitting image of your grandfather. Eyes a hazel, his hair shaggy and long. Like he doesn't belong in a home this large, you close your eyes for a moment. Overstimulated with the situation, your father cradles your face for the first time since you were a premature newborn. He even calls you beautiful a few times and you’ve never felt stronger for not melting into a puddle of tears. Perhaps you were just too happy.
It was the happiest moment.
You sit in front of him and he has a sheet in front of him. You couldn't be bothered talking about yourself again but you do anyway, he leaned in with every small fact. He beams with a laugh when you tell him that little Frankie was expecting a baby and wedding. He claims that these past years he wondered what you were doing with your life, once your eighteenth birthday approached he says he stayed up the entire night wondering what this next step would look like for you.
“It seems like you've done well for yourself–I'm sorry Andrea, I’m sorry I wasn't there.” You were the only person in tears in the room but you couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed. The tears were only joyful, those sorts came rarely for you. You allowed them to flow without shame.
It’s okay dad, it's okay. You whisper, “My mom–she says she left because you were–”
“An addict.” He cuts. “I was, I got clean the second she fled with you. I called my mom and she sent me to a rehabilitation facility in New York. It’s where I lived most of my life, where I built my business. Where I met my wife.” He smiles to himself and you smile too. What a privilege it is to be loved by someone else. “She isn't home today, told her we would be meeting today and she decided to not overwhelm you so she’s out. I hope you don’t mind.”
You reach out for the box of tissues at his desk, dabbing your eyes. “It's okay–I'm sorry that my mom did that– leaving without notice, it-it kills me when I think of it.” You wipe again as more tears fall, god why was it so difficult to talk when crying. You think of the day after your birth often, you think of your father asleep in a hospital chair, you think of him waking up in an empty room. Your heart chips away slowly but then you look at his face again and he looks just as confused.
He straightened up and his jaw clenched. You were to oblivious to notice the change in his demeanor.
“Andrea– I knew she was going to leave– I- I encouraged her to… I was too sick. I wasn't ready then– I waited six years until I had kids.”
You swear the feeling was akin to being cut by the sharpest blade, sliced slowly down your sternum and the weight of the world on your shoulders. There you are, in front of your father, bleeding out, being drained in front of him. Your head feels light as everything you thought you knew turns on its head. Your eyes fall to your knees, staring into the denim of your pants, trying to register if any of this is real.
What? You whisper.
“Oh Andrea–Melissa–your mother. She sat in that hospital bed and cried, she begged me to get clean for you, but she didn't know how all of that worked. I had to do it for myself, and I did. I asked her to leave. I wasn’t ready, sweetheart.”
The name stung, you sat there, you were an open wound in front of your father as he explains that he made the choice to reject you.
Your chin quivered in a new way, no longer happy. No longer tears between teeth, “I’m really confused.”
“I forgave myself for that decision in rehab. I found god and I absolve myself from that guilt through years of healing, Adalina and Adare’s birth helped me free myself from that decision. I knew you were taken care of I had to–”
“I-I wasn't taken care of. I wasn't loved. I was ignored–I-I spent the holidays alone. I was raised by a nanny–When-when I fell off my bike I relied on my brother's best friend to take care of me. I needed you but I was never angry at you for not looking because I thought you were left completely in the dark.” Each word came with a sob so deep, you weren't sure your body could handle a heartbreak like this. His lips thinned and his brows creased in sympathy that didn't feel genuine. You had sisters, sisters with names awfully close to your own. "Did-did you know where I was?"
"I had you address for several years, yes." Cooly he says it. “Andrea–I'm really upset to hear that. I had assumed you were okay, you never looked for me.”
You shook your head with closed eyes, tears staining your neck. “I shouldn't have to–I’m the child…” You whined, regressing to a little girl, you couldn't help it. This was the worst pain you've felt. “I needed you– I needed a dad.”
“I understand, I understand the importance of a father in a young woman's life–I've got two of my own–But I cannot be sorry for the decision I made twenty two years ago.” How could he be so cold, so analytical. How is it that he talks about the situation like he’s just an observer?
“Three, you have three daughters.” Your voice sobers, its anger this time. You were so upset that he couldn't see this the way you do. Your eyes burn into his and there isn't anything, there's nothing. You began to wonder how he could be the product of a woman like Lorena. “You had me on January 14th 1964, you watched my mom carry me for 7 months before she couldn’t– I’m your daughter too.” You spit without a shaking breath.
His face tightens and he nods, “Technically speaking yes-”
“Oh give me a fucking break!” You cuss, jumping to your feet and he jumps in his seat.
“Please do not cuss in my home.”
You were red hot, fuming as your eyes finally took in the catholic iconography throughout the office. And the many, many pictures of your sisters. Wiping your tears with your palms, fast like you want to hide from him that he even made you cry in the first place. “You are a pathetic person. I feel so ridiculous having wasted so many years wanting you. I’ll see my way out.” You turn and he’s following you, repeating your name but no apologies. You swing the door open and Javier is there at his feet already, with a tense face. You see it, he heard it all and he’s angry.
“Please Andrea, let's just pray together.”
You cackle and glance at your boyfriend. “Let's go Javi.” You storm past him, swinging the backdoor open.
The second the rolling front yard and southern sun hits your skin you begin to sob. Chest wracking yet silent as you walk away from your fathers home. As you walk away from someone else's father. You chest hiccuping as you blurily lead yourself down the path, Javier's steps quickening behind you. Your cheeks hot and stung with tears, head pounding you knew you looked like a swollen hot mess. You hug your own shaking body all the way to the car. Climbing in the passenger's seat with more tears.
You aren't sure if you could ever be okay.

Javier circles the car with his heart in his throat, hearing each word and feeling the cuts deep. He sits and thinks, she won't be able to handle this. He knows you, he knows you enough to love you. He knows you are strong, he also knows no child is strong enough to face rejection from a parent. So he stares at your father before you have walked out the home, he contemplates killing him there. He wants to hurt the man for making you ache so badly. Call him crazy or irrational, but he thought it for a split second. Thought of hurting him.
Javier decides taking care of you was far more important than his anger.
He walks behind you,
It felt like a huge joke, like a fuck you. The beautiful scenery of the estate, the birds chirping and the world still spinning, and you're there, hugging your own body while you silently weep ahead of him.
He doesn't start the car when he gets in. He stares ahead, sick to his stomach at the sound of your cries. His eyes glued to the steering wheel, his peripheral catches you shifting to lean your temple against the window. The car was hot, sitting out in this sun. Hot enough to burn you once your elbow touches a belt buckle but the heat felt trivial. Javier glances at the map, prepared to drive back into New Orleans and extend their weekend, take you away for more days. Allow you to be detached for some more time, this was far too much for you.
“I want to go home Javi.” You whisper between tears, “It was…dumb of me to look for a family out here.”
There it was again, your eagerness for a complete family. For someone to see you, understand your pain, he heard you beyond that door. He heard you talk about being left alone, celebrating holidays with only yourself. He heard you begging for sympathy from your own blood from your own family. He heard your voice so small when you begged him to see you as his own child, as his own family.
Javier panics, he’s so overcome with emotion he isn't sure he has the words to comfort you. He can't get out what he's tried to tell you all weekend. You will always have a family with him, you no longer have to search. But it doesn't come out from his mouth.
Instead, he reaches his hand over to you and between his thumb and his pointer he rubs the earring he gifted you. The earring, the reminder. Without words he tells you, I’ve got you. He watched you the past two days rub the thing as a nervous tick, he sees your brows furrow and your chin quiver once more before you cave and lean your head against his hand. Your cries regulate and calm with each pass of his thumb against the delicate little bee in your ear. Javier watches you with blurred eyes and he remembers meeting you for the first time. He remembers putting bandages on your knees and peeling oranges for you and diving into lakes and biking, and blushing and kissing and leaving. And And And,
“Andrea, I really, really love you.”
#javier peña#javier peña x ofc#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier peña smut#ao3#fanfic#javier peña narcos#javier pena x reader
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To My Taste
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Part 8: Hedonistic
Masterlist
⚠️Warnings⚠️ 18+ but there isn't really sex just heavy petting. Obsessive Behavior, gaslighting. Mentions of both Somnophilia and CNC kinda.
There was a prick in my arm that made my eyes pop open. Hannibal was trying to put an IV in. I moved my arm away from whatever it was in the IV bag, he was about to put in the IV. He looked surprised for a split second before smiling.
"There is my favorite patient." He said as he tried to continue to hook up the IV to the bag of liquid. I put my hand over the IV opening.
"What are you doing?" The words felt like mush in my mouth. I must have still been high from the codeine he gave me.
"You have been asleep for almost a day. I was going to give you fluids so you didn't get dehydrated. May I continue?" He asked as he looked down at my hand. I looked up at the bag of mystery liquid. What was I thinking? This is Hannibal, what would he possibly put in an IV that would hurt me. Giving him a sheepish grin I nod and move my hand.
"Where is Will?" I ask wincing as Hannibal plugs in the tubing.
"Working I'm afraid. We will just have to keep each other company." He jokes while taking off his gloves.
"I need to get to work. It's been days." I try to sit up but Hannibal stops me.
"Jack came by this morning, we told him you were still sleeping and were having a difficult time adjusting. He wants you to take a few more days." Hannibal says as he tucks the covers back around me.
"They are still looking for the man? It's wasting resources. Maybe we should just tell them the truth." The last part came out as a mumble. It was taking a lot of effort to choose the right words. I knew what I wanted to say, it was a matter of making my mouth say it. Hannibal shushes me and puts my hand back under the blanket.
"That would only cause the team more problems. Think how sad Beverly would be if you were found guilty of murder. You wouldn't be able to see Will or I in Jail. We'd all be in trouble." I could tell he was using simpler words than normally would. It did make sense though. I didn't want to go to jail.
"I feel bad." I say softly looking up at him. He checked the IV bag and moved my head to the side very gently.
"I know you do. Guilt is understandable. You have been through something traumatic but you did the right thing. A man like that shouldn't be around people." He says as he starts parting my hair like he was looking for something.
"What are you doing now?" I question keeping my head perfectly still for him.
"I am checking the stitches and bruises. You seem to be healing nicely. We will see how your pain is once the drugs wear off." His fingers delicately dance through my hair. I had no doubt this would hurt without the codeine but for now it felt like he was just playing with my hair. I grin and close my eyes enjoying the sensation.
He brushed my hair down flat and turned my head to the other side. His hands were really warm. I could feel myself start to slip back to sleep. I jerk my body to wake up. If I slept anymore I'd lose it. Too much sleep always puts me in a fog.
"Did something hurt?" He asked as he paused his gentle head massage.
"No, I don't want to go back to sleep." Opening my eyes I look out his window at the treeline. It was pouring outside. The rain tapped against the window. He chuckled softly as he smoothed my hair out again and pulled his hands away.
"I was thinking about last night. Did you enjoy the meat you ate?" He asked as he took out a small light and shined it in my eyes. Letting out a whine I squint and pull my hands to my face to block the light. He was checking to make sure my pupils dilated and I guess I passed the test because he put his light away quickly.
His question bounced around in my head. I had almost forgotten I had meat last night. Far more eventful things happened that night that had my attention.
"Yeah it was good. It was a little too bloody." I was doing my best to speak clearly to avoid the embarrassment of mumbling anymore. Hannibal chuckled again and nodded. He seemed pleased with my answer. His eyes wrinkled up a bit the way they do when he is cooking or looking at Will.
"If I made you some more would you try it again?"
"What If I don't like it? I don't want it to go to waste." I say as I look back over at the IV. I found myself trying to pick at the tape holding it in place.
"I will finish it if you don't. I would like for you to be able to enjoy what Will and I do." He said as he gingerly took my hand away from the tape and put it back under the blanket again. He tucked my upper body in a little more snuggly this time. "So can I get you to try some more?"
"Alright." I wasn't sure why it was so important to him. Maybe it was a cultural difference. I wouldn't want to be rude. He smiled at me. It reached his eyes yet again, making me smile back. He had such a sweet smile. When it reached his eyes it made me melt. I look away from him to avoid getting butterflies.
"I'm going to make you some food. If you need anything just call." He says as he leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. He lingered for a second. My face got warm and I closed my eyes so I could enjoy the feeling of his lips against my skin.
"Sounds good." I whisper as I turn my head away from him to look out the window. He left the room and kept the door wide open.
He had nearly imprisoned me in this blanket. There was hardly any room to move. It seemed the more I strained the tighter my wrappings got.
Giving myself a rest for a moment I look around his room for something that I could focus on to keep myself awake. The conversation I caught last night sprung to mind. Will was feeding his dogs something. He was taking a cut of something. I wished they had spoken more frankly. They could be so vague it drives me crazy.
Laying in this position all day was starting to make me sore. Which was a good sign because that meant the drugs were wearing off. I continued my fight with the blankets again but this time I made some headway. I was able to wiggle my arm free. It was all I needed to unwrap myself from this cotton trap.
Sitting up I inspect the IV bag holder. It didn't have wheels on the bottom like most. I didn't feel like I was all that dehydrated so I disconnected the tubing to the bag and used the bed to push myself to my feet. I was too chicken to try and take the IV out myself.
Walking wasn't as difficult as it initially seemed. Once I got my footing it was easy enough. Now out from under the blanket I realized how cold I was. In truth I wasn't even sure why I was looking for Hannibal, being alone just didn't feel right.
Finally making my way to the kitchen I found he wasn't here but all his cooking equipment was. Waiting for him there didn't occur to me. I started down another hall in search of my Doctor. He turned a corner holding a cut of meat wrapped in white paper.
"Now how did you get over here?" He grinned but he seemed a little vexed.
"I wanted to walk." I say as I lean against the wall taking a small break. He held out his arm for me to use to steady myself.
"Come along then, it would seem I need to tuck you in a little more tightly." We make it to the kitchen again and he lays the meat down on the counter before using his newly freed hand to lead me back to his room.
"Why do I have to be in here? I can walk fine." It sounded a bit more whiny than I intended it to. Hannibal let go of me suddenly and I stumbled before regaining my coordination. My knees wobbled like a spotted fawn. Standing was harder than walking somehow. The ground spun beneath me whenever I stood still.
"Yes you seem quite sturdy." He taunted, with a soft smile. He took my hand to help me back into bed. "You are shaking, it is dangerous to try and walk alone. You do seem to be getting more lucid. The fact you were able to untuck yourself is impressive in itself. Your fine motor skills are present seeing as you managed to unplug your IV. Be patient and the drugs should be out of your system soon enough, then you can wander all you want." He lightly scolded as he allowed me to sit up in bed.
"Oh Hannibal, you really know how to compliment a girl. Never had a man compliment my ability to untuck myself from his bed." He wasn't wrong though. I was feeling more alert and less sluggish. He started to hook the IV back in when I stopped him. "I don't feel dehydrated and I'm awake now so I can just drink something right?" I ask looking up at him.
"If you think you feel well enough I suppose it's not needed." He agreed. He gently peeled the tape from the crease of my elbow and expertly removed the IV. Without warning he leaned down and kissed the spot the needle had been. My eyes widened as I watched him.
It was a delicate but firm kiss. My stomach did flips as he stood up straight again. The smallest dot of blood sat on his bottom lip until he licked it away, as if he didn't even notice it. He placed his thumb over the needle spot. Reaching for his first aid kit on the table he pulls out a band-aid to cover the small wound. "There we go all better." He spoke but I wasn't really listening. My heart was still fluttering from his tender kiss.
"What was that for?" I was baffled by him yet again. My cheeks felt red hot as they blushed for him.
"It was an apology for the blemish and pain." He said as he moved the IV bag and holder away from the bed.
"Apology accepted. You do that for all your patients?" I ask with a smirk. Flirting with him seemed like a bad idea but I couldn't resist.
"Only for the ones who look so sweet when they blush." He spoke so matter of factly but still somehow sounded flirtatious.
"Oh you use that line on Will?" I couldn't let myself be the only one who was frazzled. I give him an almost smug grin as I look up at him. I wanted to see him squirm under my bluntness. His expression didn't change, he didn't seem shy about it in the slightest.
"No, I just propositioned him with sex. No line was required." He said with his own smirk now.
"What a lucky man." I remark
"Are you referring to Will or I?" He asked as he leaned against the bedside table and crossed his arms.
"Both." I say softly looking up at him. He let out a small chuckle in acceptance.
"Are you the hedonistic type Lydia?" The question took me by surprise.
"That's a word, hedonistic. I never understood if that word was supposed to be offensive. Nothing wrong with the pursuit of pleasure."
"If you think so, why haven't you answered my question?"
"Why did you ask the question?" We sat there for a moment just staring as if waiting for the other to break.
"It is bad manners to answer a question with a question of your own." His tone is different. It could have just as easily been interpreted as a warning of some kind.
"It's bad manners to tease your guests." I say with a playful grin. It seemed I had gotten some kind of rise out of him. He seemed to be affected by my words now.
"I'm not teasing you, not yet anyway." His lip curled into a slow grin as he looked down at me. The look in his eye wasn't too dissimilar to the look Will gets. It was dark but seemed more restrained.
Something about his expression was alarming. I wasn't sure what it was but looking into his eyes I felt like prey looking into a hungry predator's eyes.
He stood up straight and the look in his eyes changed along with his grin. "I'm going to prepare our meal. I'll be back soon. Don't leave the bed again please." He requests as he leaves the room. I was left wondering how much of what I felt was intentional on his part.
A boom of thunder broke my concentration as a storm brewed outside. Normally a storm wouldn't bother me but today it seemed to weigh on my mind more then it should. I jumped with every crack of thunder. The wind picked up quick and the trees swayed and bent in the storm.
Hannibal returned after a while with a tray full of food and drinks. He sat the tray down on the bedside table and pulled a chair near the bed before handing me my plate. It was some kind of thinly sliced meat arranged beautifully to look like a flower of some kind. His plate had an equally beautiful arrangement of meat that looked a bit more bloody than mine.
"I am testing out arrangements for a dinner party I plan to have soon. What do you think of the Dahlia?" He asked gesturing to the elaborate looking flower made of meat on my plate.
"It is certainly original, must have taken you a while. Why a Dahlia?" I ask as I gently feel one of its petals.
"Dahlias are a resilient flower but also fragile. They can bloom in intense heatwaves while all its garden mates wilt and crisp under a harsh sun, but they have very weak stems. They often collapse under the weight of their own buds and blossoms. I enjoy the duality and versatility of the flower, and they are beautiful." He perfects his own arrangement as he speaks. He seemed completely absorbed in the task. It was obvious he put so much thought into the arrangement.
"And here I was thinking you just liked old unsolved cases." I say with a grin. The faux flower seemed almost too pretty to ruin by cutting into it with silverware. Hannibal nodded and grinned at me.
"Well yes of course the murder comes to mind as well. Such a dark mind for a bright young woman." I wasn't sure if it was a compliment or an insult but either way I couldn't stop myself from blushing yet again. He took pity on me and didn't mention my red cheeks. "Well it's not just meant to be beautiful, please try it." He sounded almost excited for me to try. I don't keep him in suspense for long. I used the fork to scoop up some petals and put them into my mouth. They were so soft and smooth they almost felt like a real plant but the taste was unmistakably meat.
"It's good, the texture is great. I think the meat taste pretty good as well. I like it." I say as I take another bite. His face lights up as he nods.
"Good! I was worried the texture was too thin. I want the guest to enjoy the delicateness of the petals without taking from the meat's natural texture."
"As normal you have nailed it Hannibal this is really great." He seemed proud. I always liked seeing someone indulge in something they love. It's the main reason I went fishing with Will.
We enjoyed both our arrangements in comfortable silence. Once we both finished Hannibal collected the plates and placed them on the tray.
The storm showed no sign of slowing. I was a bit worried about Will making it back safely. My attention was pulled by Hannibal who cleared his throat.
"May I confess something to you?" I look over at him. I was almost worried what might come out if this man's mouth next.
"Of course what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, I just want to be transparent with you. I have a guilty conscience. I let the air out of your tire the first night you stayed. I snuck out while the food was cooking and unscrewed your air cap." He said he felt guilty but he didn't really look it. He sat straight in his chair and looked me in the eye he spoke so confidently.
"Um alright why? Did you do that?" I was sure he had his reasons but it did tick me off a little.
"I was worried about you. Your attacker was still out there and I didn't want you to go home to an empty house."
"Oh Hannibal you could have just came out and said that. I would have stayed." It was a sweet thought. It felt strange to have someone go behind my back to try and protect me, almost like receiving a backhanded compliment.
"No you wouldn't have, you would have fought tooth and nail to not feel like a burden so I had to give you no option. And my actions were not entirely altruistic, it was my attempt to help Will. He had mentioned his interest in you. I thought if you two spent more time together outside of work it might help his chances. Unfortunately I believe his nerves got the better of him and he overdid it with the alcohol." Hannibal stopped speaking for a second and looked out the window before speaking again. "And I wasn't dreading the idea of spending more time with you."
"Well um you really thought long and hard about it, it would seem. Just don't do that again. If you wanted to spend time together you could have just asked." I lean forward a bit to bring my face into his line of sight. It seemed to work and he looked back at me. He grinned and nodded as he stood up to take the tray.
"I'm going to clean this up. Would you like to come with me?" He asked as he held out his hand to help me out of bed. I jumped at the opportunity to get out of this room.
Taking his hand I got up and used his shoulder to steady myself. The walk was easy enough. Eating some food had really helped in my recovery from this hellish drug he gave me.
Once in the kitchen I sat down on one of the stools as he started to clear the tray. I was about to ask him if he wanted help when the front door was opened quickly and closed. Will fought to fold up a broken umbrella as he stepped into the foyer and spotted us in the kitchen.
"Hell of a storm. You got candles Hannibal?" He asked as he took off his rain soaked coat and hat.
"I have many." Hannibal answers from the sink with a grin.
"Good, good to see you up and around." Will says as he puts a hand on my face and leans down to kiss me. I was so surprised by the kiss I left my eyes open. He pulled away and chuckled softly.
"Yeah hey there." I say taken off guard. The kiss wasn't unwelcomed, it just wasn't expected. Hannibal didn't even seem to notice the random kiss.
"Did you miss me?" Will asked me with a grin as he stole another peck of a kiss from my lips.
"Of course I did but Hannibal kept me company. He made us meat flowers." As I speak Will started undoing his sleeve buttons. He laughed once I finished talking and looked at Hannibal like I was crazy.
"Yeah meat flower? That sounds interesting." He sounded like he was talking to a child.
"No she isn't mistaken, I made a meat arrangement that resembled a Dahlia." Hannibal corrects him. Will looks surprised but nods.
"Sorry I thought you were still loopy. You were feeling pretty good this morning and were saying some funny stuff." Will says as he leans against the bar. I laugh a little, feeling embarrassed.
"Oh no what did I say?"
"It's alright Hannibal warned me you might be out of it. You asked if I wanted to mess around." He said with a playful grin.
"Oh god! sorry about that." I say sheepish. I glanced up at Hannibal who didn't seem to have any reaction to what was said.
"Don't apologize, it was fun." Will says as he puts his hand on my thigh. I didn't catch it at first. I put my face in my hands and laughed until it hit me.
"What was fun?" I asked, feeling a pit grow in my stomach. He looked like a deer in headlights as he realized something.
"Well when I-." He paused and looked embarrassed now. "When I fingered you." He whispered the last part. I pulled away from him, surprised.
"You what?!." I pushed his hand off my thigh and looked at him disgusted.
"I'm sorry I didn't think you'd mind. You asked me to. You don't remember it? I figured you were into it." Will did seem genuinely sorry not for doing it but for the misunderstanding perhaps. I looked up at Hannibal for back up. He had poured himself some scotch and was sipping it as he listened to us. He was completely unfazed.
His reaction made me feel almost silly. Like I was overreacting. Will put his arm around me and pulled me closer.
"You knew I was out of it." I said looking up at him. His brow furrowed for a second before grinning.
"I didn't know you wouldn't remember. If I would have known that I wouldn't have done it. I'm so sorry, forgive me?" He leaned down and gave me another kiss. The situation felt off but he probably did think I was into it. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about his fingers inside of me before. He was hard to be mad at. He was holding my face so tenderly and his lips were so soft against mine. That's when I remembered Hannibal was still in the room. I pulled away from the kiss and looked over at him. He was still just looking at us. His expression was unreadable. I turned my attention back to Will.
"Just don't do it again." I say softly. I felt violated but something deep in me almost liked the idea of it in a sick twisted way it felt romantic. I wasn't proud of this feeling but I also couldn't stop it.
"I promise." He said before trying to kiss me again. I turn my head not wanting to be kissed like that again in front of Hannibal. I was feeling extra shy and sensitive after this situation came to light. Hannibal seemed to understand without being told and he turned around to organize some pots and pans. Will didn't take the hint. He used his hand to turn my face back to him and kissed me a bit more forcefully. I couldn't help but kiss him back.
"I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to join me?" He asked, finally breaking the kiss. I shook my head no.
"No, my head is starting to hurt. Maybe next time." I say with a small grin. He seemed okay with me not coming along.
"Hannibal?" He asked, looking over at him. Hannibal looked up at the clock and turned around.
"I'd be delighted. Will you be okay alone?" He asked as he looked at me. I was surprised by how casual he was about joining Will's shower.
"Oh um yeah totally. I'm just going to watch some TV or something." I stuttered a bit looking at the two men. The openness about sex would take some getting used to.
Hannibal had made his way to Will and kissed him sweetly on the cheek before the two men walked off together. I felt jealous but I wasn't sure who I was jealous of.
Shaking the thought from my head I got up and carefully walked to the living room. It was a minor miracle Hannibal even had a TV he didn't seem like the type to watch television. I flipped through the channels before landing on the news. It was a special segment dedicated to missing persons.
A few unfamiliar faces passed by as the news anchor spoke about them until something caught my eye in one of the photos. It was a mugshot of a man accompanied by pictures of unique features he had. On his calf was a tattoo of a tiger. The exact tattoo I remembered seeing on the dismembered leg in Hannibal's basement. My blood ran cold as I listened to the news anchor speak. The man was a career criminal. He went missing a few weeks ago from his home.
I thought back to the supposed hallucination I had about Hannibal's basement. I know it was the same tattoo. It was really poorly done, probably got it in prison or done by a friend with a tattoo gun. They showed me the pig's body; it definitely wasn't human. Did Hannibal move the body and replace it? My stomach churned at the thought. He was so willing to hide my attacker's body. Maybe it wasn't his first time.
I was going to be smart about it this time. I shouldn't jump to conclusions. I'll ask Will to come with me to the basement when Hannibal isn't around. We can look together. I won't even have to tell Will what I'm looking for. This way Hannibal wouldn't be able to lie his way out of it.
The shower turned off and I could faintly hear the men talking in Hannibal's room. I changed the channel and tried to look natural. They came out to the living room shortly after.
The night continued on. I had to wait till Hannibal was asleep or gone before I could tell Will anything. Going through the evening was exhausting. Hannibal was so perceptive. He could tell something was wrong. I had to keep reassuring him it was just my head. He was eager to offer me all sorts of methods of pain management. I was growing more and more nervous that I was tipping him off to something. It was nearly 11 when Hannibal got a call. It was a patient of his. They had tried to hurt themselves and were begging to see him at the hospital.
"Do you want us to come along?" Will offered as Hannibal pulled on his coat and got a new umbrella from the holder by the door. I stayed calm not wanting to seem too eager to get Will alone.
"No, I will be alright. I don't want you two out in this storm. Thank you though, make sure she gets some rest and I'll be home soon." Hannibal said as he kissed Will and I on our cheeks. He seemed more affectionate. That was good. He must not have suspected anything.
I watched Hannibal go to his car and pull out of his driveway. Will seemed excited for him to leave for a different reason. He came up behind me and started kissing on my neck while he wrapped his arms around me.
"I'm so sorry about this morning." He said in between slow sweet kisses. I was trying to think of what I could tell him to get him in that basement that didn't make me sound crazy.
"It's okay Will. It was a misunderstanding, It happens." I say trying to ease his mind.
"You just looked so beautiful. You fell asleep in my arms. I think I found a new turn on." He whispered in my ear. I was hardly listening to him. I was too busy trying to think up a lie.
"Drugging a girl?" I tease him a bit. He laughed as he pressed my hips against his. I could feel his member at attention against me.
"You sleeping, you looked so peaceful." He said as he tried to lift my sleep shirt. I keep my arms down by my side stopping him. What he was staying didn't make sense. I didn't think I was asleep when he touched me this morning.
"I thought I was awake." I say as I pull my hips away from him ever so slightly.
"You were awake in the beginning. Then you laid your head on my shoulder and fell asleep. It was so intimate, you trusted me so much." He started to rub his hand against the front of my underwear under my sleep shirt. I was half disgusted and half turned on. I wanted to hit him for not stopping once I fell asleep but at the same time I wanted him to fuck me right there in the foyer. I had to focus, our psychiatrist could be a murdering cannibal.
"I need your help." I say as I pull his hand away from my crotch. He wasn't going to let me move from his grasp though.
"Anything, just say it." He hummed as he bit at my neck.
"I think I lost my earring in Hannibal's basement when we were down there. Can you help me look for it?" He stopped all of his canoodling as soon as I mentioned the basement.
"You are thinking about your earrings right now?" He laughed as he turned me around to face him.
"It's the most expensive pair I have." I say as I give him an apologetic kiss for ruining the mood. It was a long shot. Will had a great memory and I worried he'd remember I wasn't wearing earrings that night. His mind seemed more preoccupied with a more pressing matter than my earring.
He leaned down and kissed me back as he tried to pick me up. I had to pull my body from his to get him to regain focus. "Will, please! I love those earrings." He wiped his mouth as he looked down at the ground. He seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts.
"Alright stay here." He said as he went to head towards the basement.
"I'll come along, the more eyes the better. It's super small. You might miss it." I say as I hurry after him. I lose my footing and stumble behind him. He turned around to try and catch me. "I'm fine, I'm fine, let's just look for the earring." I say smiling at him. I was doing my best to not seem desperate.
"There is no way I'm taking you down there. There is a table saw and a concrete floor. It's a death trap for you in this state. I won't be long, just stay put." He tried to walk me to the sofa but I refused to sit.
"Just let me help!" I shout as I push his hands off me. He seemed to have caught on.
"Lydia we have been through this, there is nothing down there. There wasn't the other night and there isn't tonight. Hannibal isn't chopping people up in his basement." Will was speaking softly and gently. Like he was talking to a wounded animal.
"No Will look, look at this." I say as I grab my phone from the coffee table. I pull up the missing persons report and show him the tattoo. "It's the tattoo I saw. Maybe I'm mistaken but I don't think I am so let's go down there and check it out please!" I beg as he takes my phone to get a better look.
"Is this even a tiger? Looks more like an alpaca." He says under his breath. He closed my phone and looked down at me. He was thinking about something. He had started to sweat when I showed him the picture. He either thought I was going crazy or he was starting to believe me.
"Just one look." I say as I lean against him. "Please."
"I'll look. You can't even walk in a straight line without help. Let me go down and check it all out." He says with a small smile. It wasn't ideal but at least he seemed to believe me or at least believe that I thought this was real.
"Okay yeah sure. Just look in the freezers. Look for hairs, human hair." I say as I sit down on the sofa. He nods and puts my phone in his pocket. I thought it was odd but maybe he wanted it for a light.
"Stay here. Don't move please." He said as he kissed me on the forehead. I agreed as he walked down the hall. It wasn't very long at all. Not even two minutes before I couldn't take it anymore. I walked after him, he must have been in the basement because the door was cracked open. I snuck over and peeked through the crack. I couldn't see anything other than the stairs.
Will was talking down there. I couldn't really hear him so I quietly opened the door and squeezed through. Scooting down slowly on my butt I got near the bottom of the steps and could finally hear him.
"Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!" He whispered. I have never heard that tone from Will. He sounded absolutely crazed so mad he could hardly form a coherent sentence.
Was he talking to himself? I stood up and peeked around the corner so I could try and see what was happening. Will's back was to me. He was moving something into a closet, it looked like a hospital bed. On the bed looked to be a person, or at least I think it was a person. They were covered in a white sheet and were hooked up to a machine on wheels of some kind. I held my breath not wanting him to know I was lurking.
"Help." Someone gasped out from the sheet. They hardly sounded human.
"Shut up!" Will barked in a hushed tone. I yelped in surprise, making Will freeze. He knew I was here.
#hannibal#will graham#hannigram#nbc hannibal#nbc hannigram#yandere hannibal#dark fanfiction#oc stuff#yandere will graham
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Get to Know Me Tag Game
I was tagged so I'm doing it. I'm malleable that way, you know?
Thank you @bitchwitch1981 for the tag 😎
1. Were you named after anyone?
I was named after a voodoo priestess from the movie "Angel Heart." The character Lisa Bonet played. My mom is a special lady. 🤣
2. When was the last time you cried?
Sometime in the last week of 2023 when I wrote that post about my mental health journey. It was...good to write out, but a lot.
3. Do you have kids?
I have none of the tiny humans.
4. What sports do you play/ have you played?
I was allergic to them, they made me itch. I read and played video games instead like the recluse I am.
5. Do you use sarcasm?
I may, at times. Usually people don't take me seriously when I'm being direct, and they think I'm being sarcastic.
6. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Eyes, nose and stance. Tells me if I need to keep myself between them and the exit. 👀
7. What's your eye colour?
Light brown, similar to honey. 🍯
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings. It's sappy, but I like them. I will mock both horror and happy ending equally.
9. Any talents?
I can have my fingers inside you, while asking you follow-up questions, also a knack for calming sick elderly people and finding that tricky spot where the catheter goes. 🤣🤣 (I described my job in the worst way possible)
I can sing a little. I'm funny. I teach fairly well.
10. Where were you born?
United States - Maryland
11. What are your hobbies?
Listening & singing to music, writing and reading fics, day dreaming about Pedro Pascal & Oscar Isaac, watching TV, going to the movies, burning candles, reading manga, playing video games, painting my nails.
12. Do you have any pets?
The state of my houseplants have indicated to me that no matter how much I wish it, that alone will not sustain life for a dog or a cat. 😞
13. How tall are you?
5 foot 3 inches (I'm short and round, like a rolo or peppermint patty.)
14. Favourite subject in high school?
Science (Anatomy and Physiology)
15. Dream job?
Professional fanfic writer who gets paid in the number of WIPs I have. (So I would be making millions by never finishing any work.)
NP tags: @maggiemayhemnj @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @megamindsecretlair @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @avastrasposts @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @rhoorl @laurfilijames @alltheglitterandtheroar @avastrasposts @atinylittlepain @beefrobeefcal
#Get to know Nerdie#She's a strange one#Maybe has a strange way of life?#that's the best humor we'r getting out of her#she describes things improperly#no pet would be safe except maybe a rock
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Stardew Valley Bachelor(ettes) + Hozier & Taylor Swift
My personal interpretation of stardew marriage candidates and the hozier and Taylor swift songs that fit them w/ lyrics. Disclaimer: created in a fit of insomnia.
Bachelorettes
Abigail: Long Live TV, take me to church
“Long live all the walls we crashed through I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you”
“If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. To keep the Goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice, ‘Drain the whole sea Get something shiny Something meaty for the main course That's a fine looking high horse What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful’, That looks tasty That looks plenty This is hungry work”
Emily: bejeweled, someone new
“Best believe I'm still bejeweled. When I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer”
“There's an art to life's distractions to somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through. Some like to imagine the dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do. Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way. And so I fall in love just a little, oh a little bit every day with someone new”
Haley: Wildest Dreams, Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene
“Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe— Red lips and rosy cheeks. Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams”
“Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet. Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile, it's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet. With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean, she's the angel of small death and the codeine scene. With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean, she's the angel of small death and the codeine scene”
Leah: Willow, In a Week
“I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night—rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife. And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face. Lost in your current like a priceless wine”
“We lay here for years or for hours, thrown here or found to freeze or to thaw. So long, we'd become the flowers. Two corpses we were, Two corpses I saw”
Maru: Mastermind, sunlight
“Once upon a time, the planets and the fates And all the stars aligned You and I ended up in the same room At the same time And the touch of a hand lit the fuse Of a chain reaction of countermoves To assess the equation of you Checkmate, I couldn't lose”
“I would shun the light, share in evening's cool and quiet Who would trade that hum of night? For sunlight, sunlight, sunlight But whose heart would not take flight? Betray the moon as acolyte On first and fierce affirming sight Of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight”
Penny: Mine TV, I, Carrion
“Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time, You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing that's ever been mine. Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing that's ever been mine”
“You have me floatin' like a feather on the sea while you're as heavy as the world that you hold your hands beneath. Once I had wondered what was holdin' up the ground, but I can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down. Leave it now, I am sky-bound If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me”
Bachelors
Alex: So High School, Wasteland, Baby!
“Truth, dare, spin bottles You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full throttle Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto It's true, swear, scout's honor You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her Brand new, full throttle You already know, babe”
“All the fear and the fire Of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl Happens great, happens sweet Happily, I'm unfazed here, too Wasteland, baby I'm in love I'm in love with you”
Elliot: False God, Francesca
“I know heaven's a thing I go there when you touch me Honey hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness Got the wine for you”
“Though I know my heart would break I'll tell them put me back in it Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah If I could hold you for a minute. Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah I would still be surprised I could find you, darling In any life If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah I would not change it each time Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I”
Harvey: Safe & Sound, Too Sweet
“Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound”
“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three, you’re too sweet for me”
Sam: Electric Touch, Jackie and Wilson
“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life And I want you now, wanna need you forever In the heat of your electric touch”
“She's gonna save me, call me "baby" Run her hands through my hair She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily Better yet, she wouldn't care We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives Ride 'round picking up clues We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson Raise 'em on rhythm and blues”
Sebastian: Snow on the Beach, Better Love
“Now it's like snow at the beach Weird but fuckin' beautiful Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful You wanting me tonight feels impossible But it's comin' down, no sound, it's all around Like snow on the beach”
“And I've never loved a darker blue than the darkness I have known in you, own from you You, whose heart would sing of anarchy You would laugh at meanings, guarantees, so beautifully When our truth is burned from history By those who figured justice in fond memory, witness me Like fire weeping from a cedar tree Know that my love would burn with me We'll live eternally”
Shane: Gold Rush, first time
“'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush”
“And the first time that you kissed me I drank dry the River Lethe The Liffey would have been softer on my stomach all the same But you spoke some quick new music That went so far to soothe this soul As it was and ever shall be Unearth without a name Some part of me must have died The first time that you called me baby And some part of me came alive The first time that you called me baby”
#stardew valley#shane stardew valley#stardew valley haley#stardew valley alex#stardew valley abigail#stardew sebastian#stardew valley sebastian#stardew valley harvey#stardew valley elliot#stardew valley sam#stardew valley maru#stardew valley penny#stardew valley emily
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📻 adrian <3
mm, i think “vanilla curls” by teddy hyde is a really underrated song on his playlist. there are a lot of fantastic brinndrian songs on both his and brinne’s playlist, but this one encapsulates a lot of their dynamic that goes beyond their hopeless mentally ill qualities. it’s a little like angel of small death and the codeine scene, but more of a dreamy kind of sexy.


this start of the first verse has some really powerful inner monologue, and i think captures specifically adrian’s reverence for brinne. his position as the high priest and brinne’s position as the monarch lends itself inherently to some worship of her, but obviously in their relationship it goes far past a religious or political kind of admiration. in particular I like the blend in these lyrics between the mental and physical attraction. he’s constantly battling with the moral transgression of his attraction to her, but can’t help feel overwhelmed by it when he sees her.

love all of the rhyme here. it’s about the sex and also the constant doubt in their relationship. write that down

thissss is the center of it. “she caught me by the ear and left me lying here writhing in fear” is a pretty accurate description of their relationship from adolescence until the present. during their teenage years, brinne was always pushing their boundaries further and becoming more intense while adrian just sort of had to deal with it. he was willing to clean up her messes, but the fact that she made so many in the first place was frightening to him, especially when it pertained to the secrecy of their relationship. now, adrian has to cope with the fact that brinne had such a huge effect on him as a person and he hardly knows how to exist without her now that she is withdrawn and ignoring their history. adrian is so deeply and madly in love with her and there is nothing he can do about it. literally nothing.
“instant kindred inhibition / a kiss then distance / it isn’t over, let’s call it / an infinite intermission” RRRAHHH it has brinndrian written all over it. this is exactly what their relationship is now. neither of them know how to handle their feelings and illicit relationship with the pressures of governing the country and approval from others mattering more than ever. they can’t quite abandon each other, but they’re both too afraid to really devolve back to sex and romance again. it’s an infinite intermission (which is only occasionally interrupted by desperate sex in the chapel).
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I remember having pain issues in junior high. I started getting migraines when I was 14 (so bad that my doctor prescribed 90mg of codeine for a 95lb me, which is a lot). Have always been weather sensitive in that my body hurt when the weather was changing, especially my head. Got all the kinds of headaches. Started getting 'migraines from my hips up' when the weather changed, pressure sensitivity in several points, difficulty concentrating not related to likely undiagnosed ADHD and/or anxiety disorders and/or autism. Get sick and take months to recover any energy at all. All the while, going to doctors and begging for a reason for these symptoms. Hand over my history of symptoms to a rheumatologist before they see me. "You have a text book case of fibromyalgia." At this point, I've been looking for a diagnosis for 15 years and I can't work full time any more....cue COVID-19 a few months later and my research on fibromyalgia shows it might have an autoimmune component and my now diagnosed anxiety disorders get worse making it difficult to leave my safe home for anything.
I'll be on medication for the rest of my life, but I intend to have the rest of my life.
Some rando: You should think about stopping your prescription
Me: My pills make me not want to die tho
They: You shouldn’t want to die, that’s not normal
Me: Yeah that’s why I’m taking my pills
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am i a little late ? yeah . but wrapped !! i go over it below :3
top artist being hozier makes a lot of sense , he was last year as well ( though last year we listened to him almost twice as much ) .
same goes for florence ; she's my girlfriend and i's go-to artist for in the car ( alongside hozier ) , which is a lot of my spotify usage .
have a nice life is literally just because of a quick one before the eternal worm devours connecticut . that is literally the only song by them i've ever heard .
fall out boy doesn't make any sense , but this is probably the fifth year in a row they've been on my wrapped . i think i've literally only listened to folie a deux this year .. ? maybe a few others came up on my liked playlist ( i have their discography from mania and back liked . 2018/19/20 were big fob years for us ) . i guess i'm just loyal idk
peter gundry is on our wrapped because of the vampire masquerade and a couple other songs of his that we've listened to a lot for reasons we will explain when going over our top songs .
top song : a quick one before the eternal worm devours connecticut . song after ? a quick one before the eternal worm devours appalachia ( different artist , btw ) . after that ? the vampire masquerade . do you wanna know why ?
reading playlist . we read over 1 million words this year ( we read at abt 750wpm , so well over 1300min/22hrs of reading ) , and almost all of those words were read while listening to our reading playlist . the playlist started out with just a quick one … connecticut , soon after we added a quick one … appalachia . those were the only two songs on there for almost half of the year . around may , we added the vampire masquerade . about a month ago , we caved and added a few more songs by peter gundry and a few classical pieces .
but for most of the year ? those two / three songs .
as of very recently , we have access to youtube premium ( hooray for middle class girlfriend who's parents got the family plan ) , and will keep our reading music strictly on there as to not " pollute " our wrapped . but regardless , it was super neat to see how our reading habits impacted this :DD
now on to tear you apart . i don't know what to say for this one . i'm some sort of faggot and also mentally ill . shocked that kiss wasn't on there tbh ( it made #7 ) , though ig we discovered that song later in the year .
angel of small death and the codeine scene is mostly coincidence , i think . it's only on our hozier discography playlist , so i guess it was favored by the shuffle gods . it's interesting that a song from the new album isn't in its place , since we looped that for a while when it came out .
as for the amount of minutes , i think it was on par with previous years , maybe a bit lower . as we exist in our Depression Era we listen to less music , oddly enough , and most of this summer ( i know it's almost winter but im not in school so it's summer . right ? i get to go back to high school , right ??? ) has been That . this year was great up until june 🫡 ( grad month )
i was slightly surprised not to find more goth shit on my wrapped , because this year was when we really started diving into the subculture , but i guess the social factors behind hozier and florence ( girlfriend ) and the reading playlist trump it in a way that makes sense . riboflavin and billie was a vampire made #8 and #9 , so that's a win .
if you read this i owe you one (1) kiss on the lips . or a hug or smth idk . if you listen to the songs i linked i'll probably have to marry you .
here's my full top 100 , if anyone's curious :3


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Discovering that not all allergic reactions entail hives and anaphylaxis and that sometimes they can just be minor reactions that make you vaguely ill and uncomfortable, or even cause completely unexpected symptoms like diarrhea and vomiting and flu-like symptoms was a wild ride. I'm mildly allergic to way more stuff than I thought I was, I thought I didn't have any allergies and was just generally sickly all the time.
So turns out, if you're allergic to tree nuts and you eat them, getting a whole lot of saliva that feels thick to swallow, flu-like body aches and goosebumps, stomach cramps, blocked or runny nose and diarrhea is also an allergic reaction. Saliva is not a viscous substance, it should not be difficult to swallow even if there's a LOT of it. Your throat is swollen babe.
MOST fruits and vegetables are not spicy, only peppers, some alums and actual spices, and mints can cause a tingly or burning sensation. If a fruit tingles you're allergic. If a leafy green tingles you are allergic. If a starch or grain tingles you are allergic.
I just discovered I'm allergic to rosehip, because it's in a new tea I got myself which tastes absolutely horrendous to me, and my arms and throat are itchy as fuck and my mouth feels like it's full of cotton (tongue swollen). I took like 3 small sips and I'm not like actually sick, just mildly irritated, so I'm not panicking, but I now have to get rid of an entire box of tea. And check everything for tree nuts AND rosehip. How wonderful.
Medication allergies are especially weird like they do not happen how you'd expect. I'm allergic to codeine, found out because I had my wisdom teeth removed surgically and the anti inflammation meds have a high dose of codeine, I took the highest recommended dose daily for a week because I had anesthesia brain and didn't see the up to in front of the "two tablets three times a day". My dad hilariously did that too once, took 4 antihistamines after getting stung by a bee and got violently ill, didn't see the up to in front of four tablets daily.
Anyway I took way too much codeine and then for the next month I could not breathe well at all, felt dizzy constantly and was super sensitive to everything. Turns out some medications like to stick around in your body for a while, and when you're allergic to it the allergic reaction sticks too. Highly unpleasant, I have to tell doctors no codeine every time I have a procedure that requires anti inflammation drugs.
The symptoms for the newly discovered rosehip allergy are getting worse actually I am going to go take an antihistamine I'll continue this post later.
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I don’t really care if venting on social media is cringey I’ll do whatever I want these past 3 months have been so difficult I just became sober in the starting of December getting off weed because it was giving me really bad paranoia before that I had gotten sober from codeine and more stronger drugs like cocaine in November I’ve never dealt with my mental problems before I was introduced to drugs in 6th grade I’ve been off and on it I’ve never really thought about anything serious I don’t remember anything actually from when I was an addict but being really hyper and happy having a child like mind now I feel so disgust in my body I don’t feel like myself I don’t even feel like I know me for 3 months I haven’t clean my room I’ve tried to but i just end up leaving it a mess never finish it I got on birth control gained sm weight I’ve started emotionally eating I’ve been thinking about going back to my ed but I know if I do my teeth will fall out I will probably only get worse health problems I don’t have any friends I removed a lot of them while I was maniac a lot of them I didn’t even like the type of people they were they were bitter I just wanted friends I always tried to understand them,respect them they acted like my friends but everytime I would share my problems for once they would ignore I had a friend who just started talking about her bf that she cheats on all the time while I was talking about how my dads mental health is so bad his life is at threat who constantly got mad at me for being insecure for my trauma I stopped opening up after I just started being quiet I don’t wanna tell my friends my mental health problems anymore because I know they won’t listen I rather just block them because I don’t feel like they like me or even there for me I feel like I’m just the ugly annoying friend I just want to have a friend who loves me I wish I had someone to talk to I’ve been waiting months to get a therapist I dropped out of high school because stress was so bad I got so paranoid I started thinking everyone was recording me and making fun of me I even thought one of my ex friends were stealing my packages I started to think my own bf was stalking me even other people if someone even looked at me I assumed they were stalking me planning on bringing harm to me I’ve lost so much trust for people I feel so lonely I feel like no one wants to comfort me I try to be positive but I wonder if my depression will ever go away I’ve been going through it since was a child a lot of trauma has been brought up I feel like a child I just wanna start crying and hitting myself push everyone away but I’ll only be sad idk what to do I went to the psych ward to get mental help I was there for one day only they told me they were getting me meds and a psychiatrist but i just wanna feel normal again I haven’t even looked at my face or body in months I’m so disgusted by myself
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Running Like Water

The Holiday Special and Homecoming
pairing: Javier Peña x OFC
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: 5.2k
a/n:
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. Happy Holidays to all. Here's my little gift of a few short stories about the holidays in RLW. And yes... finally I have wrapped up the Homecoming story.
I listened to an awful lot of christmas songs while writing this, if anyone is interested I could attach a playlist (The Christmas Song by Nat "King" Cole is a must listen for this).
This is for you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine merry christmas beloved!

Thanksgiving 1977
By the time Andrea begins zipping up her sweater while walking home from school she realizes that perhaps her oh so thrilling friendship with Javier Peña was only a summer thing. On the last sticky day of august he ruffled her hair and joked about her sun freckles. Sitting at the lake’s dock, shoulder to shoulder a thirteen year old Andrea shares an orange with fifteen year old Javier. He tells her, her nose looked like a chocolate chip cookie, god forbid Javier even slightly throws a compliment her way. Andrea balls her hands in fists with a grin when she says thank you, her brother scoffing from the other edge of their lake dock, “He wasn’t complimenting you, you idiot.” He calls with a snort, Genie pinches his arm and he yelps. Javi looks over his tan shoulder at his best friend and laughs along. Her face falls when Javier doesn’t correct Frankie but instead pushes off away from her and runs to the other end and pushes her brother into the murky water with a voice crack laced scream. Andrea and Genie flinch from the splash. She flinches from the weather dropping below sixty, eyes narrow as she walk uphill after being dismissed for thanksgiving break.
That was the last time she saw Javi. He stopped coming to the house to pick her and Frankie up. Two weeks into seventh grade she noticed how strange it was to not be with him. Everyone in the halls at school were strangers, shit, they hadn't even known she spent the summer crushing on Laredo’s cutest freshman. Andrea tries to practice self control by not bugging Frankie about where the hell his so-called best friend was. That was until of course October when Frankie snatched a piece of gum from Andrea’s bookbag.
“Where are you going?” She asks, her head lifting from her damn geometry work. Frankie pops the gum in his mouth and shrugs.
“Homecoming game with Javi.” He says it like its nothing. Her eyes go all needy and in the most little sister voice she begs to come with. Frankie screws up his face, “No. Absolutely not.”
Andrea slams her pencil down feeling betrayed by her brother who just two months ago let her tag along, every time!
“Have you been hanging out, like just you guys?” She asks, sounding more whiny than she wanted.
“Yeah, we hang out every day.” He bends down and tightens the laces to his chucks, his Laredo high school pull string hoodie flopping over his head in the same movement. She remembers her heart sinking at that moment, How dare they leave her out! She stands from the chair, it screeches loud.
“What!”
Frankie laughs and heads out the door with a slam.
So Andrea learns that, yeah, it's a summer thing.
She rewires her brain to believe it stays that way just because she was the only one still in middle school. But she still finds it beyond strange that she doesn't bump into him, not even once–not until thanksgiving. The Diaz household only celebrated christian holidays and occasionally birthdays, so thanksgiving was just another day. Andrea rolls over in bed after a good late afternoon nap, her eyes falling to her year wide calendar. 49 days until she’s fourteen. She prays she grows some boobs, blurry eyes staring down at the mosquito bites under the t-shirt.
A knock at her room door has her sat up straight, patting down the wrinkles in her shirt. “Yes!” She calls, eyes wide and cheeks flush.
“It’s Javi.”
Andrea nearly shrieks at the sound of his voice from behind the door and from the position she had just been in. Up on her feet she hurries to the mirror, “Give me a moment I’m-um-I’m naked.” She blurts, her cheeks heating at her brain's stupid stupid stupid self. Patting her hair in place and slipping on socks, her freckles are long gone. No longer is there a trace of summer on her, what if she was just prettier under the sun.
He chuckles behind the door, “Uh-um okay.”
“Come in.” She shouts instead of opening the door for him. She wonders if maybe she looks more grown, her eyes dance to the mirror and polka dot fluffy shorts that stopped mid thigh, nope definitely not. He opens the door and the sight is absolutely delightful. Javier clad in a flannel and jeans, his brows furrowing at her. Lips quirking into a smile and at that moment Andrea realizes this is Javier’s first time in her room. Her cheeks set a blaze, his eyes scan the place, he smiles lazily at a picture of the summer crew taped onto her vanity mirror. “Sorry, I was just changing after a nap.” Half true. Her eyes bounce anywhere but his own, god Andrea could be so obvious sometimes. Have I no shame?
He frowns, lifting a tin foil plate up, suddenly the smell of Peña fresh pork and rice, and tamales. Andrea’s stomach grumbles cartoonishly and Javier splits into a chuckle. Andrea is utterly gobsmacked at how badly she likes the boy. Is this what love feels like? Like the sound of their makes her ache, was she too young to feel that hard? She giggles anyway, “Sorry I’m so hungry, let's go to the kitchen.” She tilts her head toward the door and he nods, leading himself out. Shamelessly staring at the nape of his neck as she trails him down the stairs. She has a dangerous thought of her lips pressing right there, that thought freaks her out and she feels her stomach flip.
“Why are you alone?” Javier asks as he sets down the plate on the kitchen island. Andrea slept off the annoyance she developed from her mother and brothers yearly antics. Each thanksgiving, the two of them, just the two of them, go out to eat. They call it their mother son day of the year, when Andrea was young she was left with her nanny who took it upon herself to take little Andrea to a movie each thanksgiving. But Andrea was no longer little and the tradition continued, so the past 3 thanksgivings had been spent alone. It was routine to her, she wasn't sure if she was ready to understand her mothers ways just yet.
This Thanksgiving fell on Andrea’s fathers birthday, it's all she knew about him. His birthday and name. Lucas, November 24th. One complicated parent a time, she didn’t dwell this thanksgiving but she’d be a liar if she said she hadn't felt like she was on the verge of tears the entire day.
Andrea peels open the wet aluminum, oh lordy I am thankful, thank you Chucho… for this food, Andrea looks up at Javier who had been staring at her with such contentment, and thank you for making the adonis that watches me now. Grabbing a fork Andrea answers, “My mom does something with Frankie every thanksgiving so I’m left here! God this looks amazing.” She drags her fork at the slab of pork, and it pulls so beautifully she could cry. Javier pulls the plate away from her. “Hey!”
“Is this every thanksgiving?” He asks, shielding the plate with his arm to get her to answer.
She didn't care, “Yes, now move.” Andrea pinches his wrist and he slowly pulls his hand back to his side. Shoveling the pernil in her mouth with an excited mumble. Javi stays silent for her first few bites, just watching Andrea stuff herself. She was so hungry she couldn't bother looking at him. But then he sits next to her and gets a fork for himself and begins eating off the plate with her.
Cheeks bulging with arroz con gandules, her eyes brighten and she smiles. “Happy Thanksgiving.” She says with a full mouth, to anyone it would be a gross act but Javier had thought it was the most endearing sight ever.
“Happy thanksgiving Andrea.”
They eat together in silence.

Javier leaves with his heart beating fast in his chest, his stomach turning in the worst way. He looks at his father in the driver's seat, Chucho rolls down the window. “What took you so long!?”
Javier shook his head, not wanting to risk shouting what he discovered at the lawn of Andrea’s home. He shoots his head over his shoulder to take one more look at the house that contained just Andrea inside.
Running a hand through his hair, Javier opens his fathers truck door and settles in. That feeling, that hole in his chest still in full effect. “Andrea spends every thanksgiving alone.” He says it, his chest rises and falls. Andrea spends every thanksgiving alone.

Thanksgiving 1979
Andrea spends it alone again. Javier sat with his uncle, and dad in Houston, feeling awful homesick. Javier filled out the scholarship to the High School of Law and Justice in March and got free tuition for the upcoming year in late August, he had no time to really tell Andrea. Chucho traveled north for the holidays. Cooking for his helpless little brother who had Javier living off cafeteria lunch and ramen. The house smelled delightful and it truly felt like the holidays, even if he wasn't really home. During grace, with his hand resting on his fathers shoulder, in a warm room filled with home cooked food and love, he realizes she’s likely napping again. Probably sleeping to fizzle out hunger and loneliness.
Javi struggles to enjoy his food.

Homecoming 1979
Homecoming sure felt like a holiday in Laredo, at least within the halls of the school. The week had been full of underage drinking each night, pranks, and defacing the rival schools flag. Andrea couldn’t be bothered with the festivities, she just cared that senior Brian Flores who asked her to the dance. Now she could use this as an excuse to be pretty and maybe, maybe get her first kiss. She attended the game, and met Lorraine face to face for the very first time. Andrea attempted to bite back the jealousy buttering her tongue, and she surely took it out on Javier when he asked to talk after the game. Asking her all these questions that made her feel, for just a second, that he wants to be near her as much as she wants to be near him.
Then he called her kid, and Andrea felt winded at the blow.
“Next time I’ll think twice before I invite my best friend's kid sister to hang out. I apologize for trying to be polite and include you, god knows you used to whine about being left out.”
Javi had distracted her from the handsome boy clad in shoulder pads who asked if she was okay, she couldn't even bask in the feeling because immediately Javier switched to protector mode. With a furrowed brow his eyes darted from Andrea to the grown man attempting to court her, and oh it settled something deep in his stomach he was unprepared to talk about.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What do you mean?”
After a mini tangent and a few curses about him being far too old for her, Javi in a fit of protectiveness asked Andrea just to go with him. His brain completely abandons the thought of his unofficial girlfriend Lorraine. When he watches Andrea’s eyes twinkle for one second, he is reminded of the girl he had spent the last few weeks witj and the feelings he truly felt for the Lor. He wanted to be Lorraine’s boyfriend, he was tired of sneaking around–homecoming would have been his perfect opportunity to just go steady with the girl he had a crush on.
“Please stop acting like you care, I don't feel left out anymore. I have my own friends and life now. You guys only had me around because my mom made you, cus’ i couldn't make friends but obviously-Obviously I’m doing better now, so just please leave me alone” With that all thoughts of anyone but Andrea clears, only panic fills his chest when he watches someone who had never been upset with him, someone who had always been eager to spend time with, reminds him that things have changed and she becomes someone who wants to be left alone.
Andrea heads home and sleeps well, she glances over at the dress she picked out and strangely the twisting jealousy and betrayal she felt from Javier fizzled at the thought of being appreciated by someone who actually likes her. Not so bad for a freshman, she thinks. She dozes off and dreams of Javier. She dreams she accepts his invite–even if it was offered in a white hot moment. In her brain she wears something entirely different and dances with him in their school gym. It’s decorated much more beautifully than she anticipated, but her brain paints it perfect just for them. Javier doesn’t make a move on her the entire night of the dance, it wasn’t his style. When the two decide it’s time to go, he kisses her gently and slowly against the brick walls of the gymnasium. Heart in her throat, she grips to the lapels of his blazer, pointing her foot in a beautiful disney first kiss. What a lovely dream it was, maybe that’s why she feels well rested the next day.
She gets ready with an empty house, Frankie spent the night at Genie’s, again, a photo of Sharon Tate taped to her mirror. Eyes squinted as she messes up with powdered eyeliner for the… eighth time. The guitar riff in Marmalade’s I See the Rain bouncing off the walls of her bedroom. She pats down the wrinkles on the pale yellow dress. Her chest still not quite filling the thing but the built in lace shawl like jacket covers her modestly. Melissa had found too many of the short dresses too grown for a freshman. Andrea’s eyes flick up to her own, then down to her lips. She liked those, pinching her lips together her eyes narrow attempting to give her reflection a sexy pre kiss smolder. Her nose turns up in a cringe. Stomach flipping, will Brian kiss with tongue? He’s seventeen, god, he will for sure. Her eyes survey the room, she is alone… her mom got out of work at 9 pm. Frankie had no intention of coming home until tomorrow.
Screw it.
Andrea bunches her hand, her thumb lapping her pointer. She brings her hand to her lips and attempts to emulate what she thinks a kiss should look like. Her eyes close for just a moment when she feels a rhythm that feels right, hmm this doesn't seem too bad. Hopefully his breath doesn't smell like punch–
“Andrea-what the fu-”
She squeals at the top of her lungs when her eyes fall on a hurried suit clad Javier. Her wet hand is covered in Avon’s ripe cherry lipstick. “Ah! Oh my god.” It's her worst nightmare, her none kissed hand wiping the other while Javier stares with confusion and a hint of amusement. “What-how-why–how did you get in here?!” She yells, jumping to her feet. Javier tugs at his bow tie and stares at her hand for a moment, eliciting an ahem from her throat. His cheeks hint a blush.
“Door was unlocked.” He stated flatly. Andrea blinks a few times, her lashes still wet with mascara, was he really here or had she kept dreaming.
He was just as nervous, as he got ready in the morning he wavered his options. He goes to homecoming and tells her while she’s there with her prick of a date, he tells her everything. He shook his head at that, he knew that could be a mess, it could create a scene. Javier crossed that off the list, he thought of just calling, he let that idea go too. As he crouched down to tighten his dress shoes his eyes caught a glimpse of the dusty space below his dresser, a white border poking out into view.
Javier leaned forward and pulled the thing out from under his dresser. There Andrea is, her hair long and braided, her classic teal bike to her left. To her right is Javi with his arm slung over her shoulders. With a sting in his eye and heart beating in his throat, Javier ran all the way to her, to Andrea.
So without warning to Lorraine, Javier lays it all out.
“You can't go to homecoming.”
Andrea rolls her eyes, “Javi I’m tired of this weird protector complex you’ve developed, but I’m fifteen now I-”
“I won't let you go because that douchebag is being paid to take you, being paid double if he kisses you and triple if he fucks you.” He says it so rushed, just to get her to zip it. He saves Andrea in a sense, she was ready to spill some cliche lines that will have her cringing in t-minus six hours. The urgency was useful only in that facet, because then it hist Andrea all at once. Her eyes fall to the floor, heart dancing in her chest. How could I have been so blind. She knew of the senior bucket list, she knew, yet–
“Oh.” Her eyes screw shut for a moment, really hoping this was a dream. My god was she humiliated. She bought a dress, taped magazine clippings, painted her nails, kissed her hand and pushed Javier away for nothing. For someone to plan to use her for a checkmark on a list, she felt like a total idiot. Javi must think I look so stupid, Andrea thinks. Here in the middle of her room practicing kissing in an over priced dress. And despite her efforts to prove to Javi that she is in fact mature and strong and no longer in need of acceptance, her chin begins to quiver in the same way it did when she was just a kid. Her eyes blurry, she doesn’t even realize Javier is walking over to her with a soft pleading voice. Makeup ruined already, his hand grips her shoulder and instinctively she reaches out to grip his wrist. He’s frantically trying to get her stop crying but she just felt so embarrassed, crying is the only thing distracting from that pain in her chest. He’s whispering promises,
Andrea please stop crying
I’ll stay here or-or we can go together
We can stay in—watch something
We can egg his car—please stop crying.
Shaking her head, her fingers dig into his wrist and he takes it as a sign to gather her up. Pulling Andrea into his chest, she knows her mascara tears must be staining his tux yet he couldn’t seem to care. The ache in his own chest settling the second he flattens a hand on the back of her head. Cheek resting on the top of her head. Andrea leans her entire body weight into the embrace, absolutely exhausted of being the joke, of being a pawn. Tired of being behind and naive. Javier tucks her head below his chin, resting on the top of her head. And oh boy is he in trouble because he hadn't thought of Lorraine, not even once.
Despite the circles she’s talked herself into about her need to be self reliant—god did it feel good to just be hugged.
With a squeeze to Andrea’s hip she pulls back, her eyes in all their raccoon glory, somehow she was still so beautiful. "Let’s go downstairs and watch something. Then we can flip through the yellow pages and sign the bastard up for the most incessant and embarrassing subscription with his home phone. How does Cat Scratch sex line sound?” Javier suggests. Just there, she feels it again, Am I too young to feel this much?
Through tears and smudged makeup, her lips quirk at its corners.
“Okay.”

Christmas 1979
Christmas at the Diaz house wasn’t actually so bad. On the eve of christmas Melissa sets out all of the presents she’s bought her kids, then in the corner of her room lays a second pile of gifts for the people of Laredo that she’s made her family. Then she dresses her children, yes, even at their old age, in outfits she bought. The three take a drive to their church’s party and it goes the same way each year. The Smithfield’s lead a prayer, they play their mix of american christmas classics and spanish ones, then they regret serving alcohol at their christmas party.
Two days before the party half of their christmas lights fall and in a fit of anger Melissa calls over Chucho to bring his latter and fix the damn thing. It must be genetic because when the Diaz women call, the Peña men come running. To Andrea’s surprise Javier shows up with his father. The group of friends watch the disaster that is Melissa Diaz with Holiday anxiety.
Melissa stands at the foot of a ladder while Chucho puts up her lights. “A la derecha!” She yells from below, Frankie, Javier and Andrea sit on the lawn watching in amusement. It was chillier, a low fifty, it became Andreas' excuse to wear her lacrosse sweatshirt. Her brother and Javier joke about something that happened in school, something she didn’t witness. So she picks at the grass surrounding her and looks off at the two geezers arguing with each other in Spanish. Nat King Cole and Celia Cruz blasting from inside their house, windows open and in the December sunset their christmas tree twinkles beyond the window.
Andrea decides maybe she likes Christmas with her family, with this family.
She decides to take that statement back when her mother forces her to run the boutique from opening till closing on Christmas eve. Andrea stands behind the cash register wearing a headband with twirly attachments that jingled with each slight movement. If she hears happy holidays one more time she’ll kill Santa Claus herself. So it’s safe to say that when she locks up shop with a daily sale of five thousand dollars, she couldn’t be bothered with seeing half of Laredo in the church basement.
Somehow Andrea finds herself in a stockings and a puffy green dress. She is half asleep by the time she spots the black leather couch at the farthest corner of the large basement. The basement of Los Tres Reyes church was the home of many parties. Many that could be considered non-fitting for a church but to most it was simply just a venue. Considering Lorraine’s father was the english mass pastor and his daughter was the most admired girl at the school, Mr. Smithfield held the Laredo Christmas party-invite only. Contrary to most parties at Los Tres Reyes, the Smithfield Christmas extravaganza (nice dresses and day drinking) was exclusive in Laredo terms.
Lorraine was suited in the prettiest outfit in the room. Too fashionable for this town, plaid flared pants and a cashmere turtleneck. Andrea wants to groan at the silly dress her mom forced her into… and she was so tired. The party began to fill with the most prestigious faces of town, mostly store owners and Lorraine’s friends. Flashes fake smiles at each wave and struggling to stay awake the second she sits down. The familiar crunch of the couch with the sound of the tool of her skirt created a new strange ear splitting sound that has Andrea cringing. Legs crossed she wondered how many feet of tinsel they used for the ceiling.
Fleshy nylon rubbing together with each leg-crossed readjustment. God she wished she had a magazine or something to not look so socially awkward in a setting like this. Deep inside Andrea was praying for Monica or Liandra to show up and save the day. She knew Javier was on his way, she knew she couldn’t bear the sight of the couple, especially how romantic it is to spend Christmas with your girlfriend’s family. Frankie was talking off Genie’s dad’s ear while nursing a beer.
With the Ronetts playing on speaker and the bustling chatter, Andrea finds it awfully easy to drift off. Head falling back against the rest of the sofa.
“My god she’s really sleeping.” Melissa whispers to Chucho about nearly four hours into the party. Eleven pm, nearly Christmas day. “Señor dame fuerza…” Her head falls into her hands while Chucho watches Andreas' fully laid out body in amusement. Her flats fully kicked off and her cheek squished to the leather.
The Peñas arrive quite late to the party. Lorraine dragged Javier to the church bathroom to scold him for embarrassing her. He kissed her hoping it’ll soften her up but she slapped his arm instead. “Don’t be mad please.” He pleads as she opens the restroom door. Lorraine looks over her shoulder with a frown.
With a snapping attitude and sarcasm, “Nice sweater.”
Javier looks down at the thing, his face softening at the sight of his own sweater that his uncle knitted himself. It’s a thick gray cable knit sweater. For a moment Javier wonders why he lets these things slide from Lorraine, just a few weeks before he nearly broke it off after her intrusive suggestion on how to get over his mothers absence.
Javi decides he’ll just drink tonight.
With his hands shoved in his nice jeans, the pants Chucho bought two years ago for him to be forced into every holiday. His keys in his back pocket jangling as he walks down the stairs to a slowly dying party as the night closes. The lights around twinkling and the smell of clove and cinnamon filling his nose. He passes two girls in Lorraine’s friend group, Hilda and Diana. “Do you think she’s drunk?”
“I don’t know, but it’s tragic.” Hilda giggles, sipping her beer. Both their eyes planted on Andrea, in all her Christmas tree glory. Surrounded by her large green dress, socked feet curled and the most peaceful face he’s ever seen. His brows knit together, it was unlike her to fall asleep in a place like this. He shoots a glare over at the two girls and walks straight past them, straight to her. He grabs a cracker crown from one of the tables. Ignoring Lorraine’s call as he makes his way next to Andrea.
For a moment he feels watched, a bit insecure as he surveys the room as people pretend to not stare at the two. He frowns before wrapping his hand around her ankle and shaking her awake. She stirs slightly but just furthers herself into comfortability. He drops his head in an endearing smile. “Andrea.” He calls to her and she jolts at the sound of his voice.
Her smooth nylon clad feet brushing over his lap, causing a flip in his stomach. Something stranger happens in his christmas jeans. “Oh!” She chirped, wiping her mouth clean of drool. “Javi!”
“Andrea.” He laughs moving her small feet from his lap. Leaning forward and placing the gold crown on her disheveled hair. She giggles slightly, and blinks her eyes into full awareness.
“Did I really fall asleep? What time is it?” She flattens her shimmery skirt. He just knows Melissa picked out the dress. He remembers the second summer they spent together, when her style changed completely. He knew she got her mother to back off on the kids catalogs, it seemed she still held higher ground when it came to christmas attire. Despite the forest pooling her body, to him she might have been the prettiest girl in the room, he should ask Santa Claus for a smack upside his head because the selfish thought came quickly and stuck like glue. Her shimmering eyes glance at the clock, fifteen to twelve. “Jesus!” She slaps her hand over her mouth at the decision to call the man out on his name, on his birthday and in a church. “I slept for so long.”
Javier chuckles a hearty laugh, “Yeah, decided to save you some embarrassment, you got quite comfortable.” His eyes fall to her feet. She burns mistletoe bow red and shoves them back into her flats. Still sitting up straight tenser than ever, and it aches his chest. He had her over just a week before, they joked around together in his house over dinner–he invited her to New Years at the bar. Two months before that the two sat awfully close on her couch watching Star Wars: A New Hope and signing up her one time homecoming date to awfully embarrassing subscriptions, using different personas and voices on the phone. Yet here, under everyone's surveillance she sat uptight and all frowning like she was afraid of being under the gaze of others. That drove him a bit crazy, she was his best friend too, hadn't she known?
Silence falls between them for a moment as he nurses his beer and she looks off, her mind running wild.
“You treat me differently when it’s not summer.” He blurts, bringing his drink to his lips. He knows why, he knows deep inside. Their summers together were organic, devoid of outside influences. She could just exist as Andrea, his Andrea. In summer she could just fall asleep on a couch and not have to worry about judging eyes. She could crush on Javier without guilt and restraint. He could call her pretty and not feel like the entire world is watching, prepared to scrutinize him. It was warm, it was easy to be close to one another, easy to ignore what others felt about them. Summers were just for them. It stirred something devastating in the cavity of his chest at the sight of her in a sweaty dress, with her hair done up and perfect posture. It wasn't her, it wasn't like her to be so afraid of him.
Her lips quirk in a polite fake smile, as her eyes survey the room. She’s extremely aware of the eyes on the two of them. Javier’s jaw clenched at the sight of Andrea of all people being fake to him. She clears her throat like he asked her a scandalous question. Then she turns to him all at once and he swears under her makeup he sees a hint of the freckles that deepen under the Texas sun, and her features fall all sincere, like he’s the only person in the room.
And she whispers, “Well maybe I don’t know how to be your friend in the winter.” Her eyes drop and her forehead forms that tiny crease of worry between painted brows. Javier’s stomach pits and maybe the holidays made him feel sentimental, maybe he’s afraid that being in the same school will somehow create a wedge in something he cherishes so deeply, maybe he feels like strangely time is running out. Perhaps he regrets meeting Lorraine at this time. It’s something about being surrounded by love, warmth and home cooked meals. Something about the sounds of chimes, organs and jingle bells in the music filling the air. Something about spending Christmas eve next to Andrea Diaz, something about not being able to kiss her under the mistletoe. Maybe because it actually snowed in Texas this Christmas, small flurries that didn’t stick–but snow nonetheless. He’s never had the urge to before but her, in front of him, at this time, with those eyes–he wonders what he’s doing wrong.
With his heart in his throat he can only muster out one thing.
“Merry Christmas.”

Christmas 1980-85
Houston isn't home. The holidays become a brain splitting headache he ignores for years to come. He's no longer seventeen. He had one holiday with her, and it wasn’t really with her, yet he can't imagine having one without her.
What a scary feeling.
#javier peña#javier peña x ofc#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier peña smut#ao3#fanfic#javier peña narcos#javier pena x reader
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Geoff Rickly describing his experience producing My Chemical Romance’s debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, on Sappenin’ Podcast with Sean Smith, October 4, 2019. (Transcript under cut)
“I’ll tell you what, I feel so lucky to be a part of what they had... Sure, I helped them find themselves a little bit and I helped them get their name out there initially, but I don't think there was any stopping what that band was gonna do. If I hadn't produced it, somebody would have, and they would have gotten out there.”
Sean Smith: Frank Iero. Morgan Richards: Frank Eye-air-o. Geoff Rickly: There you go, I think that sounds right, that's right. SS: Yeah, you mentioned Tucker's out with him now, and of course you produced and put out the first My Chem record. GR: That's right. SS: That kind of makes you the godfather, I'd say, of… how do you feel about the term 'emo'? GR: Love it. SS: No, do you though? GR: I used to hate it… SS: Yeah, I used to hate it, I used to think it was a massively derogatory term. MR: Yeah, we were talking about this earlier and I think now that word, it's being celebrated a lot more in recent years, really. SS: It's kind of like everything comes around, in a fashion. GR: That was the last new thing, you know what I'm saying? After that everything's about, like, going back to the Velvet Underground, going back to Nirvana… it's like we were the kind of like the last thing that was like, "Let's try something else!" And then everyone was like, "Let's not try anything else!" [Laughter] MR: We shouldn't have done that! Too many of them! GR: 90's gave us nu metal, then emo, let's just cut all our losses while we're ahead now! SS: That makes you… yeah, you brought the world My Chem. GR: Yeah. Well, it's crazy, cause I'm gonna be riding on Frank's bus, and it's almost like when I was making that record, cause I didn't have a license and Frank was driving me to the studio, and that's kinda how he ended up in the band. It was like, every morning I'd talk to him about the record - he was friends with those guys - and I'd be like, "I think they need another guitar player… Ray is tracking two tracks of guitar on a lot of these songs, he's not gonna be able to play one track on them. Plus, Gerard's doing backup vocals, nobody's there to sing backup vocals." I was like, "You sing, and you play guitar, you're cool, you're their friend… I feel like you should join the band." But it's like, he's gonna be giving me a ride again, you know what I mean? It's sort of like full circle. Frank's giving me a ride. MR: Well, technically he owes you 20% of everything… GR: Oh yeah, I'm gonna go back and collect. SS: Oh yeah… give him another two years, send him and invoice… 20% of everything, Frank! [Laughter] GR: I'll tell you what… I'll tell you what, I feel so lucky to be a part of what they had because I think, you know, a lot of people say, "Oh, you did such a great thing." And like, sure, I helped them find themselves a little bit and I helped them get their name out there initially, but I don't think there was any stopping what that band was gonna do. If I hadn't produced it somebody would have, and they would have gotten out there. I remember partway through the making of that record… well, it was an interesting… so Gerard had - one of his teeth was messed up, so he was in a lot of pain, so the doctor gave him some, like, codeine or something. But when he took the codeine for the pain, he didn't sing with the same venom, you know, he didn't sing like this aggressive… so we took away his pain pills, and then I took them while I was producing the record. So I remember I was like lying on the floor, just like, oh this song is really good, and then I was thinking about it, and I just heard it. I, like, really heard it. I stepped away from my responsibilities, cause I was floating on a cloud, and I was like, actually, this band's going to be huge. And I remember going outside for a cigarette with Mikey and being like, "Mikey, your band's going to be gigantic." He was like, "I mean not as big as Thursday, but do you think it's gonna be…" and I was like, "you're gonna be wayyy bigger than Thursday!" He's like, "Really?" I was like, "You're gonna be bigger" - and this, at the time, was about as big as you could imagine - "you're gonna be bigger than Good Charlotte, Mikey.” [Laughter] SS: Yeah, you're gonna be equal to, or as big as, Good Charlotte. GR: Yeah, that's right. And they were like no way is that possible and man, they really, like, showed the world another tier of how big you can be. And that was a crazy thing. SS: You're literally gonna have the lifestyles of the rich and famous, that's what you could have said to him. GR: I'm gonna be opening for you two nights at Wembley, you're gonna have security with you because if you go out on the street, people run after you like The Beatles. That was insane. On high street every shop had a Black Parade outfit in the window because that's how kids wanted, like… it's crazy. SS: Literally, like… it's absolutely bonkers.
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Just a quick check-in to say that I’m on a little mom’s break right now (thank GOODNESS for engaged partners who are willing to handle children while a spouse takes a breather!). I needed this after the events of earlier this autumn, when my partner had COVID and I had to solo mom for two weeks. It was rough.
I’m now sitting in a hotel bed, I ordered a crapload of delivery, I have a nice chilled bottle of alcohol in the mini-fridge, and I’m about to roll on some dramas/doramas. Besides enjoying the post-COVID recovery, I have to admit that I definitely have a Cherry Magic movie hangover. I’ve been reading a lot of good analysis on the movie on Twittterrrrr (are we not supposed to use that site anymore?! FUCK BILLIONAIRES, JESUS!), which I’ll reflect on over the weekend, particularly about how Adachi’s growth matched Kurosawa breaking down his walls of perfection, and how he projected his own internal expectations of perfection on the relationship. Lots of good stuff to dive into that I definitely want to ruminate on. But yeah -- the high of being able to see the movie, process it, think about it -- I am definitely still feeling the aftereffects of watching something so great (imho). I love, love, love that feeling of watching something great and having it linger for days, but I feel exhausted, too.
But anyway, when I checked in last night, I promptly kicked my own ass by ordering mediocre food, wah, and then watching two episodes of Super Rich, which is REMARKABLY bad, and I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself! I am sure that us drama folk have done this -- where we are committed to finishing a drama, no matter how bad it is. Super Rich is so bad! I don’t know what crimes Akaso and Machida committed to have been cast in such a badly written show! (And no wonder that there’s very little on Tumblr or elsewhere written about it.)
I’ll write more about it when I’m done with it, but there’s no way this show deserves its own review. It’s like an American soap opera on cough syrup with codeine. It makes up for its own badness with these RIDICULOUS time jumps that remove any potential for demonstrating growth in characters, and then has previously loving characters turn into utter villains without ANY explanation whatsoever. And stories of revenge in this show are utterly insensible. I’ll explain more, but honestly, it’s going into the “please don’t ever watch this, ever” pile on my drama list.
Anyway -- I am off to watch Silent, and then I’ll finish Super Rich, and if I’m still awake, maybe I’ll finish another rewatching of the CM movie. I wish Big Dragon had another episode while I’m still here in the hotel, but alas. While Mangkorn and Yai are dumb, the storyline is not dumb, per se -- the storyline is written well enough to host these two dummies entertainingly. Nothing I’ve watched recently is as dumb as Super Rich, which is such a shame, and really, after having watched the CM movie, it is SUCH a waste of Akaso and Machida’s talents, but more thoughts on that soon. GAAAAAHHHHHH!
#free me from the hell that is bad television#this is why i barely watch american shows#because so much is implausible#one more episode of super rich and then i'm DONE#but i'll watch silent first to cleanse my palate from last night
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Lean, Xanax and depression / Part 1.
It goes by many names: dirty sprite, purple drank, syzzurp, lean… Since the 90’s, lean (a mix of promethazine, codeine -cough syrup- and Sprite) has been a very common drug among rappers. Glorified by rappers like Lil Wayne, Juicy J, and Mac Miller, this drug is still very popular despite having caused the deaths of many famous artists, like Pimp C (2007), A$AP Yams (2015), Lil Peep (2017), and Mac Miller (2018).
We may understand the use of that drug as a stronger way to escape reality than weed. The codeine present in the cough syrup has a strong effect on your mind and your body, as it is indeed an opioid.
That syzzurp creates a real addiction. ScHoolboy Q acknowledged it and talked about the effect of that drug on him -and like Lil Wayne, he said that when you stop drinking it you will experience a horrible stomach pain. Lil Wayne also stated that because he was proud of everything he created while being on lean, he feels that he has succeeded and therefore he doesn’t want to stop.
The problem with the romanticizing of drugs (any kind of course) is that it makes it sound cool and it entourages listeners to try them, maybe as an experiment at first, but an experiment that can become an addiction and leave lasting effects on your brain and body, and can sometimes even lead to death. We all know how rap music has become popular and how more and more young people are listening to it - a young audience may even be more easily influenced by what the artists say in their songs.
The Future released a full album named after lean, DS2 (Dirty Sprite 2), 2015- in which he praises the effect of lean.
A$AP Rocky’s Purple Swag, 2011, a tribute for purple drank but also purple haze, as the chorus insists ‘everything is purple’.
Lean goes hand in hand with a cool, smooth, soft, relaxed image of the rapper -you don’t deal lean.
The thing with lean is that it’s legal (at least used to be, but you can still find it on the ‘underground market’), you can buy cough syrup and add some pills to it… And that will brings you your high!
I think the problem isn’t only that one can be influenced by the cool lyrics of a song about drugs, but what is linked to it is also the persona of the artist. As some people in our class have been stressing, artists should use their image to influence and raise awareness in people’s mind. Is lean associated to a particular rap genre? Actually no, or not really. One can find some recurrences of cloud rap or trap. If acid may have its particular rap genre (acid rap or psychedelic rap), I think that the purple drank isn't a style, a fashion (like cocaine could also be), it isn't linked to a specific set of kind of music or look but to a mind set, a fragility of the mind, and maybe a desire to escape reality -but isn't it what drugs are for?
But if lean has been on the charts since the 90’s, Xanax is climbing its way among the new popular drugs.
Xanax: another ‘legal’ drug, usually prescribed by your doctor if you have anxiety or other mental illnesses. But Xanax acts like a kind of metaphorical opioid -a ‘heart pain killer’.
What does these two drugs have in common?
-They’re legal -at least not as demonized as cocaine, heroine, crack, or some other drugs have been. (Weed will be one of my other post ;))
-They can ease your inner mental pain and anxieties.
-They somehow both embody the deep problem rooted in our society. When mental issues are viewed like a weakness and not like a serious problem that may find a cure with psychiatric monitoring.
Somehow it isn’t surprising for rappers -usually seen as powerful badass figures- to prefer to get high with opioids than talk to someone about their feelings. Somehow they have a mask to keep even if they probably undergo a lot of pressure from the music industry.
But there are also many rappers who advocate against the use of lean and xanax, because of their own experience and the impact these drugs had on them. From Chance The Rapper, to Ty Dolla $ign and Isaiah Rasahd. For more details about, I invite you to read this article.
In order to bring this post to an end and introduce my next post, I want to do a brief presentation on Henry AZ (a Juicy J’s progeny/protégé) who isn’t really famous, but deserves to be in my opinion. Since his beginnings he’s dealt with the themes of depression, anxiety, loneliness. I know he isn’t the first one, but there is this breadcrumb trail in all his songs, that raises awareness and invites his listeners to fight against it, to wake up and take back their destiny into their own hands. In the first song of his latest album Asking For a Friend, Out By Nine, he stresses how people takes drugs to feel better but that isn’t the solution.
To be honest, his music plunges me into a very deep and nostalgic mood…
In a following post I’ll study another song of the same album Headphones, whose music video came out about a year before the release of the album.

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I have to rant for a second, cw ableism, cw Covid
So I had this asshole reply to a comment I made, they said: "Omicron is just a cold".
First. No, it's not. And I pulled out some stats for them that took me all of five seconds to google. But that's not what I want to talk about here.
It's about the sentiment "just a cold". I get that for the majority of people, a cold isn't bad. And that's good. But to treat it like that is true for all people, now that's just ableist.
I've recently been diagnosed with asthma, and it explains a lot, especially why coughs stay so long after a cold. Once, it stayed so long that I had to take codein. Which I'm allergic to, turns out. Cool.
I also had a friend you had asthma, among other disabilities. They caught a cold, the common cold, not influenza, this was also about 2018. After a couple days they developed pneumonia, and then fell into a coma, nearly died, and stayed comatose for 3 months. From the actual common cold.
And after they woke up, nothing was as it was before. Their muscles severely atrophied, their organs were damaged. They couldn't live alone anymore and need near constant care.
From the common cold.
My last partner, also asthmatic, caught the flu once. But they decided to work while sick. High fever and all. Because work >>>> all. Because economy. Because below minimum wage job that would've fired them for staying home.
They collapsed, got hospitalized. They now have permanent heart damage. From the seasonal flu.
So whenever I hear people say shit like, "It's fine, it's just the flu! It's just (like) a cold!" All I hear is: I hate disabled people and I don't care if they suffer and die.
#ableism#covid 19#corona#''but we never cared about the common cold'' maybe we should have#like#people in asian countries have been wearing masks for the common cold for decades#my doctor's office had started supplying masks and asked sick people to wear them *years* before 2020#jan 2020 i decided to do it whenever i was sick#didn't have to wait long#got a mean strep throat and wore a mask#also wore it while shopping#nobody even gave a shit#anyway#even the common cold can kill you#never mind the flu#so don't be a dick to people who worry about their health and safety#and of those they love#furthermore#you never know whether you have an undiagnosed issue that could make you susceptible#rant
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